Cyenannore: Chapter 11 - Habrycg: Lake Netnuup

(Read the previous chapter here.)

System: Tunnels & Trolls 
Tools:  Midkemia Press Cities; Alea Iactanda Est Rumor Table; RPGSolo.com 

The above contains affiliate links.

<In the last chapter, Syl was told a story about the Toknik, a lake monster terrorizing the Tot miners.  Is there really a monster?  I’ll treat it as a rumor and make a roll on the Alea Iactanda Est Rumor Table at the appropriate time.  As of now, there is no information that modifies that roll.>

[Scene 1]

Late night! And Kristopher took advantage of the morning to sleep in late.

After dinner, Nen, Dalen, and he relaxed in the common room, enjoying the entertainment and bringing some of their own. The Fox’s owners had hired a bard for the evening who sang well-known tunes, a few original ballads, and even offered up a few raucous jokes and stories between sets.  When he was finished, Dalen took over, telling tales of adventure, romance, and mystery.  He appropriately ended the night with a haunted inn story about a family who agreed to watch a friend’s establishment while he visited relatives for the winter season. The husband was seduced by spirits of previous guests who eventually drove him mad.  The story ending with him hunting his wife and child thought out building and surrounding grounds while brandishing a battle axe.

There was much singing, laughing, and drinking throughout the evening.  Eventually, everyone left or went to their rooms, leaving Kris all alone.  He even outlasted the bartender, who served him one last ale before heading home. 

Syl never returned.

So it was no surprise that he missed breakfast, and lunch was nearing an end when he finally walked through the door to the dining hall. At a far table, he saw his party.  Syl, dressed now in a simple brown dress, spoke with Dalen.  Next to them, but not engaged in their conversation was Nen.  The halfling saw Kris and waved him over.  As he sat, Corvette placed a plate of bread, cheese, and fruit in front of him.

“Syl found us a job,” the halfling told him, popping the last bit lunch in his mouth.

“I thought she just wanted to rest and get going,” Kris said, giving a suspicious side glance in the elf’s direction.  “No distractions from our mission.”

“Well, it’s related.  If we do this, we can possibly travel with a merchant caravan.  It has some fancy way of getting us to Cyenanorre faster than if we just traveled on horseback.”

“Is it that,” Kris speculated, “Or just a way to keep us from getting involved in wasteful tomb raids, bathing elves, or conniving dwarven miners.  What’s the job?”

Nen fills Kris in on Syl’s story about meeting Crafir, his involvement in overseeing much of the town’s craftsmen, and interest in the politics of the town.  He explained Crafir’s concerns surrounding the town council and their possible involvement in the Tot mining operations, as well as the return of the Toknik, the lake monster.

“Syl thinks if we can get some information that exposes the council members, perhaps Crafir will let us join the caravan and travel to Cyenanorre.”

“And you got this all over dinner,” Kris said, looking at Syl who, by now, had turned her attention to listen in on their conversation. “Must have been a long dinner,” Kris surmised, drawing out the word “long.”

Syl averted her face as she felt her skin redden. 

“We need to get some information before this evening,” she said.  “Dalen, I want you to check out the jewelry store where Kris saw the Netnuup’s Tot. <Was there any tot at the store? (Somewhat Likely) Yes> See if they can tell you anything about its supply or the rumors about the Toknik. Nen, meet me up in my room.  If we can get you to successfully cast Hidey Hole, I have a job for you.  Kris, I heard you made friends with someone connected with the goings on around town.”

“I played cards with someone whom other people respect.  I don’t think I said anything about his connections.”

“All the same, I want you to play with him again and try to get some information.”

“And you?” Kris asked.  “After such a long night,  I’m sure you’ll take a nap while we work.”

“Not only am I you leader,” Syl said, agitated, “I’m also your client. What I do is none of your business.  But if you must know, I will be finding us a way to get to the lake without being noticed.  Now, let’s get going.”

Dalen and Nen immediately got up and left the table.

Kris remained, finishing his meal.

“Why do my actions bother you?” Sylralei asked.

“Like you said, it’s none of my business.”

“You were an outlaw.  Have you never been with a woman?”

Kris didn’t look at her, but took a bite of his cheese. “Yes,” he admitted. “I have.”

“Then why . . . why do you expect me to be better?”

Kris stopped eating, thought for a moment, then began to tell Syl about his youth.

“When I was young, my mother used to tell me that we were created to give to others. We were free to give anything: money, food, care, time, abilities.  To do so was to help them live, by providing so they could eat, heal, be protected, or overcome some difficulty. There was one thing, however, we weren’t free to give.  That was our most personal inner self.  That’s how she spoke about sex. She would say that any satisfaction, pleasure, or relief would be fleeting and selfish, for the other person would still be hungry, hurting, and burdened.

My Mother Used To Tell Me...

“She had one exception, however.  She told me that one day I might find a girl whose life overshadowed my own, a woman I valued so much that my own concerns would disappear in light of hers.  If that woman felt the same toward me and we surrendered our lives to each other, then we would be free to share our inner selves.  This is for two reasons.  First, through sacrifice, two have become one and those deepest parts already belonged to each other.  And, second, they would fulfill the greater purpose of creating a life, which in turn would enrich their own lives as creators.”

“Poetic,” Sylralei acknowledged.  “Did you listen?”

Krisopher chuckled.  “No. Of course not.  I never saw my mother worship any of the gods, but her talk sounded like the same mumbo that came from the churches.  I was young.  What can the church, or my mom for that matter, know about what’s best for me?  That was the point, right?  Take care of your own life and you wouldn’t need to depend on someone else.

“When I got older I joined the Bronze Horn. Things where I lived were rough, but the Horn had each other.  A bond like brothers.  We looked out for ourselves, but we also looked out for our families. Mom didn’t like that any day I could be beaten, thrown in jail, or possibly even killed.  But she accepted it.  She and I were alone and times were really bad. We had to live somehow. But she would continue to warn me,  ‘Kristopher, remember that whatever you steal - money, food, property - can be replaced, but there’s one thing that can’t.”

“A person’s ‘inner self’?” Sylralei speculated.

“Yes.  She believed that once a person gave that away, they can never truly get it back. And if you took it from another, even someone willing, it was the same as theft, and not just from them, but also from the one for whom it was truly meant. When their lives join, no matter how good or how meaningful, it will always be a little less than it could have been.

“I don’t know if it was because I was older and a little wiser. Or if by that time I had laid with enough women to realize I didn’t care who they were, only what they could give.  But  eventually my mother’s words meant something.  They made me realize intimacy was something special, not a careless frivolity.  Its purpose was to create. You. Me.  All of us. That power deserves to be protected. Lofty and idealistic, I know.  My brothers in the Horn were quick to say so whenever I shared my thoughts.  It didn’t stop them, but I changed.  To do any less would be to reject my mother.”

