Prancing Mare Guild and Tavern

[SweetiePup]

The Prancing Mare, world famous Adventurer's Guild and Tavern - or so it wishes it could be. 30 years ago, it was a popular and bustling hot spot for travelers back when it was simply a Tavern on its own. Since, sadly, the owner had passed some time since then, and his daughter, the Centaur named Claire, finds herself the patron of the place. Wiping down the polished beechwood bar counter for what must have been the tenth time that day, she sighs. The girl glances over to the far wall next to the wide entrance doors, where it seemed the ever-growing pile of quest requests and work requests stood pinned into the wood. Only three people were present in the otherwise empty foyer.

John, the drunkard from the nearby town was laying across a table in the center of the bar, passed out, snoring loudly, and drooling all over the place. He was the only reason the place could afford to stay open, really. A lone traveler sat at the furthest end of the bar, nursing a tall flagon. As best as she had tried, Claire wasn't able to get them to say a word. The last person present was the weekly delivery man, bringing the usual supplies.

The Centaur girl sighed and placed her elbows on the bartop glumly. "Where did I go wrong?" She lamented to no one in particular. "I kept the same menu, added new drinks, and spent out the wazoo on advertising. You'd think this place'd be bustling up a storm with up and coming adventurers now! Or maybe some Outsider worshippers or just...just something!" She annoyedly tossed her cleaning rag behind her and into a washbin, turning around to busy herself with organizing.