your story and returns the Invitation. ‘Stay on the highway and make sure you reach Tahou by sunset,’ he says, as he signals to his troop to let you pass. ‘Enemy scouts have been sighted in the hills south of the capital. If you're not inside the city walls by nightfall … ’ He draws his finger quickly across his throat.
You thank him for his advice and watch as he and his troop wheel away and ride south. You pocket the Invitation and glance apprehensively at Banedon before pressing on with your own journey north.
Turn to 213 .
142
The courthouse of the Chief Magistrate is a grim, grey building. Devoid of any decoration or embellishment, its stark bare walls serve to remind the Tahouese of its sober purpose. It is a place where justice is meted out to wrongdoers. Harsh punishments are imposed: floggings and executions take place here every day of the week. All trials are conducted before a magistrate, and his decision is final as there are no juries in Tahou. The Chief Magistrate presides over crimes that are serious enough to warrant the death penalty, and your heart sinks when you learn that he is to sit in judgement of you.
You put up quite a struggle, but your shackles prevent you from breaking free of your armed escort. They drag you into the courtroom and throw you face down into an iron cage that stands before the Chief Magistrate's chair. A bell is struck to signal the arrival of the Chief Magistrate and he enters the court surrounded by an entourage of scribes. The bell rings once more and the scribes say with one voice, ‘This hearing is now in session.’
If you have ever visited the city of Varetta or a hut on the Ruanon Pike in a previous
Lone Wolf
adventure, turn to 294 .
If you have never visited either of these places, turn to 54 .
145
The afternoon passes swiftly as you ride across endless miles of treeless grassland. You stumble upon no village or hamlet and spend the hours listening to Banedon's account of recent events in Sommerlund and the Lastlands. Three years have passed since you were last in the land of your birth, and you are hungry to hear all that has transpired since then.
It is an hour past sunset and night is drawing its black cloak around you when you see a flickering red light on the road ahead: it is the village of Chadi. A great fire roars in the hearth of Guyuk's Tavern in Chadi, inviting the travel-sore to stop and warm their weary bones. You decide to stay overnight and, as soon as you have stabled your horses, you enter the tavern to ask the price of a room. The taproom is surprisingly quiet. It is full of villagers and farmers but they are a sullen crowd, content to sit in silence and brood over their glasses of lovka, a strong Slovian rye spirit named after the town where it was first distilled.
Guyuk, the tavern owner, greets you with a nervous nod of his shiny bald head and shows you to a table. There are no bars or counters in Anarian taverns; instead, the customers sit at long banqueting tables and wait for the owner and his staff to serve them. He smiles uneasily as he answers your enquiry about a room. ‘A single room with a bed would be twelve Lune each.’
If you have enough money to pay for a room (twelve Lune equals three Gold Crowns), do so and turn to 34 .
If you do not have sufficient Lune or Gold Crowns to pay for a room, turn to 132 .
146
Soon you arrive at a part of the city that Banedon remembers well. It borders a large public garden called the Rainbow Park, so named because of the vast number of rare and colourful flowers that grow there. The park is now an encampment for those who have answered the President's desperate call for defenders. Survivors from the towns of Resa and Zila have joined forces with green-clad Daroga woodsmen, tough hill-dwellers from the Chah mountain valley, and river-folk from the Churdas, forming regiments to reinforce the Tahou garrison. Their battle-stained banners, lit by the flickering glow of a hundred
You thank him for his advice and watch as he and his troop wheel away and ride south. You pocket the Invitation and glance apprehensively at Banedon before pressing on with your own journey north.
Turn to 213 .
142
The courthouse of the Chief Magistrate is a grim, grey building. Devoid of any decoration or embellishment, its stark bare walls serve to remind the Tahouese of its sober purpose. It is a place where justice is meted out to wrongdoers. Harsh punishments are imposed: floggings and executions take place here every day of the week. All trials are conducted before a magistrate, and his decision is final as there are no juries in Tahou. The Chief Magistrate presides over crimes that are serious enough to warrant the death penalty, and your heart sinks when you learn that he is to sit in judgement of you.
You put up quite a struggle, but your shackles prevent you from breaking free of your armed escort. They drag you into the courtroom and throw you face down into an iron cage that stands before the Chief Magistrate's chair. A bell is struck to signal the arrival of the Chief Magistrate and he enters the court surrounded by an entourage of scribes. The bell rings once more and the scribes say with one voice, ‘This hearing is now in session.’
If you have ever visited the city of Varetta or a hut on the Ruanon Pike in a previous
Lone Wolf
adventure, turn to 294 .
If you have never visited either of these places, turn to 54 .
145
The afternoon passes swiftly as you ride across endless miles of treeless grassland. You stumble upon no village or hamlet and spend the hours listening to Banedon's account of recent events in Sommerlund and the Lastlands. Three years have passed since you were last in the land of your birth, and you are hungry to hear all that has transpired since then.
It is an hour past sunset and night is drawing its black cloak around you when you see a flickering red light on the road ahead: it is the village of Chadi. A great fire roars in the hearth of Guyuk's Tavern in Chadi, inviting the travel-sore to stop and warm their weary bones. You decide to stay overnight and, as soon as you have stabled your horses, you enter the tavern to ask the price of a room. The taproom is surprisingly quiet. It is full of villagers and farmers but they are a sullen crowd, content to sit in silence and brood over their glasses of lovka, a strong Slovian rye spirit named after the town where it was first distilled.
Guyuk, the tavern owner, greets you with a nervous nod of his shiny bald head and shows you to a table. There are no bars or counters in Anarian taverns; instead, the customers sit at long banqueting tables and wait for the owner and his staff to serve them. He smiles uneasily as he answers your enquiry about a room. ‘A single room with a bed would be twelve Lune each.’
If you have enough money to pay for a room (twelve Lune equals three Gold Crowns), do so and turn to 34 .
If you do not have sufficient Lune or Gold Crowns to pay for a room, turn to 132 .
146
Soon you arrive at a part of the city that Banedon remembers well. It borders a large public garden called the Rainbow Park, so named because of the vast number of rare and colourful flowers that grow there. The park is now an encampment for those who have answered the President's desperate call for defenders. Survivors from the towns of Resa and Zila have joined forces with green-clad Daroga woodsmen, tough hill-dwellers from the Chah mountain valley, and river-folk from the Churdas, forming regiments to reinforce the Tahou garrison. Their battle-stained banners, lit by the flickering glow of a hundred
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