Sociable Tavern Novels & Stories

The bellowing of the men's laughter as they slammed their mazers against one another, collided with the loud voices of the giggling ladies as their hands snuck into the men's garments in a sensuous manner, rubbing them off the coins they had carefully tucked away before they came, The music struggled with all the noise, still managing to be defined in its melodious combination, over the loud conversation, as the scantily dressed ladies on the stage, floor, and tables, danced to it. This was the Tavern. A place far from the Capital's Market Square, and hidden away. Life here was different from the life of the people closest to the Square. Here it was music, it was alcohol, it was sex, it was

• 2009 Somewhere in the outskirts of the Southern region of the United States, probably Texas, was a miserable tiny town that had a tavern which happened to be always full to capacity and men and women would come to drown their sorrows with pints, mugs, bottles and even barrels, promising themselves a future for a better tomorrow which of course never came. There was some local music playing in the background with a section of people playing pool at the heart of the tavern. There were other nights when some couples would just drink themselves silly and make out. This was one of those nights and one person wasn't particularly pleased by this when she could hear the heavy breathing of the two

The tavern’s lights seem to have gotten brighter, and the slightly crooked signage just at the top reassured me somehow – this picturesque scene can be flawed yet perfect at the same time. “I seriously need to stop overthinking, I’ve played this in my head thousands of times already,” I mutter as I pushed the door open – I slightly winced as the overwhelming smell of cigarettes and vodka greeted my nose. I forced myself to trudge towards the very front of the tavern, where my good friend worked as a bartender. “Markie!” I called out to him – however, he was far too busy to even hear me from his spot. Must be tough… There weren’t available seats either, there were people left and right shouti

- If I have no heirs, yours will be there. - Oh no, don’t even think about it; my children will never lead a mafia; it’s too risky, too dangerous; they won’t serve as bait for the vultures. - So, I’m bait for the vultures? And why don’t I see them? - Because they fear you too much. We arrive at the tavern (the name given to one of my buildings that includes a hotel, two bars (one with strippers and the other for karaoke fans), and a brothel where auctions take place.

Adrian kept Mackay hidden from the world, making him officially dead. Mackay was sent back to Novena and then to Falconia, becoming one of Adrian's informants. Gazelle Tavern in the Southern District was accessible only to specific individuals and not open to unfamiliar customers. Gaining entry was difficult; those who could enter were from major families, powerful forces, or friends of powerful figures. The entrance to this tavern was exceptionally secretive. The door was embedded into the wall and so well hidden that even with a magnifying glass, one might not find the crack.

But I doubt the wink though. It's as charming inside as it is on the outside. The tavern itself is packed. Rich people seem to be the primary clientele here, which could be seen as a bad sign, though you're sure it's not. Several long tables are occupied by, what must be separate groups who have bonded over great food and conversation. The other, smaller tables are also occupied by people who seem to be enjoying themselves a lot, perhaps too much, if such a thing is possible. Even most of the stools at the bar are occupied, though nobody seems to mind more company.

I guess that’s what building up a business does to you. I hold the door until he joins me, and he slaps me on the back as we head inside. Sassy’s is one of those typical small-town drinking holes. A dimly lit bar with a good selection of local ales and a random collection of tables and chairs that don’t match, but it suits the place. We head to the bar, and Cain orders. The first slug of ale goes down a treat, and we head over to a table in the corner by the open fire. Cain kicks back and takes off his tie. He rolls it around his fist and slips it into his inside pocket, then he eyes me with that easy smile I’ve come to know so well over the years. “Rough day, then?”

I replied with a smile, earning a cheer from Ana and a playful clap on the back from Marcus. Sweeney’s was exactly what they’d described—a small, dimly lit dive bar with cracked leather booths and old band posters plastered on the walls. The place was packed, with the hum of conversations and laughter filling the air. It was the kind of place where you could lose track of time, wrapped in the haze of cheap beer and good company.

James knew that a tavern was the best place to inquire about information. The tavern had a large hall. James walked inside and glanced around. After finding an empty seat, he made himself comfortable. Then, he paid a few Holy Stones for a pitcher of wine and began to drink leisurely. There were many customers inside the tavern. Many sat in groups, drinking and chatting about the major events happening all over the universe. Since they were in Callahan City, the Callahans’ affairs were naturally the most popular topic. Bria was mentioned in almost every conversation.

I did what was required of me. But there were nights–more than I’d like to admit–where I couldn’t keep thoughts of Freesia out of my head. Anger, guilt, and regret all festered until I couldn’t take it anymore. Those were the nights when only alcohol could nurse me to sleep. Tonight was one of those nights. So when I heard there was a bar that became popular among the people here for its eccentric array of cocktails, I was equally surprised and satisfied. The exterior of the Rusty Tavern lived up to its name. The brick walls were covered in grime, and the windows were coated entirely in black soot.