
The tent wasn't there the day before. It would be somewhere else by the next day. No magic at work though, just a set up easy to assemble and dismantle for a veteran crew. They had come at dawn to set up the poles, spread the flysheet, put together the planks and the sawhorses to make the tables, spread the folding stools. And finally, from the only one of their transport chests closed with an actual lock, they had pulled and put on display their treasure: A dozen of sets of chess pieces, chess boards, chess clocks.
The Sigil Chess Club was now in session.
Cynical people might point there was certainly more than one chess club in Sigil, and that this one was not really the most prestigious. But it was most certainly the most open, allowing anyone to come at any time to pick a game or a couple.
The club lived in a state of perpetual chaos, rarely two days in a row at the same spot to deal with the either changing value of spots in the ward, relying on donations to pay for its materials, and on the good will of volunteers to get anything done. Somehow, it still worked good enough most of the time.
Today was no exception, and Dare found herself sitting at one of the tables, reviewing a few standard openings while waiting for the next person looking for a game.
To her left, the Club President, an old goblin of an original mind even by goblin standard, was being completely obliterated by an orc young enough to be smaller than him. To her right, money had apparently been bet on the outcome of the game, tension was rising, and cheating suspected.
All in all, a pretty ordinary day by that club's standards.
Art source:
https://www.svgrepo.com/svg/484626/chess-piece + https://www.svgrepo.com/svg/354455/torus
