The young merchant boy heaved out a sigh as he entered the clearing in the forest. He had been travelling for three days now and had another day to go before reaching the neighboring village.

He looked up ahead and couldn’t believe his eyes as he spotted a beautiful tavern sitting atop a shimmering lake. The tavern had such an inviting air that he could feel himself being drawn in, taking a step ...

I was just a weary traveler winding through the lagoon. I had heard stories of this majestic inn that sat above the water and above any trouble. And above alligators.

The inn was run by a kind woman who seemed to know everything there is to know. She knew who I was the moment I walked through the door.

But it was run by the woman and her granddaughter.

Blue eyes sparked with curiosity and brunette...

In the lake of Moore lies an odd little tavern, one taken straight out of a fairytale. That’s why when Atlas, a bard in search for the next great story stumbles upon the place, he makes his way inside.

“Hello?” Atlas calls, pushing the creaking door open. The tavern is illuminated by the warm glow of wax candles, the aroma of pines wafting in the air. Tables of pixies and trolls chug down sizzli...

Me? I've seen a lot of strange things in Shroomvile, but this neighbor of mine takes the Shroomcake. there I was lying in my bed playing with my little Kalimba trying to fall asleep and then I heard strange voices outside, Because I like fresh air my little window was open. so annoyed I sat my kalimba down on my bedside table and crept to the window and here at 3 in the morning, my new neighbor wa...

The tavern was an old oak building built on the river banks with a indoor bridge connecting the two buildings. From the outside it looked slightly creepy, especially if you come across it in the fog, but inside it is the cosiest, prettiest place you could imagine. Filled with laughter, happiness, good times, and magic.

The tavern is filled with witches and wizards, fairies and pixies, giants and ...

Despite its story-book setting, nestled on the bank of Galamaas River, The White Stag was a rundown establishment, even on its best days.

A low ceiling—and a poorly ventilated chimney—trapped the smoke from the log fire, the pipe-smoke, and smells of ale and spirits, which, when compounded by the poor hygiene of some of its patrons, made it a place of acquired tolerance.

The wooden bar, tables a...

Bubbles the cauldron. Cackles the woman. Purrs the cat. Whispers the wind.

Ahh… a pinch of this.

A bit of that.

A stir here-

Now add this.

The woman in her tavern, surrounded by the murky waters and leaping frogs. She whispers and mumbles jumbled words as she sits at the pot, watching the purple mixture bubble and churn like a storm on edge.

The cat sits, eyeing her skeptically as she babies he...

I awakened at four

On the water by daybreak

The work is hard and wet

The time has come to rest my weary bones

But what do I do when this story ends

Time and idle hands may be the death of me

The yields have diminished

And my crew is but me

And as I pondered what came next

I do what I do daily

And seek refuge from my busy mind

At a tavern on the water

As I hoist my aging body from the boat

I...

The Tavern on the Water had the weather to thank for it’s good business that night. Alys adjusted the kerchief keeping her curly red hair out of her face and looked around to see if anyone needed a refill or anything of the like.

The room was loud, and laughter and chatter filled the space. The majority of the noise came from a group of rough-looking men on the other side of the room, but they we...

“Aaahh!” I scream as I jolt awake. Swinging around trying to clear my eyes of something wet. Heart thumping as I search for the cut throat that would attack me in such a low way.

“Oh pardon me sleeping beauty” says the short plump woman as she cleans the bar. A satisfied smile on her face as she washes the table of stale mead.

“Oh and you didn’t think maybe I should give him a tap first before...