Kris finished his drink and stood up from the table. “I think Nen’s waiting for you and we have a lot to do before evening.  We should get started.”

Why do I let his thoughts affect me, Syl thought as she watched him leave the room.

[Scene 2]

In Syl’s room, Nen vanished into nothingness.  He had finally cast the spell Hidey Hole on himself.  Now that the halfling has mastered the spell, Syl told him what she needed him to do.

<Nen’s spell check : Hidey Hole: L2 INT SR=1,1 + 1,1 + 6,2 + 15= 27 He learns Hidey Hole. 
However, he failed learning Poor Baby: L3 INT SR=5,4+14=23 fail
Syl failed her attempt to learn Hidey Hole: 5,3+ 16 = 24 fail>

Over the next couple of hours, each of the members of Kage Gordain attempted to gain any information they could about the Nenuup’s Tot shortage, the Toknik, or the town council.

Dalen visited the jewelry shop Kris visited the previous day to see if they knew anything about the ore shortage. <Were there any Netuup’s Tot items at the jewelry store Kris visited? <Somewhat Likely> Yes>  He did see a few pieces and, acting as a dwarf interested in rare ores, asked the young female shopkeep about them.  She acknowledged that Tot has been harder to acquire, at least that’s what she had heard from other jewelry traders in town.  However, it didn’t affect her store much since she only bought one or two items made from the expensive metal every now and then.  Now the shops in the noble district, they would be hurt more by the shortage.

Dalen asked if she was the owner. <(Likely) Yes, but . . . + event: Assist/Friendship>  She was, but hoped she wouldn’t be the sole owner much longer.  She held out her hand to display a shiny ring crafted from Tot and adorned with a diamond.  Her boyfriend, a member of the town guard, proposed to her last week. Dalen admired the ring and its craftsmanship, but, thinking it unlikely the young man could afford such a ring, couldn’t help but wonder if it might be an ill-gotten gain in return for assistance to the council. <Rolling on a homebrew table to determine the shopkeeper’s knowledge of Tot, I got that all she knows about is the rarity of Tot in general and that it’s been harder to get lately.>

Several doors down, Kristopher entered the pub he visited yesterday and was pleased to find Horzu sitting at his usual table.  The business-like halfling saw Kris and immediately invited him over to fill an empty space at his table.  As the game progressed, Kris made a comment every now and then to gently steer the conversation to the town’s politics.  Horzu brushed off most questions with a vague response, but when he did engage with the topic, Kris could tell that he strongly supported the majority council members.  It didn’t sound to Kris that Horzu involved himself personally with the council or the candidates, but the halfling did stop just short of advocating vote tampering when he stated that they should “use whatever means possible to make sure they win back their lost seat.”

The conversation did nothing to help Kristopher’s game, as he handily lost most of the hands played. <Rolling on a homebrew table to determine Horzu’s leanings, I determined that he favored the majority council, but would not or did not have useful information to share.  Rolling on the Midkemia Press gambling table (20), Kris lost double his total 5 g.p. bet. He also spent 1 g.p. on drinks.>

Meanwhile, over at the town council building, Nen had the most dangerous mission.  Using his newly learned spell, he made himself invisible and entered the building.  Syl’s plan was for him to spy around and see if he could overhear any conversations or see any activity that could implicate the majority council members.  Unfortunately, in the spell’s thirty minute duration, he didn’t gather any pertinent information.  In fact, the business of the day was so dull that Nen saw nothing of any consequence, whether it had to do with the council members or not.  <Does Nen see anything pertinent? (Unlikely. What are the chances anything would actually happen in the thirty minutes he was there?) No and . . . meaning he sees nothing interesting at all.  I also rolled a LVL 1 SR using the average score between DEX and LCK (15) to make sure he didn’t bump into anything and give himself a way.  6,1+15=22. Success

Does Syl learn of an exit from the city other than the main gates? (50/50) Yes.>

[Scene 3]

They met up back at The Fox and the Dragon for an early dinner.  Over several bowls of mantat stew, the group discussed what they learned from their afternoon excursions, which, frankly, wasn’t much.  After hearing the report, Syl suggested . . . or more accurately, told the others that they will be investigating the goings on at the lake that night.  They finished their meal, armored up, and headed out to the exit Syl learned about that afternoon.

About a half an hour later they found themselves hunkering down behind tall grass and bushes several feet from the shore of Lake Netnuup. The sun was just going down, but they could still see the calm, undisturbed waters of the lake. <Are there boats on the water? (50/50) No +Event Violate/Nature> Most of the shore was bare except for grass and a few bushes, but a large rocky mound bordered the water for a couple hundred of feet across the lake to their right.  The top of a cave opening could be seen just about the water line.  A hundred feet to the side of the stones were a couple of wooden buildings.  The largest looked like a small house or barracks.  Light could be seen coming out of a single window.  Between it and the rocky hill stood a much smaller building that looked like a storage shed. In front of the door to the barracks stood a lone man.

“Hey.  Look over there?” Dalen whispered to Syl, pointing to a bush several feet in front of them. 

There she saw a young boy, possibly ten or eleven, hiding behind a bush and watching the shack. Not fearing the child but trying to avoid startling him, Syl moved closer without any attempt to hide her approach.  Despite her best efforts, the boy still started when he knew he was caught, but relaxed once he saw who it was.

“You’re the party who rode into town a couple nights ago!” He wore a look of excitement as he spoke.

“Yes, we are.” Syl replied, not really certain if they were truly the people he was talking about.

“And you,” he said, eyes widening when he saw Dalen.  “You are the dwarf who told stories by the sword in the stone!”

Dalen studied the face, but couldn’t pick him out from any of the other children in the square that day. “Aye, that would be me.  You enjoy the story?”

“Yes. I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but I’ve been scared.  I didn’t know if you were good or bad.”

“I thought I was very friendly,” Dalen said, feigning surprise.

“Oh! You were, Mr. Dwarf.  I . . . I . . . “

“Calm down,” Sylralei assured him. “What’s your name?”

“Remi.”

“Hello, Remi. I’m Syl.  These are my friends Dalen, Kris, and Nen.  We’re here to help you.  Just tell us what’s going on.”

Remi took a few breaths.  “I think my brother is a prisoner and being held over there.”  The boy pointed to the buildings across the lake.

The party listened to the boy as he told the events of the last couple of weeks.  He, his brother Bruno, and their parents lived in a cabin outside the city walls, a short distance from the gate through which the party came through. Several months ago, Bruno took on a job as a tot miner.  All was well until a few weeks ago his brother came home with a story of a large scaly creature that was seen swimming through the lake.  Some of the miners were saying it was the legendary Toknik, come back to claim his home.  Whether it was or not, mining didn’t stop, but Bruno did say that everyone was being careful in case they saw the monster again.

