A rough travellers guide of the inns, hostels and drinking pits of Arabel and the Hullack Kingdom at large. By Kip Cosmo.


A pub of few regulars, with a dirty floor usually covered in blood and mud trampled in by the many adventurers who lodge there, seeking a bed and a beer while they heal their many trade-wrought wounds. The landlord is a jolly gentlemen with a Tychean spirit and a ale-sodden grin. The inn is not the place for high society or even a quiet drink, due the large amount of traffic moving in out of this busy establishment. Often the clamour of adventurous chat can be heard, or the clang of armour as scores of chancers, rogues and mercenaries move around the busy bar. It is home to many of the adventuring populace of Arabel, with many pokey rooms acting as cheap lodgings for scores of realmsfolk, from all walks of life.

Avoid. This is less of an inn and more of a flophouse for the dangerous folk that call themselves 'adventurers'.


Less of a pub and more of a basement filled the worst of the scum, whores and villians that Arabel can muster. The infamy of this establishment lies in it's frequent use for the numerous thieves guilds, assassins, cults and cabals that have troubled Arabel over the years. If you are in need of a fight, a shadow to hide in, or some item from the darker side of the market, it is the only place to go. Entertainment is rare, no velvet robed bards sing there in fear of thier throats, so expect pit fighters, or the voyeuristc (and dangerous) thrill of observing black clad vagabonds skulking about on their nefarious business. lodgings here are best avoided, as asking for a room only provides a stern look from the dangerous looking regulars, and a store room floor to sleep on.

Interesting. If you need a quiet shadow to work in, you may find a home here. But anyone else, FOR THE SAKE OF THE GODS, do not go in here for a pleasant drink.


A leftover artefact from the more stable days, this inn is a vast stone and marble house, once frequented by the many nobles of Arabel, but now home to the few who still remain in these turbulent times. Set in the prosperous Gilded District, it still attracts the wealthy folk of the city, and therefore is considered to be a somewhat boring place by this author, full of manners and graces. Sometimes a giggle is to be had when a drunk mage from the Mages Guild a few streets south can be found in here, fooling about with cantrips and generally making a scene. The inn has many plush rooms and luxurious meeting quarters available for rent, but one must have deep pockets to maintain such surroundings. Overall, a rather classy place to take refuge when the streets are overrun by monsters, as is sadly common these days.

HOW much for an ale?!


A strange inn and with odd atmosphere tucked away in the northern backstreets of the Gilded District. Home to the lesser denizens of this wealthy quarter, it has a few pokey rooms for hire, as well as an oddly plush room off the main lobby, which seems rather out of keeping with the rest of the establishment. However, the room is always pristine and the bath water is kept warm and perfumed. Chel Miller the landlord keeps a good cellar, and also many artefacts from Arabel's checkered past. One can see a genuine Eclestian Order uniform up close for instance, without the fear of a swift burning. Worth a look. Also, for some reason, doorway of the inn is frequented by odd adventuring sorts and worse, which makes this author feel rather uneasy about the true nature of this little pub.

Cheap and cheerful. A quieter option for the more gentle adventuring type looking for a quiet drink and lodgings. Weird goings on there though, so best not to linger there too long.


The last bastion of Cormyrian nationalism in the Free State. Once the hotbed of Cormyrian politics and action during the civil war, now a home for drunken deserters and ancient Purple Dragons too tired and old to leave Arabel. A pleasant enough place with a roomy hall and a fine cellar, but expect some old war dog to chew your ear off about the war and the 'greatness of Cormyr'. Due to it's location in the Western Quarter, few adventures can be found here, except the odd wandering noble and others seeking a quiet meeting place without the strangeness of the Wild Goose or the savage gloom of the Broken Bottle. Mostly frequented by merchants and the well-off citizens of this trade district, adventuring sorts are looked down on as trouble makers.

Good ale, fine wine... but gods, those Cormyrians drone on and on...


The shadiest bar in all of Arabel. Only criminals and the wicked hearted share a drink down in the Sewers bar. A hodgepodge of odd patrons resides in this “tavern” including a pimp, his hoe, gangsters, and vagabonds. Murmurs of evil deeds echo around the damp and greasy walls as tattered sheets are laid out on the floor for costumers to catch their sleep. The most recognizable feature of the sewers bar is a pool of sludge, which greets newcomers at the entrance. If you know what’s good for you, won’t step in the slime. The sewers bar is not a place you would take the family for an evening dinner but if you’re escaping the law of the city above…..this is the place for you.

The beers tastes like it was strained through orcish underpants, but... hells, what was I expecting?


Set in the rural and folksy outskirts of the city, the Night Wolf is dark and dingy place filled with grumbling farmers and tired labourers. The inn has a district countryside feel to it, with game on the menu and some wholesome and sturdy ales on tap. Adventurers seem to avoid this tavern, except for the odd traveller leaving the city using it as a last watering hole, or the few rangers and roadsmen who take lodgings there. This author has always found such folk rather unsettling, and therefore best to avoid their strange and wild ways. Other than that, you find yourself a good mug of ale and a warm, cheap bed for the night if you can stomach the constant howling from the nearby woods.

A country pub for country people. Once saw a malarite gut a whole boar right there in the bar. Delightful.



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