Oout of the fog, The Thirsty Wench catches your eye. As you approach, the sign above door is of a busty woman holding a mug of frothing ale. Pushing the black door open you find a dimly lit Inn and Tavern sprawled before you. Low set tables and scattered chairs litter the room. Obscure dark stains upon the floor make you wonder at thier origin. A long bar sets against the far wall. Shadow seems to hang in every corner.
Perhaps a bit of our history would interest you?
Read of our great God Cyric?
Let us not forget a very close friend who's fate is sealed by bounty.
