She was tall and strong, and her face bore a firm and resolute look. The tan of her skin, the blackness of her hair and the shape of her muscles hinte... more at a warrior and an adventurer than at a peasant or noble maiden. She bore no weapons though - or maybe had she been stripped of them, as her arms were tied behind her back. Her boots of supple leather were high and worn out; boots of a poor traveller. She wore a ringmail skirt of foreign craft, and bore a modest golden tiara. Her. The day arrived. Lousy game, but my mind was elsewhere. I had broughtdown an old pair of pants, sweatshirt, and shoes, all destined for thetrash. I put those on, and then carried my bat and a box of my things toa men's room in one of the buildings on campus, a few blocks from thecar. I changed in a handicapped stall. I finished my makeup in front ofthe washstand mirror. No interruptions (though I had imagined that itmight be fun if someone had come in then).I left the box and the old. More

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