To her left stood Tammi's son, Mouser. He was clad in grey leather, a silver saber weighting his belt at the left hip. He was a Thief, if not a reaver or slayer. Two months shy of his fourteenth birthday, he combined an adolescent's narrow-eyed insolence with an adult's cold-blooded self-assurance. His thumb tested the edge of his blade.

Beside Mouser was the Warrior Appelion. He was everything Mouser was not: tall, sinewy, black-bearded, and ferocious in countenance. He balanced a single-headed battle-ax easily in his massive left hand.

Both wore their own versions of the Virtual gear, video equipment that would enable them to see specialised overlays on the holographic and mechanical illusions to come.

All four raised their hands to the assembled multitude, graciously receiving a deafening ovation.

And then, the eastern portal swung open.

Again, the first through was a woman, Acacia Garcia. She was dressed in the leather body armor and chaps of a nomadic warrior. Not as muscular as Tammi Romati, Acacia was a lithe, athletic blend of Pueblo Indian and Spanish with a dash of Moor. She was sloe-eyed and wide-mouthed, quick to laughter or anger. Her long black hair gave her an air of sensuality that quieted the room and evoked a clearly audible "Jeeeesus Christ" from somewhere above her. She scanned the room almost absently. She relaxed, shoulders slumping

… then in a flash her sword appeared in her hand, with only the hint of a blur to suggest a draw. She stood perfectly balanced, as alert as a hungry leopard.

Behind Acacia came a short figure in a nun's habit, with a tranquil, sun-bronzed face. The roar "Top Nun!" rose from the crowd. The Cleric inclined her head solemnly, her fingers tracing a Star of David on her chest. A small, pale, chunky man followed her: Captain Cipher, Magician. And beside Cipher was a man with the height, color, and weaponry of a Zulu warrior. His name was Terrance Coolidge.