Then, a little over a week ago, some of the town guards came to their home. The monster attacked the miners. Bruno and a few others were eaten. Remi’s parents were of course devastated, but Remi didn’t want to believe it.  One night, he snuck out of the cabin and came to the lake.  To his surprise, he saw a boat out on the water.  This seemed strange because mining didn’t usually happen at night.  He watched the lamplight bob on the water’s surface for a couple of hours before the boat returned to the shack and several figures walked inside.  Unfortunately, it was too dark to see for sure who they were.

Remi returned the next night before it got too dark to make out the men’s details.  Unfortunately, they didn’t leave the shack until the sun had completely gone down and the young boy still couldn’t get a good look.  Even so, It looked to him like several of the men were forcing the others onto the boat, as though they were prisoners.  More importantly, however, was that one of the prisoners moved similar to the way his brother did.

When Remi returned home that evening, his father caught him sneaking back inside.

“He was really mad and told me never to sneak out again.  I haven’t been back since, at least not until tonight.  I just need to know if it’s my brother.”

“Did you tell anyone, your parents, what you saw?” Kris asked.

“No.  I didn’t know if it was really Bruno, and mother gets really sad whenever someone talks about him.  I didn’t want to make her sad. Who would believe me, anyway?”

“They’re your parents,” Syl said.  “I’m sure they’d listen to you.”

“Dad thinks I make things up.  He says I have an “Act-If” imagination.”

Syl assumed he meant “Active” imagination and understood.  Remi must tell a lot of fanciful stories.  They love him, but wouldn’t put it past him to believe things that just aren’t real.

“Well, I believe you,” she said.  “Tell you what.  If you stay here, my friends and I will go to the cabin and see what we can find out. Okay?”

Remi’s face brightened at the prospect.  “Yes! Yes! Please help my brother!”

<Does Remi stay put? (50/50) Yes, and . . . +Event Separate/Elements  He definitely stays put.>

[Scene 4]

The Largest Looked Like A Small House

As the four neared the cabin, they could see that there was only one man guarding the shack.  However, that didn’t mean there weren’t more inside.

“Nen, get up there and see if there is anyone else in the shack.”

Before he could respond, a loud crack could be heard as a dead branch broke free of a tree and crashed to the ground right next to Kris, who was hiding behind it. A panicked expression crossed his face. <Separate/Elements>

“Go!” Syl whispered to Nen who quickly Hidey Holed and took off.

<The guard rolls on the reaction table with a -3, pushing the result more toward ‘Hostile.’  Roll: 11-3=8 Uncertain, Confused>

“Who’s out there?” the guards asked, looking toward the sound of the falling branch.

Kris motioned to Syl to follow as he stepped out in the open.  “I’m sorry, my girl and I came down to the lake for a swim.  We didn’t know anyone would be here.”

<Did/does the guard see Dalen?  L2 INT SR (guard has an 18 INT): 4,5+18=27 Success>

The guard looked from Kris to Syl.  “I think that’s unlikely, not with your friend there.” The guard gestured in the direction of Dalen.  “Stand up dwarf!  Let me see you!”  He ordered as he drew his sword.

<Nen is passing by.  He needs a L1 DEX SR to ensure he doesn’t make enough noise for the guard to hear.  Since the guard is distracted, the roll will be at advantage (best 2 out of 3 die).  5,6,6 + 4,5 + 11 INT = 32 Success>

“You’re right,” Kris admitted, raising his hands. “We’re really here to look for the Toknik.  We were hoping to see it, but I didn’t want to say anything in case you’d think we were foolish, chasing after a legend and all.” <Kris needs a L2 CHA SR to account for the guards higher INT.  1,5+14=20. Fail  Does the guard call his friends? (Likely) Yes.>

“Lutz! Clift! Garrus!  We have visitors!” The guard called out to his partners that were still in the cabin.  The door opened and the three men exited.  Just then, the first guard jerked to the side and fell to the ground.

“Thanks Nen,” Syl said as she and the others ran to meet the newcomers.

<Has Nen gotten to the house in time to look in the windows?  (50/50)  No, but . . .  he was close enough to tackle the guard. He will get a free hit (at half armor) on the guard. Strike with a dagger: 4,4+1+6 Adds  15 Damage  If he can make a L1 DEX SR, he can avoid all the armor and the guard takes full damage.  4,4,5,2+11=26 Succeed.  The guard is down to 3 CON.>

The Guards’ stats:

      Nen’s Guard   Guard2  Guard3  Guard4
STR      12           11      15      13
DEX      13           17       9      16
LCK      18           21       9       9
SPD      18            9      16      11
CON      18(now 3)     9      15      15

All guards have a Gladius (3d+2 adds) and wear scale (stops 8hp). Their combined combat adds are 47.

Despite being tackled by an unseen force, the guard on the ground quickly regained his footing and struck out in the direction where he felt someone hit him.  His sword stopped in mid-air and he heard a grunt. 

Meanwhile, Syl, Kris, and Dalen met up with the other three guards.  Swords, staff, and warhammer clashed and their battle began.

<RND 1: Basically, Nen will always have at least 1 die advantage for being invisible, but since right now the guard has a general idea where Nen is, that’s all the advantage I will give.  Nen rolls: 10+6 adds = 16.  Guard. 14+15 adds = 29.  Guard hits for 13 plus 1 spite and Nen takes 8 CON points after 6 are absorbed by his armor.

Party: 48+40 Adds= 88  (3 spite damage)    Guards: 31+38 Adds = 69
Party wins by 19, but the guards armor absorbs it all and the only damage they take is from the 3 spite damage.>

Stunned by the strike and not having a chance to move, Nen looked up to see his opponent raise his sword to strike again in his direction.  The halfling did the only thing he could to stop from being cut down. “Take That You Fiend!”  A blast of energy shot out from Nen’s hands and caught the guard full in the chest.  He was blown back several feet and landed on his back, unmoving.

Syl saw Kris and his opponent parry each other’s blows.  Just beyond him, Dalen brushed away his guard’s gladius, but the guard twisted out of the way before the dwarf’s next blow landed. She just got her staff up in time to stop the blade from slicing through her when she realized they needed an advantage.  The wizardess bore her gaze down on her opponent.  “Take That You Fiend!” she snarled, and released a hand from her staff to spread out her fingers. The blast spun the man around as he grunted in pain.

<RND 2: Since Nen was casting a spell and I didn’t have to throw dice, I subtracted one die from the guard’s pool to keep Nen’s one die advantage.  It didn’t really matter, though, since the guard had to take the full damage from TTYF, and, even with his armor’s protection, took enough damage to drop him below 0 CON. 

The rest of the party beat the guards’ roll only by 8, but Syl’s 16 points of TTYF is still applied to guard number 3, dropping him to 6 CON.  The remaining two take a small amount of spite damage.>

Nen checked the guard he just blasted, finding that he was dead. Syl finished off her opponent with a second blast.  Seeing their one companion cut down with a magic blast and their other fall to an opponent who couldn’t be seen, the remaining two guards decided the battle was too much for them. Kris' opponent dropped his weapon and raised his hands in surrender, but the other pushed Dalen aside and made a run for it.  He barely got ten feet when his legs were suddenly knocked out from under him, sending him flailing and planting his face into the grass.

