Boar's Hat Tavern Novels & Stories

“Think on it. I give you much coin. I give many men much coin. But where does it all end up?” “Back in the alehouses…soon as we dock.” “My coin is returned…Over and over again.” “Ye clever bastar’!” Boy shook his head bemusedly. “Why you think I’m always drinking in them?” Bast chuckled. “See how they’re ran, what employees are doing there, how my tavern keepers are faring, and if their prices are reasonable…As well as the cleanliness of the facilities…” Boy stared at him wide-eyed, shaking his head as he repeated. “Clever bastar’…

Erwaith suggested. “Oh, what is that?” Myllyof asked, looking a bit tipsy himself. “It is a small inn called the Red Boar.” “That sounds wonderful. How far is it?” “It’s around the block and up two more streets. Why, do I need to carry you?” “No…no…I’m just a little tired. That’s all…I swear.” Myllyof began to drift off as he spoke. “It’s time to get him to a bed,” Jullious said.

Herne's tone seemed off for some reason, and Warren could not pinpoint why. "Not to be a wet blanket, but you'll probably need more than a drunk to get this thing to reveal itself in public." Cory reminded them. "Where hasn't he been?" Theria asked. Cory stared at the map and pointed to a lonely building, "The drunkest of the drunk go there, to the Big Chief bar and grill, where it's five o clock all the time." "Do you know the owner, and does he allow dogs in his bar?" "Cory held up a gold chip, ten years sober. Lots of ner do wells in that place. I think one of the patrons was up on a rape charge three years ago. After I got sober, Max, the bartender, refused to pour me another."

He took the hat around the bar and flung it out the back door. Once as a boy he had carried slops in a restaurant in New Orleans that actually used tablecloths, a standard of excellence which haunted him still. Every time he looked at the bare tables in the Dry Bean he felt a failure. Instead of having tablecloths, the tables were so rough you could get a splinter just running your hand over them. Also, they weren’t attractively round, since the cowboys could not be prevented from whittling on their

“We found that the day before Wilhem, the head of the black market in the North Border branch, passed away, he met someone from the Mabry family in Hattan. That person was the son of the Mabry family…” Dustin frowned. The Mabry family in Hattan… … Euphoria Lounge, located in the bustling heart of Hattan, was the biggest and most upscale bar and dance club in the city. At 8 p.m., Dustin arrived alone. He walked straight into the bar and sat at the counter. “Give me the strongest drink you have,” Dustin said indifferently. The bartender raised his eyebrows before he smiled. He poured Dustin a glass of unnamed liquor. Dustin picked it up and downed it in one go. The strong liquor burnt his thro

From his nose Boro took in the smells of food being cooked, bacon, eggs, and other rich scents filled his nostrils. Boro strode over to the bar, where several nearby lords eyed him and his sword and made disdainful faces. Boro tried to walk with confidence but the eyes on his back made him stubble from the foot of a chair. Face reddening, he straightened himself up and walked the last couple steps to the bar. "One mug of ale if you please," Boro said to the large woman wiping clean a glass mug. He dropped a few copper royals onto the counter top. " And a plate of whatever that delicious smell is as well"

His brow is permanently furrowed, and his eyes carry the cold, calculating stare of someone who has broken up more tavern brawls than he can remember. The barkeep’s jaw is clenched tightly as he wipes the countertop with a rag that looks scarcely cleaner than the surface itself. The motion is slow, practiced and absent minded. Behind him, selves packed with dusty bottles, ceramic jugs and cloudy glass flasks disappear into the shadows. The rest of the tavern is crowded with rough looking patrons hunched over wooden tabled. Most wore worn cloaks, patched leather jerkins, faded tunics and heavy traveling boots crusted with dried mud. Many of them sport thick, unkept bears and weathered faces e

I thanked him, and as soon as I stepped inside, I was hit by the greasy aroma deep-fried food. The bar had a small-town tavern vibe. The furniture was all heavy-looking wood in dark cherry that matched the bar sprawled across the back wall. A giant mural of a wolf’s head hung in the middle of the bar and was flanked by shelves on either side loaded down with bottles of liquor. It was busy as hell. Almost every table was taken, and every stool at the bar was occupied, save one at the very end. I looked around for the man I was supposed to meet.

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.

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.