The Inns Of Old Danfelgor

 

Old Danfelgor's inns and taverns were the heart of its social, commercial and political life. Each establishment had its own unique character, drawing in people from different walks of life and weaving them into the city’s fabric.

 

The Three Crowned Stars and Three Eagles

A contemporary account

" Situated in Danfelgor's Old Quarter, between the Market Square and the Harbour, the Three Crowned Stars and Three Eagles tavern, where I am currently staying, straddles the line between respectability and intrigue in a way that is very typical of Danfelgor. Its large wooden signs, depicting three golden stars above three soaring eagles, hang above heavy oak doors reinforced with iron studs. Lanterns sway beside the signs, casting a warm glow on the cobbled street.

 

"The tavern’s name derives from the fact that it was originally two separate establishments which backed onto one another. Many years ago the owner of the Three Crowned Stars died and his tavern was bought by the owner of the Three Eagles. After several years of operating in tandem, the two taverns were combined into one by knocking out their respective back walls, creating the main room of the space which we see today. As a result of this history, the tavern can be entered either from Market Street or via its other door on Harbour Way.

 

"Inside, the main room is spacious and yet still feels cosy, with polished stone floors and massive oak beams supporting a ceiling blackened by smoke from the stone hearth. The oak-panelled walls are adorned with faded tapestries and relics from far-off lands—paintings, lanterns, shields, and even a pair of eagle wings said to have belonged to the tavern’s namesake. There are several smaller side rooms, each with its own regular circle of loyal patrons. All the rooms tend to have one type of customer during the day and a completely different type in the evenings.

 

"The long bar, with its top carved from a huge single slab of dark oak, is the focus of the room, - rows of bottles and barrels line the shelves behind it. The scent of spiced ale and roasted meats mingles with the tang of smoke and the earthy aroma of the sawdust scattered on the floor. Heavy oak tables and high-backed settles are scattered throughout the room, and a raised area in the back serves as a stage for troubadours and storytellers. A narrow staircase leads to the upper floors, where rooms and comfortable bedchambers are available for rent, including the Meeting Room, which appears to be a haven for secret societies, clandestine deals, and commercial conspiracies.

 

"The tavern’s owner, Bartan Ryl, is a large man in his mid-forties with a ready laugh, a bluff exterior, and a surprisingly sharp intellect. Once a sea captain who navigated the Estasean trade routes, Bartan retired from the sea after losing a leg to a pirate’s blade. His wooden limb, carved with intricate patterns of waves and stars, is a mark of his survival and his craftsmanship. Bartan runs the tavern as tightly as he used to run his ship and has a knack for reading people, often calming disputes before they escalate. Known to his patrons as “The Captain” he is known for his discretion—what happens in the Three Crowned Stars and Three Eagles stays there.

 

"By day, merchants of the smaller houses frequent the tavern to discuss deals and the news from the city’s markets. They often occupy the tables near the hearth, where the warmth and light encourage conviviality. Poets and philosophers, inspired by Kentumirto’s teachings, gather in the evenings to debate over glasses of plum wine and mulled cider. The tavern is also a favorite haunt of rather dubious riverfront traders who admittedly bring a lively energy to the space, their colourful voices mixing with the background chatter. They refer to themselves as "freetraders", so I assume that they deal in contraband. All in all, the tavern is quite a centre of lively commerce.

Finally, the upstairs Meeting Room seems to attract some quite shadowy figures—political dissidents, spies, and members of secret organizations. Bartan’s strict neutrality and the chamber’s thick stone walls seem to make it an ideal location for discreet gatherings as well as private business meetings.

 

"The tavern is known for its specialities, such as Golden Eagle Ale - a strong, rich, amber ale brewed with local spices and honey, served in tall pewter mugs - in Winter it is often mulled. Also very popular is an Estasean wine with a deep crimson hue and a spicy, heady flavor that lingers on the palate. Meat pies baked by Bartan’s wife, Jeyna, filled with minced lamb, onions, and a secret blend of herbs and spices are always on the menu, as is River Stew made with fresh fish from the Danfel River, potatoes, cream and a splash of cider, served with crusty bread. An evening favourite in this current cold weather is strong, dark, spiced tea, laced with rum for warmth. The Winter here is colder than we are used to in Estasea, I must say.

 

"Upstairs, the Meeting Room is a dimly lit chamber with a round oak table and high-backed chairs upholstered in crimson velvet. A single wrought iron chandelier hangs overhead, its candles casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The chamber’s extra thick stone walls, made even thicker by solid oak panelling, ensure that no word spoken within reaches the crowded tavern below. Bartan himself serves drinks to the occupants, his silence as dependable as his ale. Food is not served in this room, but by custom of the house, bottles of rum are placed upon the table before each meeting commences.

