The port tavern is the shadiest of all the shady bars in the city. Every night, on its grimy stools at the wooden bar, you can find some of the slimiest sailors in the world. The walls are of peeling blue paint and are always dripping with condensation. Women of ill-repute line one wall, old men on the verge of passing out line another. The floor is littered with trash, barnacles, and bodily fluids. Tending the bar is a small, round man with a bushy mustache.
Port Tavern, Port
old men
man
I am an old man who lives in the forest. I chop down trees and turn them in to lumber. I am often seen drinking with other men to ease my muscles.
hi guys! Hello there. Are you a sailor? I used to be a sailor but these old bones can't take it anymore. i chop wood for a living. I have been deep sea fishing a few times though. Ahh to bad. We don't get to many wood choppers in this establishment. What brings you here? The drinking helps relax my muscles. Where have you sailed to? Well mostly trade runs that last a few weeks. You know here and there. This one time there was a storm that rolled in and nearly sunk our ship. Life is so frail. The thing our professions have in common is there's lots of time by yourself. I am often taking trees down by day and chopping logs at night. Who are the regulars at this bar? Well over there you have the women. I think you can guess there purpose in a place like this. No I can't. What kind of things do you eat while at sea? Canned vegetables? You see this scar it came from a fight with a youngster in here.  You don't seem the kind of person to get into a fight. You should have seen me in my younger days. I was quick with the wit and quicker with my fists.