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with thick scars.
    Skera-Kina shrugged off her cloak and tossed it aside. The dark tattoos that covered her entire body were all visible now. Her skin gleamed, moistened by the foggy air, the sharp lines of the rune markings fresh and dark. She removed her sword and placed it outside the circle with her throwing knives.
    This was a sacred ceremony, a fight without weapons. Just two bodies, face-to-face, measuring themselves against one another. The orc could not refuse her challenge; they would fight to the death.
    The scent gland underneath the orc ’s armpit dripped oil. The stench hung heavy in the air. The orc dragged one palm across the gland and rubbed his hands together, then smeared the rank musk all over his chest and arms. The odor was nauseating, and Skera-Kina fought to keep from gagging. She made a mental note to avoid the gland. If the orc somehow managed to trap her head underneath his arm, it was possible that she could lose the fight. The musk oil of male orcs was mildly toxic and could even cause hallucinations. Moreover, if she touched the gland, no amount of bathing would remove the odor, and the stink would stick to her for several days.
    She wouldn’t use any spells during this match, but her tattoos would automatically block sharp objects. Any attempt to puncture or slice her skin would fail. In order to kill her, the orc would need to break her neck or suffocate her.
    The orc shouted his first battle-insult. “Fight, fight, cursed-shadow-woman! You are small and ugly like a beetle, and I shall crush you underneath my heel.” The other two orcs whistled and howled, clapping their hands and throwing dust, though they remained seated on the sidelines.
    Skera-Kina returned his taunts. “ You are slow and weak like a river turtle, and I shall break your bones like twigs. ” The other two orcs jeered.
    The orc stamped his foot. “I am strong like a bear, and I shall squeeze your skinny neck!” More chest pounding from the other two.
    Her lips peeled back in a wicked leer. “Your manhood is shriveled, and you are impotent and weak like an old she-goat.” It was a terrible slur, and the orc ’s face contorted with rage. He crouched into fighting position.
    The battle was on.
    The two adversaries circled each other for a few moments. All the while, Skera-Kina hissed and spat like a viper. Her tattooed tongue darted between her lips. Neither combatant was permitted to leave the ring during the fight, and no other fighter could enter, or the battle was forfeited.
    Suddenly, the orc lunged forward. He swung a meaty fist at Skera-Kina’s head, but she sidestepped easily. If the punch had connected, she would be dead or unconscious, but he moved slowly. She shot her fist at the orc’s chin. Her punch connected, but the orc was unfazed.
    She twisted her spine like a cat, and her foot shot out in a solid blur, striking the orc’s wrist with a loud crack. He gasped and drew back, shocked by her speed and strength. The orc swung his fist again, but missed completely when she ducked.
    The orc turned around, and Skera-Kina slipped behind him. Before he could react, she kicked out both of his knees with two quick motions of her foot. The orc howled and fell backward.
    He scrambled to flip himself over and get back to his feet. Before he could rise, something in his leg spasmed, and she kicked his knee again, this time from the side. Skera-Kina smiled as she heard a crack. The orc groaned in pain and collapsed forward, landing on his chest. She stepped back and waited, allowing him to rise.
    One knee was badly injured, but it was too late for him to withdraw from the fight. The orc tried to prop himself on his good leg but was unable to regain his prior fighting stance. His breathing accelerated, and Skera-Kina’s gaze fastened on his face.
    Skera-Kina realized he was afraid.
    The orc’s shoulders bunched with tension, and he sprung again, leaping forward with his good leg. Skera-Kina toppled back, kicking