The Firkin

The Firkin isn’t a place one would want to be caught after dark. The small, dark hideaway serves really only one purpose, and that is to allow the worst of the worst to congregate. It’s easily missed, tucked underneath seemingly average storefronts inside the Trade Bazaar, leaving only those who seek it out to be the ones to end up inside. There are no species barriers here, but morals are left at the door, and consequences are non-existent. Nobody even truly knows where the owner came from, or who they are, just that the Firkin had been there for centuries, and had continued to survive to be a place for the not-so-legal activities of Irrum Vath to be conspired.

Type

Bar