The Regulars
Who's who in the tavern and the town, what pressing each of them gets you, and what the marks over their heads mean.
Last looked at 2026-10-30
The people who were here first
Most of the faces in the tavern aren't players. They're the regulars: the people who keep the place, drink in it, and occasionally need something doing. They keep their own hours, so who's in depends on the day and the time — the room you walk into at noon isn't the room you walk into at midnight.
They talk. A line in a bubble over somebody's head is them saying it. Looking at the whole room you see every bubble, small, so you know where the talk is; walk over to an area and you hear only the people in it. Now and then two of them get into it with each other, a line each, and finish before going back to their own business. Nobody talks to themselves: a regular with nobody in their part of the room keeps quiet.
Press any of them — click, tap or right-click — and you get what they'll do. Everybody can be given Take a proper look, and most will take a drink if you Stand them a drink, and say something back for it. The rest depends on who they are.
The marks over their heads
!— they have a job going, and it's yours if you ask.?— you've done it, or you've got something for them. Go back and they'll settle up.
Jobs pay in coppers. A mark is only ever there for you; somebody else may see a different one over the same head.
Who's who
| Who | What they are | Press them for |
|---|---|---|
| The landlord | Keeps the place. Has heard it before. | He greets you, minds the house rules, and shows newcomers round. Pours, listens, and has never once been asked to sit down for a hand. |
| Ness | Works the counter, and the room when it needs working. | Order a drink — anything off the bill of fare, brought to wherever you're sitting. Ask about the cat, when the cat's gone missing, and Buy cat treats — down the cellar, Indifferent comes for one. |
| Alder | By that fire longer than anybody can account for. Sleeps through most of it. | A drink wakes him, and a man woken by a drink has things to say. |
| Wren | In most nights, in the same spot. Nobody has ever asked her anything. | Ask about the bats, A new floor plan if you have taken her job and lost yours in the cellar (bring paper and ink), and Buy arrowheads — bodkins and fire arrows, of her own making. |
| Peg | The cellarer. Up from the cellar, and not for long. Keeps fair measure and expects the same. | Ask about the cellar: she has the key, a job, and pays for every floor you clear. Ask about the locked door — every lock in the building has a key on her ring. The Cellar |
| Mercer | The pedlar. Knows where every piece in his pack has been. | His stall is in the square by day; at night and in bad weather he's in here. Wares, cellar supplies, and he buys what you bring up. The Town |
| Sable | The limner. Sets up by the window while the light lasts and takes likenesses for coin. Has never painted their own. | Sit for a portrait — your first is on the house, and frames and grounds are chosen as you sit. Ask about the paints, because they're always short of something; once you've brought what they asked for it's Sell painting supplies — dry boards, ochre, beetle shell and silk, for coppers, or handed over a few at a time toward a sitting. Sit for a Portrait |
| Wire | The musician. Plays the room rather than to it, eyes down, every evening. | Sit and listen and they'll play for you, from then on, until you say That's enough for tonight. Ask about the music: pages have been going missing. |
| Bick | The smith. | At the forge by day, at the counter of an evening. Sells, mends and buys arms and armour. The Town |
| Tue | Bick's apprentice. Six years into seven. | Always at the forge, and does whatever Bick would when Bick's out. |
| Corben | Has sat at the corner table for as long as the room has existed. | Nothing. Nobody has ever got a word out of him, and you won't be the first. |
| Dale | Comes in now and then, sits at the corner table, and leaves without troubling anybody. | Nobody knows what he does. |
| Indifferent | The cat. Belongs to the building. | She sits near whoever she has decided to sit near, which is not a decision anybody else is party to. Stand close with the sound on and she purrs. |
| The smith's dog | Bick's. | Spends his days with whoever is about and his evenings under Alder's chair. Goes home to sleep, and when it rains. |
Things worth knowing
- Hours are real. If somebody isn't in, they're not in. Mercer and Bick are out in the town by day, and Wren isn't in every night. Come back later.
- A drink buys a word, never a person. Standing a regular a drink gets you a line back and, for Alder, a waking. It never jumps a queue or unlocks a job early.
- When a festival is on, some of them have stories. Their menu offers
Tell me a story, and once you've heard one,Tell it again.