Near the frigid north pole, was an infamous tavern known as the Warlock Laughing Stock. It had been in the same general area for more or less seven years, blown back and forth by the cold winds partly due to its small size. A large metal dock surrounds the tavern, allowing sky pirates to park their ships to stop for the night. Behind the tavern is a small wooded area with a road which leads from the other side of the sky-island to the back side of the tavern. The sky-island is small, no more than three square miles across, and five miles down at the lowest point. A large light house build next to the tavern, both houses the servants and guides patrons to the island.
The tavern itself is made with a metal exterior with hard glass windows. The inside, however, is made of wood for a more familiar atmosphere, a fireplace set up inside providing enough warmth for the lobby area, where guests would be capable of lounging about as they waited for their drinks. Servants of all different shapes and sizes work at the Warlock; primarily those who sought adventure, but failed; not that the sky pirates really cared. The tavern provides lodging for small parties. Four rooms are in the back, connected by a single hallway with a staircase leading up to the top floor, where there are six more rooms, connected with a T-shaped hallway. Each room holds about six people. Several other guest houses were built, each with a single doorway leading to a hallway, with six rooms each.
The weather is undoubtedly cold. Strong winds blow in different directions at different hours. Those not careful, find themselves falling off the island to their death. It often snows around the tavern island, covering the surface in a sheet of ice. Needless to say, the fireplace is much welcomed.
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On a fateful day, several rather small, identical vessels approached the tavern island. They were enough to hold a single passenger. The hull was made of metal reinforced wood and the cabins were small with circular windows, allowing the passengers to look out. At the side of the vessels in small letters, was the name "SOCIETY OF DUNGEONEERING AND EXTERMINATION".
There were several other ships anchored as well, scattered about around the island.
There was heavy snow fall around the island and those who left their ships, ran for cover into the tavern pushed back slightly by the harsh wind. The tavern itself, filled with a myriad of different colorful characters with all different varieties of beard, eye-patch, and peg-leg including a slime-pirate with a slime eye-patch, slime beard, and a wooden peg where its feet would be. The bartender was an old man, working perhaps too long. He had gone bald by the looks of things, nothing but a gray goatee remaining. His skin was pale, and his eyes were bright green. Wrinkles lined his forehead.
Around the tavern were strewn circular wooden tables, each with a wax candle at the center, or wherever the patrons happened to want them. Chairs were scattered about, pushed aside and swapped around by the tavern's guests. At the center was a table with no chairs, a single figure sitting there alone.
This particular man looked somewhat demonic in appearance, but definitely much more sophisticated than the other tavern-goers. His skin was red and smooth, fleshy with texture comparable to an average human man. His black hair was slicked back with silver streaks running down. The hair on his side was trimmed down. A single black horn stuck out oof his forehead, and appeared similar to a bent fork. It had one end go back, outlining the right side of his head. The other part of the horn curved to the left slightly and bent upwards. Both ends ended with a sharp point. The demon had lacked facial hair. Two pointy ears sprung out from both sides of his head. Black rimmed glasses were on his face, and gold ball earrings hung off his right ears. He wore a blue vest over a white button-up shirt, a pair of black trousers, black dress-shoes, and a brown overcoat.
He sat there alone and quiet, eyeing the door intently with a cigarette in his mouth. Meanwhile, the tavern bustled on as usual.
The tavern itself is made with a metal exterior with hard glass windows. The inside, however, is made of wood for a more familiar atmosphere, a fireplace set up inside providing enough warmth for the lobby area, where guests would be capable of lounging about as they waited for their drinks. Servants of all different shapes and sizes work at the Warlock; primarily those who sought adventure, but failed; not that the sky pirates really cared. The tavern provides lodging for small parties. Four rooms are in the back, connected by a single hallway with a staircase leading up to the top floor, where there are six more rooms, connected with a T-shaped hallway. Each room holds about six people. Several other guest houses were built, each with a single doorway leading to a hallway, with six rooms each.
The weather is undoubtedly cold. Strong winds blow in different directions at different hours. Those not careful, find themselves falling off the island to their death. It often snows around the tavern island, covering the surface in a sheet of ice. Needless to say, the fireplace is much welcomed.
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On a fateful day, several rather small, identical vessels approached the tavern island. They were enough to hold a single passenger. The hull was made of metal reinforced wood and the cabins were small with circular windows, allowing the passengers to look out. At the side of the vessels in small letters, was the name "SOCIETY OF DUNGEONEERING AND EXTERMINATION".
There were several other ships anchored as well, scattered about around the island.
There was heavy snow fall around the island and those who left their ships, ran for cover into the tavern pushed back slightly by the harsh wind. The tavern itself, filled with a myriad of different colorful characters with all different varieties of beard, eye-patch, and peg-leg including a slime-pirate with a slime eye-patch, slime beard, and a wooden peg where its feet would be. The bartender was an old man, working perhaps too long. He had gone bald by the looks of things, nothing but a gray goatee remaining. His skin was pale, and his eyes were bright green. Wrinkles lined his forehead.
Around the tavern were strewn circular wooden tables, each with a wax candle at the center, or wherever the patrons happened to want them. Chairs were scattered about, pushed aside and swapped around by the tavern's guests. At the center was a table with no chairs, a single figure sitting there alone.
This particular man looked somewhat demonic in appearance, but definitely much more sophisticated than the other tavern-goers. His skin was red and smooth, fleshy with texture comparable to an average human man. His black hair was slicked back with silver streaks running down. The hair on his side was trimmed down. A single black horn stuck out oof his forehead, and appeared similar to a bent fork. It had one end go back, outlining the right side of his head. The other part of the horn curved to the left slightly and bent upwards. Both ends ended with a sharp point. The demon had lacked facial hair. Two pointy ears sprung out from both sides of his head. Black rimmed glasses were on his face, and gold ball earrings hung off his right ears. He wore a blue vest over a white button-up shirt, a pair of black trousers, black dress-shoes, and a brown overcoat.
He sat there alone and quiet, eyeing the door intently with a cigarette in his mouth. Meanwhile, the tavern bustled on as usual.