 

"The Three Crowned Stars and Three Eagles Tavern is more than just a place for food and drink—it is a hub of commerce, culture, and intrigue. It bridges the gap between Danfelgor’s public respectability and its undercurrent of ambition and cunning - a space where important events of business and politics are often shaped over a pint of Golden Eagle Ale or a whispered conversation in the Meeting Room."

Account by a traveller from Estasea in a letter to his brother.

 

The Tiger's Head

Tucked away in a cobbled alley off the main thoroughfare, The Tiger's Head was one of Danfelgor’s oldest inns. With its dark wooden beams and huge fireplaces, it had a warm, welcoming atmosphere. Known for serving excellent ale and roast beef, it was frequented by travellers, nobles in everyday clothes, and occasionally even Gorak Baldan, slipping in disguised and unnoticed.

When Prince Valubani first arrived in Danfelgor, he chose this inn for his first few days, enjoying the quiet environment of the inn, mingling with the common folk as he observed the workings of the city. Sitting by the fire, with a mug of ale, the prince welcomed the company of strangers who were oblivious to his true identity.

The Walrus

A short walk from the artists' quarter, The Walrus was a tavern known for its lively atmosphere and bohemian crowd. The evenings brought together poets, painters, and writers, who filled the air with intense debates on art and politics. It was not uncommon for politicians to join these discussions to engage with the city’s intellectual undercurrent.

On any given night, animated voices echoed off the walls, blending with music or the clink of mugs. The Walrus was a place where ideas flowed, where the boundaries between artist and politician often blurred, and issues were fiercely debated over a candle-lit table.

The Rusty Anchor

Down by the river’s edge, where the scent of tar and brine, and the noise of the docks filled the air, lay The Rusty Anchor.  Sometimes rowdy, this waterfront pub often saw brawls and arguments, yet students went there for the music, as minstrels and folk singers entertained the audience with their songs of rebellion, heroics or love. Despite its rough reputation, The Rusty Anchor had a great atmosphere and people came to lose themselves - it was often the music asmuch as the drink that they came for.

The Pen and Bowl

Near the Law Courts was The Pen and Bowl, a tavern frequented by lawyers, scribes, and their clients. Its atmosphere was quieter and more refined than the inns by the waterfront, with legal debates taking place over pints of ale or goblets of wine. It was a place where deals were struck, testimonies rehearsed, and justice mulled over in quiet contemplation.

The Pen and Bowl was known for its discretion, as legal cases were discussed here in the corners of the bars, with celebrations after successful trials common among its patrons. An aroma of old leather-bound books and dusty parchment seemed to linger in the air, mingling with the scent of mulled ale.

The Cargo

At the heart of the city, in the busy central square, stood The Cargo, adjacent to the Merchants’ Hall and was favored by traders and merchants who were not members of the Guild and who came to Danfelgor on business. With its large bedrooms and comfortable fittings, The Cargo offered rest and refreshment to those who spent their days negotiating deals, inspecting goods, or attending trade meetings in the Hall next door.

The inn was always filled with conversation about prices, shipments, and distant trading centres. The smell of exotic spices and the rhythyms of different languages filled the air, as merchants gathered to celebrate a successful deal and analyse their profits and losses over wine and gourmet meals.

The Dragon

The Dragon was next door to Danfelgor’s Craft Guild Hall, a tavern where blacksmiths, carpenters, weavers, and other artisans gathered to share stories of their work and craft. The air inside was thick with the smell of wood smoke and cooking, and the walls were adorned with the symbols of each guild, proudly displayed by their members.

The Dragon was a place where apprentices could listen to the wisdom of their masters and new commissions could be negotiated over ale. It was a place where craftsmanship was celebrated, where artisans could speak with pride of their work, knowing that they were the backbone of the great city.

The Herring’s Misfortune

In a backstreet near the great library was The Herring’s Misfortune, a pub with a more eccentric, bohemian air. Its name came from a local legend about a fisherman’s greatest ever catch, and the pub had come to represent the unpredictable twists of life. The clientele here were a mixture of scholars, eccentrics, and nonconformists, each drawn to the place’s distinctive charm.

With its mismatched furniture and walls lined with strange curios, The Herring’s Misfortune was a place for those who lived on the edges of society—philosophers who questioned everything, writers who sought inspiration, and those with visions too wild for the more orderly inns of Danfelgor.

The Green Lamp

Tucked away in a narrow alley not far from the alchemist's quarter, The Green Lamp was a modest, dimly lit inn known for its atmosphere of quiet contemplation. A single green lantern was its only sign, glowing through the evening mist, giving the place an understated allure. Its stone walls were dark and cool, and the interior was filled with the smell of parchment, herbs, and ink.

The Green Lamp catered to scholars, trainee alchemists, and those who worked in the arts. Here, young students would sit with notebooks spread before them, scribbling diligently as bearded sages discussed their latest findings. The patrons preferred simple rustic food—thick stews made from root vegetables and beef, served with dense rye bread. The drink of choice was a potent spiced mead, said by some to sharpen the mind and relax the soul.