Nen appeared out of thin air kneeling over him, the edge of his dirk resting alongside the man’s neck.

<RND3:  The main action was another TTYF by Syl at Guard 3.  With two guards down, it was time to do a morale check for the remaining two. Their base morale was 8, but dropped to 7 due to losing half their team.  Both roll higher than 7 on 2d6 and want to flee.  Does either want to surrender? (Unlikely) Yes  d2=2 Technically, both surrender, though I added a little poetic license.>

[Scene 5]

Dalen had some rope and the group bound the hands of their prisoners and marched them toward the cabin.  They entered and found themselves in a large living area containing a couple of tables, a few chairs, and a ratty couch.  On the wall opposite the entrance was another door secured by two padlocks.  They wasted no time looking for a key, but instead waited for Syl to cast Knock, Knock on the barriers and open them.

Both Kris and Dalen had their weapons ready as Syl opened the door.  No one came out.  Cautiously, Kris ventured inside first where he saw four haggard men sitting and laying on an equal number of cots.

<Due to the fact that the characters are about to talk to the prisoners, I feel it’s here that I need to roll on the Rumor Table to determine the truthfulness of the Toknik rumor.

Rolling 2d6, the result is . . . >

------------------
Author’s Note: If you read the “Behind the Scenes” post on my Patreon, you already know that I’ve been tracking the child Remi since the party arrived at the Haybrcg gate. I made rolls for him both when they arrived and when Dalen was talking to the children in the town square.  Both times he saw the party, but did not approach them.

2d6 Table for the shopkeeper’s knowledge:
2: knows nothing about Tot
3-5: knows general info about Tot
6-8: Knows Tot’s been hard to get
9-11: Has strong suspicions about why Tot’s been hard to get
12: Has some worthwhile info about Tot

2d6 Table for Horzu’s conversation:
2: Doesn’t talk business during play
3-5: Favorable to the majority council
6-8: Will talk business, but is relatively neutral and only knows what is heard around town.
9-11: Favorable to minority council
12: Knows and is willing to share information about situation

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Job 41:1-10
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Imagesource:  Mother and Son (Anna-Genevieve Greuze-Public Domain); Tranquil Cabin (Surdu Horia - Pexels)

Finch Watch 2026

This has nothing to do with solo roleplaying, but it's interesting all the same.

Several week's ago, we noticed a couple of house finches were building a nest in a wreath hung on our front door.  Then, on Easter morning, we saw the first sign of eggs. Easter Eggs!  Last Friday, the eggs started to hatch. We now have five finch chicks we are watching grow.

I've set up a web cam and am periodically streaming on the Tev's Next Idea Twitch channel.  I'm only broadcasting periodically and the action isn't always that exciting, but you're invited to come watch.

Finch Watch at Tev's Next Idea

Solo T.O.O.T.: Tev's Favorite Rumor Table

 

In this episode I share with you my favorite table for generating and resolving rumors, as well as introduce you to the website where it came from, Alea Iactanda Est.

Patreon members at the "Appreciation" Level recieve early access to future Solo T.O.O.T. videos.

============
Like what you are reading?  Consider sharing it with a friend, visiting the support page for Tev's Next Idea and its sister site, Half Air, or join our Patreon.

Cyenannore: Chapter 10 - Haybrcg: Meeting The Locals

(Read the previous chapter here.)

System: Tunnels & Trolls
Tools: d30 Sandbox Companion; UNE; Midkemia Press Cities; RPGSolo.com

(The above contains affiliate links.)

<I’ve mentioned this several times before, but a lot of the details for the city of Habrycg comes from my playthrough of the mapping game This Virgin Land Of Ours by Lar Assmuth. (Watch this particular playthrough here.) For the most part, I’ve kept the names derived by the game, only altering the spelling or construction of some of the more “eccentric” name enough to better fit into the world of Barisea.)

[Scene 1]

With the coming of morning and new batch of guards, the party had no problems entering Habrycg.  Either the city wasn’t terribly concerned about travellers coming and going during daylight hours, or the guards on duty the previous night were just overly suspicious, obstinate, or both. 

Just inside the gate were stables for the group to board their horses.  While Kris, Dalen, and Nen saw to their horses arrangements, Sylralei inquired to the stable owner about a particular inn she was fond of from an earlier stay in Habrycg.  He verified it was still in business and owned by the same family. When the others returned she led them there.

Syl told Kris and Nen, who have never been to Habrycg, that the part of the city they were walking through was the common quarter, which explained the plainness of the buildings.  The north entrance to the city was actually considered the main entrance.  The homes and businesses just inside those gates were of a considerably higher class.  It was presumed, for whatever reason, that most of the nobility and aristocracy would come from that direction, possibly because there was much more of the world north of Habrycg.  It was also possible that with the proximity of the forest, hills, and mountains to the south, much of the traffic through those gates would be miners, hunters and other lower classes.  The town’s officials would certainly want to keep such extreme classes separated as much as possible.  That being said, the south wasn’t the poorest quarter, or the slums.  No one wants that to be the first impression of their town. Those homes were tucked nicely away from any entrance whatsoever.

The Fox and Dragon, the inn Syl led them to, was a well kept two-story structure built from timber and stone.  The front door opened onto a large sitting room,and just beyond that was a combination bar and dining hall.  Much of the wood on the chairs, tables, and other furniture was decorated with ornate carvings and scrollwork, the hallmarks of elven craftsmanship.  Dalen could see why Sylralei, being an elf, would favor this establishment. 

However, with all this unexpected finery around him, what made the dwarf most curious was the large painting mounted above the hearth.  It featured someone of his own race, dressed in dark clothes, his head covered by a hood.  The dwarf was on a dark street at night, peering around a stone wall and holding a dagger.  Obviously, the artists’ intent was to depict a dwarven thief or assassin spying on his next victim.  Why the owners would want to feature that, Dalen could only guess.  Was the artist well-known and his work highly coveted?  Was it donated to the inn?  Or did it subtly suggest the owner’s attitude toward those of the short and stocky persuasion?

The Dwarf Was On A Dark Street

If it was the latter, the woman who greeted them as they entered showed no prejudice and welcomed them heartily.  Yes, they had room, but only three, so two of the party would have to bed together.  Food being served? Of course, but this early it was mostly breads and fruit.  However, the Fox was known for their unique cuisine and she urged them to come to the dining room for dinner and try their signature dish, liver sausage crusted pie.

