The Crusty Anchor bore the rich rugged aroma like a good old fashioned ale house. And it was, actually. The place had been brewing their special seaweed crust ale for 4 years and were going strong to this very day. The bar was made of fairly old wood painted black and speaking of unique age. The windows provided the light and a few hanging lanterns clinked lightly above. The bar itself was attended to by a ruddy looking human in his 40s, a slight wispy beard and a tough face like it had been chiseled into rock. He was fastidiously polishing a glass behind the bar, standing beside a piece of slate which bore the prices in chalk.
Crown Ale - 7 Bronze Crowns
Crown Cider - 7 Bronze Crowns
Crown Mead - 7 Bronze Crowns
Seaweed broth brew - 12 Bronze Crowns
On the other side of the bar counter, another chunk of slate had been raised bearing the food prices.
Smoked salmon - 10 Bronze Crowns
Boiled fish stew with bread - 10 Bronze Crowns
Pottage stew with bread - 9 Bronze Crowns
Harvester’s lunch - 6 Bronze Crowns
The bar had a few wayward individuals lingering within, some at tables and two patrons at the bar enjoying a drink together, both hearty individuals. A dark skinned woman in red attire sat on her own at a table near the back.
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