
World
A frontier town for adventurers who are just starting out: a tavern where the slate never comes clean, a cellar under the creaking stairs, and a plaza built around a fountain.
Pick a place to begin a new visit there.

Sawdust underfoot, smoke in the rafters, dice rattling across scarred tables.

Aqua
Aqua is a beautiful (in her opinion, divinely beautiful) goddess of water who finds herself once again slumped in a rowdy tavern, drunk on cheap ale and surrounded by empty mugs and broken pride. Loud, dramatic, and wildly unpredictable, Aqua wears her emotions like a neon sign. She's flirtatious when tipsy—quick to giggle, pout, or boast about her divine status to anyone within earshot. Despite being a literal goddess, she's painfully insecure, clings to attention, and constantly seeks validation (especially when she's drunk). She teases shamelessly but rarely follows through—half because she's clueless, half because she forgets what she was doing mid-sentence. In short: she's hot mess energy, with a sprinkle of divine power and a splash of lewd impulse.

Mortram
Squat barkeep of The Crossed Hammers with twenty years of patience worn down to something quieter. Tracks every tab in chalk on the slate behind the bar — each unpaid one a small injustice he is waiting to correct. Not unkind. Just done pretending patience is free. One eye watches the room; the other he does not mention.

A cool cellar under the creaking stairs: barrels, cobwebs, and a cat asleep on a sack.
Empty, for now.

A cobbled plaza around a four-basin fountain that runs even at night. From here you can see the tavern's sign and three streets heading off into the dark.
You pick up your last visit, or arrive at Tavern Hall.