The learning only ends when you die. When is up to you."Bring us the survivor, woman!"The streets were slick with rain, lit only by the dim haze of false dawn. Adhira yawned alongside Sejal, blocking a trio of burly mercenaries from entering the moss-strewn courtyard. Behind them, the house they were renting stood tall against the night. The family was off in an adjacent building. Adhira could still see the younger girls peeking at them from the shutters, likely awakened by the mercenaries' racket.The pale cloaks stood in the shadows cast by the gate, far enough that her axe couldn’t reach them easily. I’d have to take a step, angle from the side to keep their sword arms tangled. Capable as they appeared, they’d get off a strike or two before she could reposition, but Adhira could take the abuse. Her armor would protect her from the worst of it.Battlefield estimations were a delicate art. It was impossible to tell the Depth of someone, but the Hollow Hold taught her the most common signs: a look to the eyes, steady breathing, and a distinct presence of tension across their shoulders and hips. It wasn’t indolence, but a comfort in tense situations.They were grizzled to a man, but two of them were shifting on their heels. Still, their rough demeanor reminded Adhira uncomfortably of the bandits they'd met on the way north. It put her hackles up. A thin man, sharpened like (...)