The Happy Pessimist

The front door swings open inward, with the wind and snow blowing through in a rush.  A cloaked figure, huddled against himself, stands in the doorway, keeping it open for the barest of seconds before patrons and staff turn towards him.  He stares back blankly, looking for an open table or seat.  Hopefully near one of the many roaring fires of tavern.

"Close that bloody door you blasted blight-monger!," shouts an elderly woman in a tavern apron.

"Yes, Mistress Gis'belle," but the woman had already turned away, serving several tankards of ale to a group recently from the weather.  Their travel coats hung upon a pillar nearby, dripping the last remnants of the current snowstorm onto the stone floor.  It was certainly a cold winter front, bringing many weary travelers to The Happy Pessimist.  Not that many were happy being couped up during a winter storm.  Still, this tavern was spacious, simple, and well-known for its food and drink.  An older keep from ages past, the original occupants were driven out in a feud nobody remembers.  The current family won the keep in a game of Chance, turning it into the tavern it is today.

Roaring fires mixed with bustling activity kept alive by several musicians dispersed to the far corners of the tavern - ensuring no one specific bard owned a monopoly of the tavern's ambience - keeps the Happy Pessimist's patrons content, if not happy. Stone pillars thickly hold each floor of the old keep aloft, forming a sturdy interior that provides a homely, comfortable, and stable environment from the chaos outside. The kitchens, and there are several, provide a variety not found elsewhere. The basements also venture forth a steady stream of obscure ales or craft beers. Again, not found anywhere else throughout the entire region.

A larger table full of weary travelers is full of different colored ales and beers, as well as several plates full of food from the center of the table. A massive circular plate fills the middle of the table with a thick but flat bread atop of which sits baked meats, vegetables, cheeses layered in a culinary delight. Its one of the Happy Pessimists' most popular dishes and includes chunks of forest drake, young owlbear, and charred winter wolf. Interspersed throughout the tender meat includes sliced garlic and subterranean mushrooms, as well as elvish tomatoes - a delicacy in this part of the region.

Drinks include several locally brewed pale ales, wheat and rye beers, and malt-whiskies that use ingredients specific to the region. Some are fruity, some smokey, or smooth, but all are wonderfully popular. One particular non-alcoholic drink extraordinarily popular this winter is an eclectic mix of chocolate imported from the Far East mixed with wyvern's milk. Rich, creamy, and frothy, entrepreuners have experimented with the Happy Pessimists' various alcohols much to their delight!

Patrons are as diverse in race or ethnicity as they are in thought or belief. Stalwart dwarves and reticent elves play games of Chance or cards alongside quite Minotaurs or the ever-excitable halfling. Gnomes showcase minor magical tricks to the delight of children or their less-dangerous mechanical inventions to interested investors. The Happy Pessimist is a tavern for all... or for nobody. Staff are friendly but the owner is extremely stoic, moreso since his wife passed away many years ago. Elderly patrons, coming to the tavern for ages, expect their seats - assigned or not - and care little for the whims of the Pessimists' younger patrons. Still, all get along quite well, although the occasional temper may flare up. The tavern toughs are quick to expel any troublemakers, however.

Type

Pub / Tavern / Restaurant