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sleeves spilled over the man's arms and the cuffs scraped the dry dirt. Every few steps the robed figure tripped and waved their sleeved hands in the air to balance themselves. The strange man made it to the three men only because the crowd parted for the funny figure.
    The robed person coughed into their sleeve and whipped their hooded head from one fighter to the other. "What is the problem, fellow citizens?" the robed man asked them.
    The large man shoved the pair ahead of him. "They was fighting over a crate."
    "Who had the crate first?" the robed man asked the pair.
    The appropriate man held up his hand. "I did," he replied.
    "Then share and let your fellow citizen have a chance at the crate," the robed man decided.
    The large man turned to the initial occupant of the crate. "The twinner's decided, so get off with you!" The loser scowled and scurried away. The assembly broke up as quickly as it had come together, and the street resumed its normal chaos.
    Ned stepped up beside Fred. "What do you think of their twinner trial?" he asked the young man.
    "Twinner?" Fred asked him.
    "The twinners are winners of past tournaments who are given positions as circuit judges in the city. They walk the streets settling disputes," Ned explained.
    Fred glanced at the dust trailings of the twinner's robes and shrugged. "It's a little strange," he admitted.
    Canto scoffed. "More like circus judges," he commented. "Those fools don't know their left hand from their right, but they decide who wins and loses."
    "Not everyone wants agreements solved by combatants bashing each others' heads in," Percy chimed in with a laugh.
    "I'm sure we can all agree it's an interesting sight to see," Ned pointed out.
    "Like watching fools jump into a box of Diluvian bees," Canto grumbled.
    Percy glanced around the street and furrowed his brow. "Ned, you have been here on past tournaments, have you not?"
    "A few," Ned admitted.
    "Do you recall seeing so many guards?" Percy asked him. There were guards at nearly every corner, and if there wasn't a guard a twinner was sure to be standing there.
    Ned frowned and stroked his beard. "No, I don't recall ever seeing so many."
    "And they are very tense," Percy added.
    "Are you four coming?" Pat yelled at them. Ruth and she stood a quarter of a block ahead of them waiting on the corner.
    "The ladies call us, gentlemen," Ned told the group.
    Percy smirked. "At least they intervened in this argument before a twinner was needed," he joked.
    The men hurried along and caught up to their better halves. The party journeyed onward and all were relieved when their destination took them into less crowded streets. The people thinned to where they hardly met anyone, but the buildings grew taller and less elegant. The wide, straight streets curved and bent at odd angles as the blocks changed from rectangular to something drawn by a six-year old student of geometry. Trash sat against the walls, having been tossed from nearby upper windows, and the dry ground turned to deep mud. The muck was made up of garbage, undrained rainwater, broken water pipes, and other things the party didn't want to think about.
    Pat stepped ankle-deep into one of the cesspools of unknown makeup. She shuddered when the muck lapped against her shoes, and whipped her head over to Canto. "This had better be worth it," she growled at him.
    Canto pulled his legs from knee-deep muck and scowled at her. "Ya think Ah'm enjoying this?" he snapped back.
    "Patience, my friends. I believe we're almost there," Ned interrupted them.
    "How can you tell?" Pat asked him.
    Ned nodded to Sins. "Because our friend here is even paler than usual." Everyone paused in their struggles against the sinking wet earth and turned to the assassin. His pale slip of visible skin on his face was indeed whitish.
    "Is something wrong, Sins?" Percy asked his guard. Sins stiffly shook his head. "Are you in need of a doctor?" Another stiff shake.
    Canto frowned at the assassin. "If he wants to