These two modern-day Chronsylvanians live in the bustling metropolis of Chronstantinople. They walked into a coffee shop on a whim, and wound up as a captive audience to a story that just might go on forever. Not that both of them are equally upset about this fact.

The Fox believes most, if not quite all, of the Balladeer’s story. At the very least, she is willing to listen to what the Balladeer has to say about these strange events that supposedly happened thousands of years ago. She believes the Balladeer’s claim that he is a member of the Guild of Time Management, a mythical group of arcane practitioners that, according to the old stories, have the ability to manipulate the flow of time.

The Dog, on the other hand, isn’t buying what the Balladeer is selling. The Guild of Time Management isn’t real, and neither is the Tree of Time. Sure, everyone knows that time gets a little wonky in Chronsylvania (loop quakes, hurrquickanes, and the occasional slowstorm are certainly regular occurrences), but no one can control these things anymore than they can control the weather. Right? Right!?