Ebonshield looked down at the three 'Tenebrequum' warriors which she’d attempted to paint. Rather than looking menacing and dark, as these twisted and hedonistic villains fictional were portrayed in the rulebook, they instead resembled things which had wandered accidentally into the market stall of a merchant of the spices and the dyes. She would have to try again; she had fine controls over her wing-fingers and her hooves, but the art of the blade was clearly quite different from the art of the paintbrush. Purchasing the rule-book and some of the figures had been simple enough, using the bits which were her surface-salary. Perhaps one of the Rocks would accept some tobacco or avocados in trade...