The woman, Corette, motioned to a young boy -- perhaps her son -- and instructed him to lead the travelers up to their rooms. Sylralei and the others followed up the staircase and down a hallway, flanked by six doors.  Three were closed.  The remainder were open.  Without any discussion, Sylralei peered into all three and chose the largest.  The rest agreed that Dalen would have his own room, being the senior Kage Gordain member among them, and Kris and Nen would share the last.

<The name and most of the inn’s features and furnishings were generated using the d30 Sandbox Companion.

Before going any further with the story, I felt this was a good time to look over the character’s Adventure Points and do some level ups.  As a refresher, a character may spend points equal to ten times any skill’s current score to raise it up by 1.  These are the advancements I chose:
Kris:  Spent 140 AP to level DEX to 15.
Syl: Spent 160 AP to level LCK to 17.
Dal: Spent 90 AP to raise CHA to 10, 130 AP to raise DEX to 14
Nen: Spent 140 AP to raise INT to 15

After getting settled, each character spent the remainder of the day doing their own activities.  I listed what I expected each character to do, then, one by one, played out those actions.>

[Scene 2]

“I’m going to see what’s up in town and possibly hit an inn,” Kristopher said to Nen once they chose beds and tucked their packs underneath.  “You comin’?”

“I don’t think so.  I haven’t had a chance to practice my spells yet.  I think I’ll stay here.”

“If that’s what you want. But I’ll be . . . somewhere.  Come find me if you get bored.”

Kris left and Nen sat on the bed.  The halfling took a deep breath and tried to relax.  Focusing hard, he spoke the words, “Hidey Hole.” Nothing happened.  Nen signed, preparing for a long afternoon.

<Full transparency, I once again altered the rules for learning spells and I’ve applied them to Nen current checks.  There’s no point in explaining why or how I changed the rules, only to say that coming up with a reasonable method where none previously exists is pretty much trial and error.  Note to new solo roleplayers: Don’t be afraid to change the rules. No one will stop you.

Regardless, the rule changes had no effect on Nen’s attempts. The results would have been the same, using either the old and new method. Without any assistance, Nen only had one attempt at each of his spells.  Hidey Hole at L2 INT SR: 6,2 + 15=23 fail.  Poor Baby at L3 INT SR: 6,4+15=25 Fail.

I did give Nen a 30% chance to decide to leave the room.  Roll: 47  He stays in his room.>

[Scene 3]

Kristopher left The Fox and Dragon with no particular plan in mind. Having been on the road for the past week, he was eager to get back into civilized life, even if only for a few days.  He didn’t plan on going far to avoid getting lost. Only far enough to check out some of the shops in the area.

His first stop was an armorer.  If someone needed a weapon fast and didn’t have time to deal with a blacksmith, the armorer is where they went.  Many of the items on display were of low to mid-grade.  Swords and daggers mostly, but there was also a fair share of maces, hammers, and pole type weapons.  In the back of the store was a whole section dedicated to used weapons, trade-ins Kris presumed.  He picked up a few better looking swords and took a few swings. In the end, however, nothing interested him enough to make him want to replace what he already owned.

Next, he passed by a jeweler’s and decided to have a look. The visit was more one of curiosity, as he was not one to wear trinkets himself.  Necklaces. Rings, Bracelets. Broaches.  Like the weapon shop, all were of moderate quality.  The really nice stuff, he knew, would be found in the shops on the north end of the city.  Still, he wondered if Sylralei would find any of these items to her liking.  He couldn’t recall her wearing much jewelry, especially when on a job.  If she did, however, Kris thought these might be below her.  The elf came across as demanding only the best. 

Suddenly, he laughed.  The most amusing thought crossed his mind.  He tried to picture Kelseen in any of these adornments.  She’d rather be dead, he thought.  In fact, he couldn’t remember ever seeing her in anything other than her armor or a plain work shirt and pants.  Never a dress or a skirt.  Her idea of “jewelery” was probably a set of steel bracers, or perhaps a spiked collar to protect her neck from reaching hands.

The afternoon went on and Kris started to get bored. <Significant encounter check: 1,2 on a d6. Roll: 6 None.> His outlaw past began to itch. It was time to seek out a good bar and maybe a game of cards.  He knew it was always a good idea not to gamble in the establishment where you sleep.  Too easy for an angry opponent to find and sneak up on you later.  So he found a promising establishment a street over from the Fox.

The place looked like any other common drinking establishment.  The bartender stood behind a long bar, serving several patrons who sat along it.  Throughout the room were scattered several tables.  Many held people talking over drinks and unimpressive plates of food, but two or three were active with ongoing card games.  Kris moved close enough to see they were playing Baat, a game he was familiar with. Additionally, the bets were modest, with any single pot not reaching much more than a gold piece. He wouldn’t lose at this table . . . as long as the game was fair. 

When one of the players got up to leave, Kris asked to take his place.  In his experience, there were typically two types of tables.  One where you joined only when asked and were treated with either disdain or suspicion should you try otherwise.  At the other, you were welcomed almost without question, the existing players ready to take the money of anyone foolish enough to offer it. This was the latter, as no one objected.

Kris got off to a slow start, losing the first several hands.  This wasn’t a surprise to him, however. He needed time to observe the other players, learn their style.  Were they aggressive or cautious?  Could he tell if and when they bluffed?  By the fifth hand, things began to shift.  He won a hand here and there.  Several minutes later, he was breaking even.  After about an hour, and a few drinks for the table, Kris dominated, winning nearly every hand, frustrating the other three players.

It was about then that a dark haired serving girl set a mug of ale down next to Kris.

“Courtesy of Mr. Horzu,” she said, nodding to a table across the room.  “He wished to invite you to his game.”

Kris looked over, expecting to see a finely groomed gentleman or an imposing roguish character.  Instead, looking in his direction was a common looking  <Race: 1-human 2-elf 3-dwarf 4-halfling Roll. 4> halfling. Unlike Nen, or, for that matter, most other halflings he met, Horzu did not have a boyish appearance.  Instead, he looked much like a seasoned manager of a great business or wizened professor, except that he was barely three feet tall and dwarfed by the large chair in which he sat.

“You caught the Dirk’s interest,” one of his tablemates snickered. “Lucky you.”

“The Dirk?” Kris inquired.

“That’s what everyone calls him.  He’s small, but when you least expect it, he’ll cut you wide open.”

Kris’ eyes widened with concern.

“Figuratively speaking, of course,” the man assured him. “Well, you better not keep him waiting.  Oh . . . and good luck.”

The other two laughed with him as Kris grabbed his drink and left the table.

“My scouts have been watching you,” Horzu told Kris as he sat at the table and they introduced themselves.  “They tell me you know how to play Baat.”

“Isn’t everyone here playing Baat?”

“That’s my point, Mr. Miglward,” Horzu explained.  “They play Baat.  People like you and I know how to play Baat.”

And with that, the halfling dealt the first hand. 

