As the hour of noon approaches, the rutted highway of khaki-coloured earth rises gently towards a flat-topped house near the horizon. Outside, at the entrance, is a three-legged stand erected over a fire made of ghorkas’ dung. A battered tin pot full of soup hangs from the crotch of the stand, and a group of farm hands stand in line waiting for the muddy liquid to boil. The smell of the fire is awful, and it has to be blown on ceaselessly to prevent it from going out. Close to the house is a dirt track, which branches off the main highway and disappears to the west. A signpost, its wood cracked and twisted, points along the track. It reads:
If you have the Magnakai Discipline of Pathsmanship, turn to 96.
If you wish to follow the track, turn to 187.
If you wish to question the farm hands, turn to 252.
If you decide to continue along the highway, turn to 318.