Novelas y relatos de Blackbeard Tavern

IN THE south part of the vast ocean, there is an island inhabited by cursed people. The prince of the Emporium is one of them, sitting on a chair made of stone curved from the stone ground. “Your highness, Captain Black Beard has arrived. He is on his way-in with the pirates and the soldiers from the Desert Biome, City of Gold - Emporium.” One of his armored hollow knight reporting to his prince. “Father Black Beard is here? What is he doing here? He must be on his way on the hive!” The prince was pretty confused.

The dozen or so people who came to collect the tavern belonged to a nearby entertainment center called Black Water. They had some authority over here. They probably used some unknown method to get Mosi Allen, the father of the siblings and the husband of the middle-aged woman, to mortgage the tavern to them. Now that the time was up, they still could not pay the money. Therefore, they came straight to the tavern. David had witnessed many similar instances in the past. It often happened even on Earth, let alone in this place.

Black and scaly with a beak full of jagged sharp teeth. In the distance a child cried, the sound cutting through the bleak night, as the moon shone down on quiet streets. I made my way across town to Sapiens, an old tavern that still operated on the outskirts of Briarshire. An establishment that had been passed down through generations and had even withstood the great Lycan wars from two and a half centuries ago. With my enhanced hearing I could make out the lowly chatter of patrons and the giggles coming from the women who worked there. It was a bar, but it also doubled as a bordello house.

Beverly took it from the back. "You named me Tuna on your phone?" She asked disbelief. "It's cute right?" I asked and my mom smacked my head. "I can't believe you named me Tuna with a fish emo beside it." "You love it." I said and she scoffed. "Beverly, can you company me to sleep in the guest room tonight?" "No!" Clyde said as soon as grandma finished her sentence. "Why is that?" Grandma asked. "Beverl promi-" I shut his mouth by putting my hand on his mouth.

Life was carrying on. “Now where?” said Keezy. He’d taken the shape of a nondescript man in his thirties. I turned to Jenny. “Anything?” She shook her head, her focus more on the transformation she’d just witnessed. I looked around. “There.” I pointed at a tavern with a sign hanging from it. The Pickled Gherkin. It was where we’d spent a lot of time on our last trip here, and it could be just the place to jog a few memories for Jenny. Plus, we could get a drink and packet of complimentary dry roasted. It would be nice to be around people who gave you nuts rather than took them away.

"So… how was last night with the Ice King?" I looked up from my untouched latte as Mason Clarke practically vibrated in the chair opposite me. We were at the Iron Brew Café in Manchester, a place where the scent of roasted beans usually masked the heavy musk of the local pack members who frequented it. Today, even the strongest espresso couldn't hide the scent of my own misery. I had spent the night in the guest wing of the Blackwood Estate, staring at the ceiling until the sun bled through the curtains. Sebastian had left for morning practice at the arena before dawn; I hadn't even heard his car pull away.

he asked over the loud music playing in the bar. "He has a very weird hobby and enjoys such places like this. I've heard that he owns this establishment too, and this place is a costume-themed bar. It appears as a bar on the outside, but there is a large black market running on the inside," Dylan explained as they walked up to the bartender. "Good evening, gents. What would you like to have?" the handsome, blonde bartender greeted with a smile. "We'd have a Blue Ocean with purple bees, room 001 please," Dylan ordered.

Raven Blackwood’s POV: The restaurant owner didn’t come to the dock. My men tried to find him at his address or possible places, but it was like he vanished, or someone made him vanish. So here I was at the underground casino at night, which was hidden beneath an old warehouse near the harbor. From the outside, the building looked abandoned with broken windows and a rusted metal door. Anyone passing by would think it had been empty for years now. But the moment you step inside, everything changes.

Redbayne arrived at Savage's side, outstretching a hand for the vial. Savage grunted and jerked it from reach. Tossing his head toward the Winter Haven Alehouse. Recently built for Savage's little ward. The one he kept in the hut behind the Blue Lark Fortress, in the courtyard. They entered the Alehouse and Redbayne was stunned to see her serving drinks in an oversized green cloak. They told her which drinks they wanted. She walked away, cloak dragging. "Ye're letting 'er in 'ere already?" Redbayne was surprised.

They made more small talk as they made their way to the stalwart bar that had been around far longer than they had, and stepped inside of what felt like a time capsule. The inside was dark as one would expect, small lights dotted here and there over some of the tables and the bar itself. Faux candelabra decorated the walls and provided even more soft ambiance. The smell of the ocean air swept into the open windows, keeping the old, scrubbed pine walls coated in the finest layer of salty brine. The place had always been a tavern and dated back to the early 1800s, with the ghost stories and local lore to show for it, along with the photos - some of them ancient-looking - placed haphazardly bet