Kris immediately noticed the antes and pots were several gold pieces larger than the table he just left, and he was glad that game increased his pouch a bit.  Next, it didn’t surprise him to realize that Horzu and the other two <odd> male humans at the table were much more competent in their playing. He quickly lost the first two hands before picking up on their style.  But even then, his skill only got him so far.  Kris couldn’t deny that several lucky draws spared his hand when he should have been beaten. 

They played for over an hour when one pot grew especially large.  Logic and his cards told Kris he should really fold.  The outlaw in him, however, thought, with the right strategy, he might steal the fifteen or so gold sitting in the middle of the table.  He increased the bet one more time with undeserved confidence, hoping to force the opponents out.  It worked, at least for two of them.  The Dirk just smiled as he slid in some coins, matching Kris’ bid.  Disappointed, Kris knew he had lost this hand and figured he’d have to watch his coppers for the rest of his stay in Habrycg.

Kris expected nothing as he replaced one card from his hand with a new draw.  Just a red tower. All he could hope for now was that Horzu didn’t raise the . . .  Wait!  A red tower. Kris hadn’t considered this possible combination of cards before now, but now realized his hand had improved greatly.  In fact, the red tower was the only card in the deck that could have given him this result.  Luck again.  With new bravado, he raised the pot one more time.  Horzu simply matched and hands were revealed.  As Kris has suspected, he would have lost had it not been for that draw.

Inner jubilation was quickly replaced by concern.  This is usually when your opponent accuses you of cheating and you either have to do some fast talking or fight your way out.  He kept his eyes on everyone at the table as he slowly gathered the pile of coins to himself. 

“I am very impressed, Mr. Miglward,” Horzu said, as a satisfied look came over his face.  “This has been one of the most enjoyable games I have played in a while.”

“Thank you?” Kris said cautiously.

“Most people I play tend to be timid.  I don’t know if they're concerned about losing too much or if they're just afraid of me.  I hear they call me “The Dirk.” This last bit he said as though he was sharing a deep secret with Kris.  “But not you.  You have a boldness in your play.  You raise when you should fold.  Luck helped you often.  Oh yes,” the halfling said, seeing a look of surprise cross Kris’ face. “I could sense your relief whenever you drew a card you weren’t expecting.  But you always played the next hand with confidence.  You are welcome to join my table as long as you are in town.”

<For the results of Kris’ gambling, I used the gambling table from Medkemia Press’ Cities Book, adjusting for Tunnels & Trolls skills.  I made one roll on the table for the entire day, based on 10 gp. risked.  Adjusted Roll: 92 = Player wins four times their bet. Kris won 40 gp above his initial bet.>

[Scene 4]

Dalen Dimflayer stood by and watched as a large group of young boys and girls ran around in circles playing a game called Tempoopkap. He didn’t know the exact rules, but knew it involved one of the children hiding a coin and the rest somehow trying to figure out who was the thief.  They played in a large grassy commons situated between Habrycg’s Town Council Building and the Great Library.  Apart from a few bushes and some stone benches, the only item of note in the square was a large boulder sitting in front of the Council Building.  What made it unique was the sword hilt sticking out from it. 

Dalen stopped one of the children, an elven girl, as she ran by.

“Gather everyone and bring them to the sword in the stone,” he told her.  “I have a story to tell ‘em.”

<Chances are good that Dalen is familiar with the city, its history and lore.  L1 INT SR 4,1+15=20.  He is.>

The girl gave Dalen a funny look, but he just waved her off to do her task and saundered over to the distinctive marker.

At first, her playmates seemed to dismiss the young lass.  But seeing the dwarf standing by the stone caused a few to become curious.  At first, only a couple of the children wandered over to see what this dwarf was all about.  Then a few more.  And a few more.  Eventually, Dalen had attracted an audience of fifteen.

Sword Hilt Sticking Out From It

“Do any of you know the story about this here sword?” Dalen asked.

About half of those gathered raised their hands.

“Aye, but do you know the whole story?”

Many of those who originally raised their hands lowered them slowly.  Whether they knew the “whole” story or not, they didn’t want to claim they did, then be quizzed and not know the answer.

<Does any city official object to Dalen’s public storytelling? (Unlikely) No, and . . .  + Event: Vengeance/Plans>

The dwarf launched into his story.  He told the tale of Dioquiss Habrycg who, nearly a century ago, led a tribe of his people on a quest for a new home.  Guided by the god Pokpu’naap, they wandered throughout the lands of Barisea.  The only hint to where they were going could be found in an obscure prophecy.  According to it, wherever the “traveler” drove his sword into a stone, that was where he and those with him would thrive.  Many time Dioquiss and his tribe camped in a place worthy to be their home. However, when he attempted the test, his sword would slide across the stone’s surface, leaving nothing but a faint scratch. Their wandering continued for nearly forty years.  The people begged Dioquiss to take them home, grumbling that he was only leading them to their death. But the god Pokpu’naap only chided them, accusign them of a weak faith and that returning home would only mean destruction. 

Eventually, Dioquiss and his tribe came to this very stone (Dalen rested his palm upon the stone next to him).  The adventurer lifted his sword, as he had done numerous times before.  But unlike those other times, the tip pierced the boulder and the blade sunk into the great rock.  They found their home and built their first hut upon that site.  Over the years, that small hut grew and was rebuilt time and time again, until eventually it became the site of the current Town Council Building.

Dalen had no idea if the stone he stood next to was the original stone Dioquiss sunk his sword into or just a recreated monument to mark the location. It was even possible the whole story was just a legend, devoid of any true facts. But none of that mattered to the children seated around, listening to his tale. They were raptured by his words, as were the many adults who stopped to listen to his retelling. Dalen’s inner storyteller was satisfied with a tale well told.

“I’m impressed. You know our city’s history rather well.”

Dalen turned to the voice to see it belonged to a grey-haired man dressed in a plain brown robe.  The man gave Dalen a friendly smile.

“Thank you,” Dalen said.  “It’s great to see the youth entertained while learning something as well.”

“I am Marin,” the man introduced himself.  “I am the priest of the local Church of Pokpu’naap.”

“Pokpu’naap?  I didn’t realize he was still worshipped.”

“Surely, as you just related, this town was founded based on Pokpu’naap’s guidance. Why would you assume he was no longer worshipped?”

“Sorry for my ignorance,” Dalen apologized.  “I had thought Pokpu’naap worship would have been absorbed by the Church of Moro.  That Pokpu’naap was merely an earlier manifestation of the current god.”

Marin chuckled softly, amused at the dwarf’s words.  “No.  Pokpu’napp is clearly not Moro.  But you are not entirely wrong.  Worship has diminished over time, the newer religions being much more popular.”  He spat this last word with mild distaste. “It’s a shame that the people have forsaken who brought them here.  Which is why I came to speak with you

“As I implied, the church is small.  Only around one hundred congregants. We want to raise awareness, especially with Pik only a couple of weeks away.  So we are holding a public worship meeting <d3: 3rd day in town> two nights from today.  I was hoping you would be willing to share this same story at that meeting.  It might spark some interest among the crowd.”

