Classic Fantasy Strange and Sunless
The setting is awe-inspiring rift involving exquisite spear and charming rooftop. Your quest is to convince the halfling citizen at the insignificant settlement. Trying to stop you is the gargantuan skilled in spell craft. You are currently at the sprawling grotto.

The Reef. The elves settled, the humans moved in, and we all multiplied. And so it is. Do I see a township nearby?


I wander over, holding an open palm to signify my intent to rest. How does the township look?

Fiercely / Ruined.

It must be one of the first of them, then. Strange, seeing how far into the Reef I am. How about the soldiers?

Usurp / Fame.

I don't blame them. Long periods of time without the seeing the sun would make anybody restless. I approach the more kindly looking of the two, which is saying a lot. I ask him if there's an inn here.


Perfect. I nod my thanks, and the iron sign overhead tells me I am entering Telgor. What time of day have I arrived?

7 = 7[d24]

Early morning. Not that anyone can tell down here, but schedules will keep for a long time. I see a bunch of folks fishing in nearby pools; there is probably no shortage of gatherers hunting for fungi... But the inn is what I'm here for, at least for now. Do I have enough money for a night?


Underestimated again. One of life's many little troubles. I ask the innkeep if I would be able to work off my stay.


A living is made with millions of tiny scratches. I get it. I thank the innkeep and exit. I need some gold. What kind of gear do I have?

Adversity / Dispute.

The tools of war. I was always useful to have around when the job involved killing someone. I took this job to get away from that though. I glance back at the fishing pools. Anyone having a trouble of a time getting anything?

No, and...

Not only is the township old, but the people must have been here for at least three generations if I judge the piles of catch correctly. They know what they're doing. I need to be creative. Townships usually have a hollowed, sculpted square reserved for leisure and, if we're honest, the elderly. It's early, but I head to Telgor's square and find a few of them gambling in a circle. How do they take the young newcomer?

Mistrust / Danger.

It could be that my skin has a touch more color than theirs, but maybe they'll change their minds when I put some coin down on the table. I hear a grunt that makes some space for me in the circle, and that's good enough for me. A little observation tells me that the game is an old favorite: Royal's Ace. Draw cards and get as close as you can to one and twenty without going over — faces are worth ten and singles eleven. I cross my fingers.

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Four and ten. It's a risky move to tease royalty with something that high, but I scratch the rock with hopes that tonight Luck will be my lady.

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I can barely believe it when I hear the circle groan with disappointment — more so because I was closing my eyes the whole time I drew my last card, but no one needed to know that. I throw a silent prayer of thanks up to whoever would listen and collected my winnings. Hopefully I have enough to secure a room — and a chance at my target.


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