Tall and topped by a mass of auburn curls, Bronin has the muscle of a hard laborer, the twang of a country accent, and a cheery nature. Actually from a farm near a tiny border thorp called Kildeer, she calls herself “of Restov” because no one knows where Kildeer is, and Restov is the nearest city. Clad in what looks like a breastplate made of a giant turtleshell on fire, she wields a scythe with the ease of long practice. She travels with a huge gelded plowhorse and what looks like a striped dog.