Dalen did some quick figuring in his head.  If Sylralei stuck to her schedule, they weren’t planning to leave until the morning after the meeting.  Always willing to spin a yarn and having nothing better to do, Dalen agreed, but not before warning Marin that his travel plans might change.  While the two finalized the arrangements, Dalen couldn’t help but wonder if there might be an offering collected, and if he would be offered a share.

[Scene 6]

As the light dimmed outside The Fox and Dragon, Kris, Nen, and Dalen met in the inn’s dining hall for a dinner of unique offerings.  Dalen was the only one willing to try to liver sausage crusted pie Corette told them about that morning.  Kris opted for a thick mupmek steak, garnished with vegetables he had never seen nor heard of before.  Nen went simple, with a bowl of stew.  Kris paid for everyone, along with a nice bottle of wine, thanks to his earlier winnings. <Deducted 4 gp.>

The three ate, drank, and shared tales of their adventures in the city.  There was one question, however, that hung over the group.  Where was Sylralei?

[Scene 5]

Dirt.  Grime. Stench. Now that they were in the city, none of this would do for Sylralei. Her first order of business was to clean up.  Down in the meeting room, Syl found Corette and asked if she had a tub she could use. <(Unlikely) No, but . . .> She didn’t, but she did have a cousin, Janelle, who lived a couple of streets over with whom she had an arrangement for such services. Corvette handed Syl a note covered with strange symbols, telling her to show it to Janelle and she would take care of her.

Syl easily found the house, and as Janelle warmed water for the bath over the fire, the elf casually wandered through the living area of the home. Glancing in an open door, she noticed a small room with three torso mannequins and a sewing table.  Two of the mannequins held dresses: one white, one red.  A third garment of deep blue was in process, lying on the table.

“Are you a dressmaker?” Syl called out. 

“Yes,” Janelle answered.  “I know a woman who owns a shop in the nobel’s quarter. She sells them for a cut.  Her take is reasonable, though.”

Sylralei approached the red dress for a better look.  It was long and elegant with sleeves that would cover the arms to the wrists.  Each sleeve was woven with intricate lacework, as was the bodice down to the waistline.  The rear was backless, and the neckline dropped low, a inch or two more than what Syl would have expected to see a modest woman wear.

“You are very good.  Have you thought about opening your own shop.”

“Oh no,” Janelle admitted quickly.  “I can’t sew enough to keep it stocked.  Besides, the dresses are too expensive for the women around here, and I couldn’t possibly afford a space in the nobel quarter. Your bath is ready, Sylralei.”

“I’ll take the red one,” Syl said, removing her cloak. “Is two gold enough?”

Janelle’s jaw dropped in surprise.  “Two?  I expect that dress is worth barely more than only one gold.”

“It’s worth it,” Syl assured her.  “Believe me. And this is a sale you can keep all to yourself.  Do you know a good tanner who can clean up these leathers?  I need them by tomorrow morning.  And after my bath, I will need a carriage. Five gold should cover all that and leave a little extra for you. Don’t you think?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”  Janelle responded excitedly.  She led Syl to the tub and helped her remove the mud encrusted blue leathers.  Gathering everything up, she rushed out the door to take care of the errands while the wizardess slid down into the warm tub, closed her eyes, and relaxed.

[Scene 6]

After her bath, it was still too early for a “night out.” To pass the time, Syl laid down in a guest bedroom and napped for several hours.  She welcomed the straw bed, especially after sleeping on the ground for the past week. Janelle had returned home while Syl was asleep and waited until she awoke to tell her that her other clothes would be ready by noon the next day and that arrangements were made for a carriage to pick her up when she was ready. 

The dress fit Sylralei nearly perfectly.  Running her hands down the sides, the elf admired the feel of the fabric as it hugged her waist and hips.  A long mirror revealed the faint silhouette of her legs through the flowing dress.  They were too dark to see any detail, but a woman who knew how to use the light could easily capture any man’s attention.  Syl appreciated this naughty side  of Janelle’s work, especially considering her plans for the evening.

Yet, it was for this reason Syl was thankful to be leaving from the dressmaker’s home instead of the inn.  She preferred not having Kristopher see her leave like this.  If Kelseen saw her, she would glare in judgement. Syl could handle that.  Kris, however, would frown in simple disappointment borne out of respect, which somehow felt worse.  He barely knew her, yet he treated her like someone of worth, not a shamed elf running from her past and using anyone to get what she needed. She had never known an outlaw to be such a gentleman.

But whatever Kris wanted to believe, that was not her. She was sure of it.

The carriage dropped Sylralei off outside The Scout’s Bush. Despite its poorly thought-out name <thanks d30 Companion> and the engraving on its sign showing a young lad peering over a bit of shrubbery, the establishment was one of the most prestigious taverns in Haybrcg. Syl visited it often during her previous stay in the city, shortly after her exodus from Cyenannore. She was a bit hazy on how to get to it from The Fox, but Janelle was able to give her directions while making adjustments to the dress. <Syl failed her L2 Luck SR to remember where the Scout’s Bush was located by only one point, so I decided she knew about this specific place, but needed some help getting there.>

She was just about to step inside when a rough hand took hold of her arm. She looked up to see the stern face of an urook pulling her back from the doorway.

“Not allowed!” the urook told her.  “Leave.”

Syl did not remember the Bush having a doorman the last time she was here.  “You speak good common for an urook,” she . . . flirted? “It’s okay.  Viktor is waiting for me inside,” she lied. “I’m sure he told you.” <L2 CHA SR to get in: 1,3=4 Auto Fail>

The urook stepped in front of her as she tried for the door again.  “I not know you!  Unless with someone I know, you leave!”

Starting to get annoyed, Syl slipped her hand in the folds of her dress to retrieve a few coins from her pouch.  Before she could pull them out, however, an arm reached around her waist.

“It’s okay, Brukk.  The young lady is with me.”

Syl turned to see a handsome, well-dressed elf with black hair.  He wore a rather unique brown jacket. The right side ended just below the waist.  The left side, however, reached down to just past the calf, hiding the leg.  This unusual extension was pleated like a dress.  Syl recognized this jacket as a Soom, a garment unique to Habrycg, bestowed upon leaders of business, politics, education, and other notable professions or interests.

“Shall we?” the stranger asked, motioning to the door.

“Of course,” Syl answered.  “I began to think you would never arrive.”

<Before Sylralei attempted the bribe, I made an oracle check to see if someone might invite her in as their “guest?” (Unlikely) Yes, but . . .  While it’s unlikely Syl knows this person, she has been to the city before, so I’ll give her a chance.  L3 LCK SR (target 30): 4,2 +17 = 23 Fail
Using the Cities Aristocrat Table, I determined he was Gentleman, Lord.  Even/Odd for human or elf: Elf.>

“Thank you,” Syl said once they were inside.  “I was afraid I would have to give that ogre half my coin before he would let me in.”

