Well It's All For Me Grog, Me Jolly Jolly Grog,

[unheiring]

Towering Above

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It’s hard to miss the fact that a new building has appeared on the eastern edge of town. Made entirely of brick and stone, the Watchtower stands at the forest’s edge as if it might serve as a last stand against any sort of creatures that might crawl through.

And yet it becomes clear, as stray bottles and cups are piled into trashed crates outside, that the Watchtower is far more than that. This is your new bar, Grove residents. And right now, Luca Aurelius is currently toiling away to get it in working order. Offering help in your own way might just net you a few free drinks and get the bar open that much quicker.

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Opening Night

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Just a few days after the tower goes up, the doors are opened to the public. The announcement is short and simple — a scrawled page in the Netbooks for all to see.

The Watchtower Bar is now open. Free drinks to anyone who helped with cleanup
Must be 15 or up for Cider and Wine. 17 or older for hard liquor.
Food provided.

Entering the premises will reveal that no expense has been spared, or at least no expense within the parameters of what the Grove can provide. Though the Watchtower itself is three floors, only the first two are available for patrons. The first floor has plenty of tables at hand, all arranged around a central hearth with various pots of food and snacks left to simmer above it. The bar itself is arranged against the back wall, with additional stools to accommodate patrons in need of more direct service. Casks of wine, beer, cider, and ale are all arranged along the wall, while bottles of the harder stuff are sat above.

Visible from the first floor is the second. The lofted seating area provides the perfect view for the revelry below, all while staying out of sight. There are plenty more tables up here, though they’re more spaced out to provide slightly more intimate conversations. You’ll just have to be the one to fetch your drinks— there are no barmaids to help you here.

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A Night of Revelry

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That isn’t to say you’re without the bare basics, though. Naturally the liquor will flow, especially as long as you’re providing currency. Luca isn’t all that picky — shells, sticks, bones, it’s all the same. The food, at least, is free. Whether you reach for the cheese and crackers laid out on various tables throughout the bar, choose to ladle out some of the stew simmering over a fire, or pour some of the fondue beside it, you’ll have plenty at hand to satisfy your munchies.

One table in particular features a deck of cards. There’s no game in particular to be played, and any money you decide to put on the line is your choice. Poker, Blackjack, Rummy — whatever suits your fancy is on hand. Or if you feel like hogging the table, play some solitaire. Luca isn’t going to shoo you away.

Close by, another table has been pulled away. A somewhat messily carved dartboard has been hung against the wall. Rather than actual darts, you’ll have to play with knives but… that’s just part of the fun, right?

One final table is adorned only with a single jug. Peering in, you’ll find that it’s filled with wine, and the faintest compulsion to just drink it. Doing so without any prep will only result in disaster, however. Failing to plug up three specific holes and angle the jug just right will result in your clothes being stained with wine. Worse still, you might even hear a whisper in your ear. “Take two shots.”

Weird, but hey! What’s a party without a drinking game?

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All Good Things…

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When the moon rises high and the liquor stops flowing, it’s bound to happen that the fun comes to an end. Whether patrons are passed out or have stumbled home, you might find yourself alone at the bar.

Well, not entirely alone.

There’s the sound of a whistle as a chair scrapes its way back into place. The smell of tobacco and spices might encircle you as your plate and glass are gathered up and carried off into the storeroom. You can’t always see him, but someone seems keen on looking out for you.

Unless you’re passed out in a ridiculous position. Then you might hear the ghostly laughter of a man long dead.