The Vicar's Adjudicator travels from town to town, but never actually enters, avoiding even the smallest cluster of two or three homes. He can be found camped by the main roads of entry, within sight of the city gates or along the outskirts of less formal villages. He hangs chimes to announce his presence and availability. He pitches his sword into the earth and uses its special hilt as the arm of a balance. He suspends two trays from this scale, into which petitioners are to place one of their own teeth. Against this, he weighs out a measure of consecrated sand until the weights are balanced. The petitioner may then speak at length about whatever comes to mind: family, work, friends, enemies, confessions, memories, hopes. Whenever a lie is uttered the tooth grows heavier. The Adjudicator converses with the petitioner, asking questions, prompting full disclosure and acting as a confidante. As more of the matter is revealed, the tooth grows lighter.

These sessions may be conducted in public or in private, but are considered sacred; none may interfere with the proceedings without violent reprisal. This includes interruptions not only by outside interference, but also by any petitioners who want to leave before the session is complete.

The scale tips either way until the heavier item is toppled. If the sands should fall first, the petitioner has said enough and the issue is considered closed. There is no way to predict how long this will take, it could be moments or days. For trivial issues this may happen in seconds. However, the Adjudicator will sit with any petitioner patiently until the matter is finished.

The Adjudicator is not a police representative and, as a result, guilty criminals may confess to him privately without fear of prosecution. He does not judge, he merely questions the petitioner and enforces the verdict of the balance. All that is required is absolute, honest disclosure. Occasionally, bold couples will marry in his presence. Each pledges their vows, hopes, doubts, deeds and desires to each other for the price of teeth saved from childhood for this purpose. Though what is revealed might not be wholly positive, marriages before the Adjudicator are profoundly intimate ceremonies and considered particularly binding. Loves declared are then known without question, as are all the faults and flaws. Indecisive petitioners faced with a crisis or dilemma can sit before the Adjudicator to gain help in learning what they truly feel, want and believe. He does not condone nor forgive criminals, bless marriages, or otherwise morally judge any of what is told to him. He does, however, require veracity; lies of any form will tilt the scale to some degree, and lies to ones' self weigh the tooth down quite heavily.

Should the tooth fall first, the sword is drawn from the earth and used to slay the liar, on the spot.

Tales of the Vicar's Adjudicator range from the cautionary to the humorous. In the best-realized Adjudicator story, commonly known as The Slow Noose, a convicted thief, facing death by hanging manages to slip his captors. He does not get far before they give chase, certain to recapture him. He stumbles across the Adjudicator who is resting beneath a tree. In desperation, the thief dashes out one of his own teeth with a stone. He sits before his confessor just as the posse arrives and he begins to talk about his sorry life. The novel proceeds to describe the next three days of conversation, recollection and flashback. At various points the Adjudicator asserts his authority over the restless lawmen, defending the sanctity of the proceedings and so on. By the end, the thief has grown as a person, uncovered the meaning to his life, and seen the error of his ways. He comes to view the Adjudicator as his sole friend. However, as soon as the sands finally fall and the waiting law moves in: he is hung kicking from the same tree while the Adjudicator watches passively.

Other tales are not so grim. Intended as joking anecdotes for adults, there are stories of children losing their first teeth and "squandering" them on silly conversations. These follow a specific format of give-and-take involving the listener, similar to "knock-knock" jokes. Additionally, the casual invocation, "Here's my tooth," and the traditional reply, "Tell me your troubles," indicates that the initial speaker has something important but private to say, wishes to vent about a heated topic, or is about to gossip.