The stranger laughed.  “Brukk take a bribe?  Never.  They pay him more than enough to guard our privacy.”

“In that case, again, I thank you.”

“Oh, it’ll cost you.” <the “but” rolled above>

“Cost me what?”

“A drink.”

“Aren’t you supposed to buy me a drink?”

“I can tell Brukk that I was mistaken.”

“Do you like ale, or would you prefer something stiffer?”

<For the upcoming conversation between the two of them, I rolled on UNE’s NPC Interaction Emulator. Unfortunately, I got “The friendly Lord speaks of comfort regarding the current story.”  Basically, it confirmed what I already established for Syl’s reason for being here.

I needed some sort of catalyst to start an adventure in Haybrcg, or else all the setup from the mapping game might go to waste.  I quickly made up a d6 table, creating seeds based on the lore determined in the game.  The result was that the gentleman was a supporter of the minority side of the town council.  Is he 1: the minority councilman, 2-3: a close friend of the minority councilman, 4-7: Not close, but a very involved supporter, or 8-10: in favor of, but not directly involved in any way.  Roll: Not close, but very involved.>

[Scene 7]

Over drinks, Syl learned the gentleman’s name was Crafir and, fittingly, he oversaw a number of the businesses in the crafting trade.  Just under half of the woodworkers and masons responsible for construction throughout the city were under his supervision.  After the first drink, Crafir graciously took over, buying the next round, as well their dinner.

“This is an unusual meat,” Syl said, savoring a morsel from her plate.

“It’s mantat. It’s an animal about this big.” Crafir held his hands a little more than a foot apart. “They hunt it along the banks of the Pass river.  It’s considered a delicacy.”

Syl took another satisfying bite. 

“More wine,” Crafir offered.

“Construction must be good for you,” Syl said, the wine he poured costing more than a commoner would make in a year.

“It does well,” he agreed. “Better now that Arndell is on the council. Hopefully things can get even better.”

Syl continued to chew as she raised her eyebrows, silently asking her companion to expound.

“For years the council members were very unfavorable to many of the businesses in Haybrcg.  To be more precise, they weren’t favorable unless they held a share in your business.  They didn’t completely shut down other businesses or block craftsmen from jobs.  They couldn’t unless they wanted a backlog in construction or an economic collapse.  But the best and highest paying work went to those who supported them.  They even convinced the wealthiest citizens somehow to shop primarily at certain vendors. People complained, but they could never seem to get them voted off the council.”

“I thought one council member was voted off every year,” Syl asked, recalling what politics she remembered of the place.  “It was some odd system.  Instead of voting someone to take the place of a leaving member, the citizens voted which council person they wanted to get rid of.”

“You’re talking about the Pik. The election that is only a couple of weeks away.  You're right. Every year one member is voted off.  What I meant was that their replacements were always sympathetic to their cause.  No one who felt differently would be put on the council, despite the city's growing opposition.”

“Sounds like someone was controlling who the replacements were,” Syl suggested the obvious.  “But I never figured that out.  If the people vote off a council member, who chooses the new one?”

“The people do.  Throughout the year, citizens vote at the Council Building for who they think should sit on the council next.  They can choose anyone, and as their minds change, their vote can as well. Up to once a month.”

Enthralled by the conversation, Syl had all but forgotten about her food.  “Sounds like it can very easily be manipulated.”

“True,” Crafir agreed. “But we have safeguards.  See this coin.”  He placed a round metal disk, approximately one inch in diameter, on the table.  The face of the coin was etched with a complex series of figures and several characters. “Everyone who is qualified to vote gets one, and every coin is unique to its owner.  You have to present it to vote, and the clerk makes an impression next to your vote as proof that the vote was made and belongs to you.  Keeps others from making a vote in your name and keeps you from voting more often than you are allowed.

“At least, that’s how it's supposed to work. But like you said, many of us suspect the council was somehow manipulating the votes to make sure their preferred citizen always was named to the council.”

“So what changed?” Syl asked.  “How did they lose the seat?”

“To be honest, I don’t know,” the dark-haired elf admitted.  “There were rumors.  Some said evidence was found of vote tampering, but to keep it quiet, the board agreed not to challenge Arndell’s election.  Others claim that those closest to Arndell figured out a way to alter the votes themselves.  However it was done, the old guard’s grip on the council was broken and things are starting to ease up on business owners.”

“So everything’s fixed then,” Syl said, taking another sip of wine and returning to her food.

“Not quite,” Crafir warned. “The Pik is in a couple of weeks and the majority can win their chair back.  But that’s not all.  I fear they might have a hold on the Tot market.”

“The metal?” Syl asked.  She had only seen a few pieces of Tot jewelry in her life and heard they were more valuable than gold or silver.

“Yes.  It comes from ore found in Lake Netnuup, just west of the city. The full name is Netnuup’s Tot.  The fact that the lake is its only source makes it valuable, as is.  But recently the Toknik has returned.”

“The what?”

“Toknik.  It’s some sea creature . . . or lake creature.  It’s supposed to be a swimming lizard with a long neck, something like that.  Legend says it has lived in Lake Netnuup since before time was recorded, but it hasn’t been seen for hundreds of years.  Now suddenly, for some reason, it’s back and guarding the ore.  Mining, which was already difficult being on the bottom of the lake, is now even more dangerous.  You would think the result would be an increase in the value of Netnuup’s Tok. Not so.  Proceeds from the sale of the precious metal are the same as always.”

“So what do you think is happening?,” Syl asked.

“I think the council, at least the majority members, have their hands in the Tok mining industry and are somehow keeping the profits for themselves. But I’m sure you didn’t come here all dressed up to talk stuffy old politics.” Crafir took a sip of his wine before letting his eyes wander down his companion’s body.  “I must say, Syl. You look exquisite in that dress.”

The wizardess’ lips turned up in a seductive smile. “I think what you meant to say was ‘you would look exquisite outside of that dress.’”

Crafir gave a look of surrender. “Why don’t we finish up and go somewhere more comfortable.  I know a fine inn nearby.”

“Inn? Why don’t we go to your house?”

“I think the inn’s a better choice.”

“Married?” Sly cast him a knowing smile. <(50/50) Yes>

“Well, the inn does have goose down beds.”

“That does sound much more comfortable,” Syl agreed conspiratorially.

<Interested in learning why this chapter was particularly difficult to play, or want to discover some of the story secrets that are happening “behing-the-page?” Join my patreon at the Appreciation Tier and also get early access to my next Solo T.O.O.T. video.>

(Read the next chapter here.)

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Deuteronomy 11:18-21

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Imagesource:  Dwarf (Alen Rocha, Artstation); Sword (Neil Owen, CC)