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Post by Divinus on Jun 25, 2007 19:35:52 GMT -5
The inn of Dragontown was, like the rest of the world, run down. The walls were of bland grey granite, uneven and broken. Large portions of the southern wall were damaged, leaving a few small sized holes, large enough for an average man to walk through. The roof on the outside seemed poorly built, and like the walls, had holes that exposed a few beams from the right angels.
The entrance leads into a small indention, a 5-foot tunnel to the heavy wooden door. The inside of the tunnel had all sorts of roots crawling the wall, some of the fungi providing a small illumination in the tunnel. The door would swing open with a heavy creak. The picture on the other side was a bit of a different story.
The walls were wood, broke in places, but well kept for the scene of Dragontown. There were tables of various sizes about the place, and beams to hold the complex rafter system aloft. From virtually any place, a person would be able to see into the dark red skies above, but the reverse was not possible. The bar was broken and uneven, but it seemed able enough to serve those that came. Behind it, always, was Coldstone--an obese man with a few scars along his heavy frame. He wore a green shirt with holes and some stains, and brown pants held aloft by suspenders. He was bald, for the most part, and his face a bit disfigured. That didn't stop his cold steel eyes from falling upon anyone who caused a scene or entered his bar.
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