The Three Antlers

Well away from the busy market, on the very edge of the city, The Three Antlers was a former hunting lodge turned tavern, its walls covered with antlers, animal skins, and hunting trophies. The inn had an air of rusticism, its heavy timber beams darkened by years of woodsmoke and lit by soft lanterns. The stone hearth in the center was always crackling and warm during the bitter winters of Danfelgor.

The inn’s clientele were mostly hunters, trappers, and woodsmen who came into the city to trade pelts and game. They favored hearty portions of roasted venison and spiced sausages, served with dark ales flavoured with forest herbs. Here, stories of hunts and encounters with creatures of the wilderness filled the air, as the men ate and drank .

The Silver Kettle

On a quiet street lined with fine silk merchants and jewelers was The Silver Kettle, an inn known for its elegant décor and prosperous clientele. The building was adorned with intricately carved wooden doors and windows, and polished silver lanterns hanging from its ceilings. Inside, the tavern gleamed with silver kettles and pots hanging above the bar, while the walls were covered with fine tapestries.

The Silver Kettle catered to wealthy merchants, foreign dignitaries, and city officials. The food tended to be rich—delicate pastries filled with cream, roasted pheasants seasoned with aromatic spices, and elaborate pies filled with meat and fruit. The drink of choice was a sweet wine imported from southern vineyards, served in fine goblets.

The tavern's atmosphere was one of shrewd negotiation, where deals were made over good food and fine wine, and sealed with a handshake across polished wooden tables.

The Black Dog

At the edge of the city, close to the grimy industrial workshops and tanneries, stood The Black Dog, an old and weathered building. Its stone walls were stained with soot, and its creaky wooden door was always slightly ajar. The sign above the entrance depicted a black hound in a tattered coat, a fitting image for the rough clientele that frequented it. The floors were uneven stone, worn smooth by years of foot traffic, and the furniture was mismatched and scarred by age.

The patrons of The Black Dog were laborers, dockhands, and blacksmiths, men and women who worked long hours and came here to for the cheapest ale the city had to offer. The food was simple and hearty—meat pies filled with pork, onions, and carrots, served alongside thick, black bread. Strong, bitter beer flowed freely, and the smell of candle wax hung heavy in the air.

The tavern had a rough-and-tumble atmosphere, where brawls were common, but despite its appearance, The Black Dog had a camaraderie among its regulars that couldn’t be found in the finer inns of Danfelgor.

The Golden Griffin

Perched on a hill that overlooked the river, The Golden Griffin was one of the most opulent inns in Danfelgor. Its exterior was built of white stone with gilded windows and towering columns. The sign outside was a fearsome golden griffin carved from wood, wings outstretched as if ready to take flight. Inside, the ceilings were high and vaulted, the floors polished marble, and chandeliers sparkled overhead.

The Golden Griffin catered to nobility, diplomats, and the city’s elite, offering luxurious rooms for guests who demanded nothing less than the best. The food was a lavish affair—whole roasted sucking pig, platters of oysters, and spiced lamb served with intricate sauces. Fine wines from every corner of the kingdom were available to savour with the cuisine.

This inn was more than a place to stay—it was a status symbol. The rich and powerful came here not just to dine and drink, but to be seen and to socialize with their peers. It was a place where political alliances were forged, and fortunes discussed over goblets of wine.

The Stag's Leap

Near the gates leading to the city’s eastward roads stood The Stag’s Leap, a sturdy, old inn with walls of rough-hewn wood and a roof of thatch. The sign outside bore the image of a white stag, a symbol of purity and the wild lands beyond the city. Its large windows let in sunlight during the day, and at night the entire inn glowed with the light of hanging lanterns behind heavy wooden shutters.

The Stag’s Leap was a favorite stop for travelers, caravaneers, and adventurers making their way into or out of Danfelgor. Its atmosphere was lively, with stories of far-off lands and exciting journeys told around long wooden tables. The food was plain but satisfying—large haunches of meat, filling bowls of stew, and fresh-baked bread. A special honeyed ale, flavoured with wild herbs, was the house favorite.

The inn’s walls were covered in maps and tokens from travelers who had passed through—ribbons from foreign lands, small wooden carvings, and souvenirs left behind by adventurers as a mark of their passing.

 

These inns of Old Danfelgor, each with their unique patrons, styles, and settings, reflect the social diversity of the city. From the lavish Golden Griffin to the rough-and-tumble Black Dog, they provide a glimpse into the lives of the city’s inhabitants through the food, drink, and stories shared within these establishments. Together, these inns and taverns formed the soul of Danfelgor, each one playing its part in the city's social, intellectual, and cultural life. Whether it was the elegant confines of The Cargo or the lively chaos of The Rusty Anchor, the inns of Old Danfelgor were where stories were made, alliances were forged, and the pulse of the city could always be felt.