Sociable Tavern Novels & Stories

"Come." One tavern came to mind. The Rapier Pub. A giant mural of a rapier sword graffitied onto the side of the building. Not far from the port or Elijah's tailor shop. I frequented it when we came into the dock. Whenever I decided to come ashore, which was rare.

Evanara I walked quickly to the tavern. There was another showcase today and so I could not dance at the Circle. So rather than go back home empty handed, I went to a few inns and danced. I was lucky to get thirty coins and a silver coin. I had sixty more to go and with that,I could get Kevan some new clothes. The Narva Tavern was the biggest and most influential of them all. Peasants were not allowed in the tavern. It was a place high nobles frequented and on rare occasions, the Emperor as well.

“Okay, pick what you want off the menu. I’ll grab you a glass and be right back for your order.” She winked at me and I realized I needed to loosen up a bit more; the wine would help. I also needed to remember I had dreams of being a successful journalist. I needed to tough uncomfortable situations out and grow some balls. I took a sip of water, stiffened my spine, and looked around. More pictures of the local rugby teams lined the walls. Trophies and plaques too. The entire tavern paid homage to rugby. Estella set my wine glass down. “What did you decide, hun?”

Groc had a lot of those at The Wood. Still, it was a perfect representation of the tavern. On the outside, it was riddled with holes in its walls. Scars the length of a man spoke of sword fights where at least one man was more than eager to cut his opponent in half and the dried blood that presented themselves as spatters accompanying most of the marks said a few men had found success in their endeavors. The wooden sign hanging from a metal pole at the entrance had been so weathered and aged that Sethlzaar had been unable to discern what it said. But whatever it was, he believed it to be the name of the tavern. Inside, the tavern was filled with a crowd that threatened to pull down the alrea

Ambroz groaned out, letting it go. We were right on our way out to grab a drink, when certain girls squealed at the both of us. “Oh my, how can two men be so good looking?!” They exclaimed, giggling and blushing on their spots. I winked at them, waving as we got down from the moving stairs Ambroz said was an escalator. On getting to the tavern, my best friend scolded me on its new name which was called a “bar.” His phone rang the minute we ordered a drink, and while I tasted this new alcohol, he went across to take the call.

Senna’s POV The tavern stood where the old supply depot used to be. I stopped at the edge of the street for a moment, taking it in. It hadn’t been here before. The structure was new. I noticed the new wood, the new supports. I could smell the fresh coat of paint. The windows were larger than most buildings in Sector 6. From the outside it looked like a really nice tavern. This had always been his dream, to open up a bar. He’d told me about it countless times.

Sumico was really curious. “Of course… I’m dead certain those three best friends of yours also know it. This pub is quite famous, My Pretty Sumico – for the pub as well as for the… for the… for the prostitution…” said Virando with his slight emphasis. Sumico bulged her eyes spontaneously. “Hah? Prostitution…? Pros…?” Sumico couldn’t even finish her rhetoric question.

Perhaps it was weakness, or perhaps it was inevitability, but when Abram suggested we go out, I didn’t refuse. We found ourselves seated in a dim tavern tucked into one of the quieter corners of the city—a place I had visited once or twice in the past, when anonymity had been easier to maintain. The air was thick with the smell of roasted meat and ale, the steady hum of low conversation weaving with the occasional burst of laughter. Shadows danced along the wooden beams above, cast by the flickering light of torches set into iron brackets.

I huffed at the thought and cranked the motor along the gravel driveway that led away from the pack and into town, increasing the stereo’s volume. The other neighboring packs were hours away, and I had no desire to engage in the niceties and diplomacy of other Alphas to get their permission to enter their territory. Instead, I advanced to the nearest tavern I could locate. Until my mind decided it was time to seek her out. I would attach my ass to a barstool and drown my sorrows in the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. *** Howie’s Ole Ale House was the first tavern I spotted before entering the city. I assumed they were referring to the dilapidated status of this establishment, which desperatel

I was feared around the kingdom. Once my car was properly locked, I stepped into the tavern. I was welcomed by the foul stench of human bodies mixed with alcohol and the smell of tobacco. The tavern was dimly lit by low, yellow hanging bulbs that flickered as the current fluctuated. The tavern was noisy. Men spoke in loud voices around tables and women served drinks to them. There was an empty table and I marked it before going towards the small bar where drinks were served. As soon as the old man standing behind the counter saw me, his eyes widened and he immediately bowed in reverence. "Your majesty! It's a pleasure to have you grace our presence,"