Generic tavern starter

[stabbytabby]

The Foaming Mug stands in the north end of the City - as it is commonly known to its inhabitants - right smack dab in the middle of the middle class. Its hardy tables stand up to both drunken mug-slamming, and the occasional barfight- and more. To be fair, though, there's generally at least one bouncer on duty, sometimes more when it becomes late at night or during a holiday - the staff would rather not replace the tables unless they have to, thank you very much.

That said, there's plenty of clientele; while it has plenty of regulars, its proximity to the North Gate also makes it one of the first stop for many an adventurer. It's gotten to the point that if someone needs that sort of person for some job or another, they generally come here, posting a scribbled letter on its board near the bar itself. The easiness in finding work has lended the Mug further to those looking for work, which in turn leads to more posted jobs, and so on and so forth. It's gotten to the point that it's fairly common to find a small group clustered about said board, scanning for anything that catches their eye. Jobs range from finding lost pets to procuring raw gems to, "Details upon acceptance."

The owner of the tavern - a tabaxi, oddly enough - often mingles with the crowd, having (supposedly) inherited the bar from a good friend. Though a decent businesscat, he leaves most of the running to the staff, most often interested in stories of the passersby - and free with the drinks for those who indulge his hunger for news and tales.

Comments

[itsprobablyfine]

[Does this tavern include hired music? Too bad, it does now. Only it's less hired and more that a patron started playing entirely on his own. A tiefling in a, frankly, ridiculously large pointed hat is playing away at a violin. Faint strains and hints of other instruments weave through the music; anyone with basic magical training can probably spot the use of prestidigitation to enhance the otherwise mundane music.]

[tailwhipping]

Currently loitering in front of the job board is a, perhaps, unusual sight-- a lizardfolk, standing quietly, frowning at the notifications and offers tacked to the pitted wood. This traveler is recently arrived, her bare feet dusty from the road and the pack strapped over her cloak bulging with supplies. Pinning the throat of her cloak is an ostentatious gold emblem - though the Golden Dawn Company does not have as much presence here as further east, from whence this lizard came.

Coiled on the ground behind her, the tip of said lizard's absurdly long tail flicks against the floor. Do watch where you're stepping, won't you?