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Toro used the brief truce to catalogue his resources. He wore a short sword, with which he was moderately capable, but his real weaponry was all concealed. While the knives were his tool of preference, he had others, including a couple of rare items he'd been saving for a suitable eventuality. He'd have traded them for a flask of water. The room was hot and airless, his throat was bone dry, and these trials had been known to drag on for hours.

Ondrakja chose her approach and her moment with care. A Vraszenian-style sash belt and shoulder-buttoned blouse like the girl’s, though less tattered—but not too fine, either. Finery in Lacewater usually meant an Upper Bank cuff come to play games among the river rats, or a madam. And though a few touches of makeup could shift her appearance more toward either Vraszenian or Liganti, she chose to leave her mixed ancestry on display. Under the grime, the girl had more than a hint of Liganti in her features; she might respond better to someone who looked like her.

Ari Suonpää is a self-taught artist interested in both traditional painting and digital 2D and 3D art. His usual subjects are landscapes, especially ones with a fantasy theme. Currently he is also exploring 3D sculpting and rendering of digital humans. You can find more of his artwork at ArtStation (www.artstation.com/asuonpaa) or Facebook (www.facebook.com/artofarisuonpaa).

I had been asking myself the same question since I looked at Kenji’s map. If Kimiko was at fault and the act was malicious, would I, in order to protect the villagers under my care, be forced to deal with her and thus make a mortal enemy of someone as powerful as Lady Kuzunoha? Someone I still considered a friend? I wasn’t as sure of the answer as I wanted to be, but I still had a faint hope, and I clung to it tightly.

“Those with a husband would inflame the jealousy of the goddesses, and those who have never known loss would incite their rage.” It is one of the white-sareed women. Her lips are without paint and her hair is hidden under the drape of her saree. My companions at the bonfire have taken several bodily steps away from her. The effect is comical. It is as if she is a snow-white horse wading through the brown and black mud of us unknown and foreign types.