Serpent's End is a seedy inn located in the northwestern outskirts of Reedenford, close to the town gates. It is a location of ill repute amongst the members of the town, but these accusations are often only levied in confidence. The bar is run by Raldon Tarrod, an upbeat and witty man. Raldon's voice is often the singular noise that cuts through the otherwise tense silence generated by the inn's mysterious patrons. The bar's specialty drink is called Anguine Ale, which Raldon claims is made from the venom of a giant snake. A small shot of antidote must be swallowed as a chaser to the drink.
Description
The exterior of the inn is made of a blackened, treated wood, in stark contrast to the brighter woods that compose the buildings around it. Dark curtains are drawn over the curtains at all times of the day, keeping the interior dark, lit only by minimal candlelight. The various circular tables around the inn are in various states of disrepair, but the bar itself is immaculate, and one's face can even be seen reflecting off its dark, stained wood. Various casks, bottles and crates are stacked neatly behind the bar, and a curtain hangs under a doorway in the back of the room, obscuring what appears to be extra storage.
The atmosphere in the bar is generally tense and gloomy, in stark contrast to Raldon's energetic gesticulations and upbeat attitude. The patrons of the bar tend to greet newcomers with silent, unnerving stares.
After uttering the phrase "how many rats can you fit in an adder" to the bartender, customers will be escorted to a back room that houses a variety of smuggled goods, with the emphasis being on illegal drugs. There is a study connected to the back room that contains a hidden trapdoor to a cellar that connects to an ancient underground ruins.
The ruins beneath the inn are primarily made from old sandstone, and strange, primitive engravings are carved into the crumbling stone. The walls have been dug into by a number of chitines led by a choldrith, seemingly originating from a large pit in the back of a ritual-like room. Throughout the halls, old, untriggered traps lie in wait.