The village of Yesterday began as so many boomtowns do. A modest river looped near the Wood Road, and so travellers began to stop and rest on their way, walking off the road for an evening apart from the mercantile bustle with the assurance of fresh water. Temporary buildings were erected, using lumber carted from the forest to the west. As those hovels traded hands between merchants, gold-grey clay was dredged from the river and baked into pale grey bricks, and sturdy housing was built. Over years of boom and bust, a settlement resembling a village bloomed and fell into disrepair until Yesterday grew large enough to support a resident population. The Wood Road was made the town’s Main Street, and shops and houses sprouted up like weeds. Its houses were short and uneven, each topped with heavy thatched rooftops woven and rewoven from the nearby grain fields.

As a peaceful town that marked the Lilon and Tria border, Yesterday prospered and declined in season with the merchants and militias that passed through its gates. With the recent unrest between the four kingdoms, Tria’s royal family was spending much of their energy on displays of force, marching soldiers north toward the Talif mountain range that marked the border with Northcar; these and more inevitably traipsed across the town’s cobbles on their way. Even though Yesterday was relatively far south, the town hosted a steady stream of soldiers heading north to the Great Gate. Between the influx of soldiers eager to spend their coins and merchants heading east and west along the Wood Road, Yesterday was growing beyond a comfortable, if quaint, hamlet.

Still, it was not without complications that the five found lodging. With a barracks’ worth of soldiers monopolizing both of Yesterday’s inns, the group was obligated to share a single room at the Cracked Chuck, a dingy tavern looking over the pond at the north edge of the town.

“Nothing for it,” the barman said as he polished a splitting tankard with a grimy rag. Charles, proprietor and barman of the Cracked Chuck, was a portly man well into mid-age. When his hair began to thin, he’d made the decision to keep it clean-shaven in efforts to appear more professional, though whether his attempt succeeded was debatable. His apron was stained, as was the scraggly beard he had been cultivating for years, with similar mixed success.

“Five of you, so ten coin to hole up in the private room. I guarantee its lock is clean steel and strong. You’re welcome to sleep in the open room on the second floor, if you’d prefer, only a coin for each of you as long as you stay, but I’ve only so many rooms, and I need to keep the other two open for quickies.” He leaned over the bar and gave the group a painfully obvious wink. “Maria should be in by nightfall. Tara’ll be sitting by the hearth before last bell.”

“Have you been practicing that wink?” Poppy asked.

The barman puffed up. “That I have. Thank you kindly for noticing.”

“It needs work.”

“Oh.” The barman’s brow crinkled as he looked down Poppy then outside his front window to where she’d hitched Lawrence. “Is that pig for sale?”

“He’s not to be touched, unless you’d like cuts to match the ones on his hide.”

“Ah. No need for threats, miss, I run a proper house here.”

There was an awkward silence before Mother Brandy stepped up and sat at the bar. “What kegs do you have open and ready to spill?”

The barman turned to Brandy with a smile and began running down the sparse list of ales and spirits available. Theo sat beside her, his eyes unfocused, while the rest lugged their sacks up the narrow flight of stairs to the Cracked Chuck’s second floor.

Their room was a flop in the truest sense. The ceiling was low and slanted, bare timbers under the thatched roof above. There was a single cot at the room’s back, and that took up a third of the room’s space.

“This’ll be a tight fit, eh?” Slayter dumped his bag of books on the cot and looked around.

Finde nodded. “True, but it will be good to rest under a roof for a change. Perhaps the militia will be on their way tomorrow, and we can find more appropriate lodging.”

“Is there a reason why you wanted to stay in town?” Poppy added her sack of books and charred meat to the cot. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much to see here.”

“True,” Finde said, giving a slow nod, ”but a few days to rest and recover will allow me to decide what to do with all these.” She sat at the cot’s foot and began removing the books from their burlap homes.

Slayter folded his arms and leaned against the door frame. “No chance of a nap then?”

“I believe I saw a pond beside the tavern as we made our way in.” Finde didn’t look up from her sorting. “Go nap there.”

Slayter frowned as Poppy chuckled. She tugged at his arm. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go get a drink with the others.” She turned back to Finde. “We’ll let Brandy and Theo know we’ll be here for a few days. Do you want anything sent up?”

“No. Thank you.”

“Alright.” Poppy tapped Slayter and pulled him back down the narrow staircase. “Come, paladin. Let’s see if your halfbreed ass can outdrink a halfling.”

Slayter’s cheeks burned. He looked like he might lunge for his comrade, but decided better of it, gave a hearty chortle, and decided a drink was indeed in order.

“A wiser game I haven’t heard,” he said, following Poppy back to the bar where Theo and Brandy sat, each already a mug deep.