Situated at the edge of Kingswood Forest, The Stone Dragon tavern is on the border of the King's control. Consequently, it is a hotspot for outlaws and law-abiding citizens alike. A number of secret rooms, doors and passages enable outlaws to hide or make a quick getaway whenever the King's men come swooping in. As there is also an inn here, this is also a popular place for temporary travellers and explorers.
temporary residents
Faeyra
Zohar
Nine
Kaito
Evelyn
Paris
permanent residents
Jacopo, under house arrest
Olive
Alder
Cypress
Effie
Torram
Renn
Nerissa
Sapphire
employees
Olive, Owner
Renn, Bar Staff/Waitress
Jacopo, Gardener
Nine, Bar Staff/Waitress
Zohar, Stable Hand
Paris, Bar Staff
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Bar: Fairies can drink and be merry in this pub-style bar.
Inn: A comfortable place for temporary or permanent residents to stay.
Stables: The stables offer a variety of pens for different animals while their owners are staying in the inn.
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thoth we spend all our time running for our lives, going nowhere
Thoth gathered the medical supplies to his chest, awkwardly wedging them against his good arm, his mouth set in a grim line. He glanced sideways at Cypress, as though checking he had her permission to leave, before standing up and ducking out of the tent’s sole exit. He’d barely taken two steps before he was hailed – not in English, but in the unique dialect of Ponish only spoken on the moor. Thoth half-turned to acknowledge the speaker but kept walking, forcing the Dartmoor pony to trot a few yards in order to catch up with him.
“Hey mate!” Sneezewort wheezed. “Not so fast, eh? My poor old bones can’t take it.”
Thoth ducked under a tent line, keeping the supplies clutched close to his chest. “What do you want?”
“Oh mate,” Sneezewort whined. “It’s my arthritis. Every step is such a drag, every jump shakes my old bones, the flies won’t leave me alone… I bet some sugar would help.” He added hopefully.
Thoth glanced at him over his shoulder, torn between exasperation and amusement. The Dartmoor pony was one of his oldest friends in both senses of the word, and certainly looked a little worse for wear these days. His fluffy coat was coarser and he was leaner than he used to be in his younger days. Thoth had no idea how old Sneezewort was, but he’d known him for at least ten years – ever since he’d brought the pony into Nimueh’s house to examine a bruised leg. In that time, the wild pony had reached his peak and then gradually gone downhill, eventually losing his mares to a younger, stronger stallion a couple of years back. Now he wandered the moors alone, befriending generous picnickers. Every now and then he came ambling into camp for a catch-up. He knew Thoth didn’t have treats to spare anymore, but it never hurt to ask.
“My sight is going,” he said tragically, “every day grows darker. And colder.”
“That’s because winter’s coming,” Thoth pointed out, dumping the medical supplies into the canvas bag under the haphazard wooden structure which had been built to store inedible necessities. “Bugger off, I’m busy.”
Sneezewort did not bugger off. He followed Thoth all the way back to his tent, lamenting his age, and waited by the entrance while Thoth ducked inside. Forgetting about the pony outside, Thoth watched while Danny set Cy’s arm into a sling and helped her to lie down on the sleeping bag. Once Cy was recumbent, Danny rounded on him, and Thoth submitted to his attentions with a touch of resignation. His wrist was so numb by the time Danny had finished that he wasn’t sure if it was completely healed or completely anaesthetised. Or both. He grunted non-committally while Danny stepped out, but did sit down on the ground next to Cypress. She wasn’t looking at him, but staring at the ground while plucking at the blanket. Thoth rubbed his chin, frowning, trying to work out what he was supposed to do now.
He wasn’t given much opportunity to think it over. Almost as soon as Danny left, someone else stepped in, forcing Thoth to jump back to his feet.
“Sneezewort, no!” He groaned, pressing his hand against the pony’s shoulder. He may as well have tried to shove a wall. Sneezewort stepped decisively forward, getting both front legs in, but was unable to get his hind legs inside before he filled up almost all of the interior space.
“Warm in here,” the pony mused, snuffling at Thoth’s shirt.
“Don’t even – ” Thoth started in a warning voice, but it was too late. Sneezewort lowered himself to the floor with a thump, occupying all of the rest of the floor space which Cypress was not already using and pressing her up against the wall of the tent. As he shifted, Thoth lost his balance and fell on top of him. He sighed into the pony’s neck. “Cypress, Sneezewort,” he grumbled, rolling over so that he was lying on his friend’s back. Then, in Ponish, he added, “Sneezewort, Cypress.”