Down a minor side street in the grimy, smog-clogged Ferrous Quarter of Alkenstar lies a squat, nondescript, two-story building whose weathered sign reads “The Barrel & Bullet Saloon. Drinks—Meals—Fireproof Rooms.” Its dingy white plaster and off-centered porch encourage the refined guest to look elsewhere. Indeed, the cosmopolitan traveler who does venture inside is likely to be greeted with derogatory comments from a goggle-clad goblin inventor or by rude stares from a hard-drinking patron long since mutated by the wild magic of the Mana Wastes. To mitigate this reception, the dwarven gunslinger behind the bar, Foebe Dunsmith, is always ready to share a welcoming word and a drink on the house. Even so, this is the kind of bar where an introduction—or a good deal of diplomatic hard work—is necessary to navigate the dwarven desperados, goblin grenadiers, irascible inventors, and hard-drinking hoodlums who make up the unruly crowd of regulars. Jumping into a high-stakes game of bootbeer (an unexplainably popular guessing game in which players try to hide as much beer on their person as possible) or wagering on a hand of cards can win friends, but it can just as easily make enemies. And no night at the Barrel & Bullet seems complete without at least one knock-down, drag-out barfight!
HISTORY
Over a century ago, wainwright Sionnek Sciuln fled Nex and founded a wagon-works on the site that’s now the Barrel & Bullet. The wagon-works consisted of several small buildings, including a stable that still stands in the southwest corner of the courtyard. Over time, a couple of small fires and a sluggish demand for conventional wagons convinced Sionnek that something else entirely was called for. He allied with other refugees, built a one-story brick edifice, and started a building and loan endeavor. As they seeded money into other projects in the Ferrous Quarter, the one-time wagon-works became a popular gathering spot, and Sionnek’s partner, Tenryt, decided to start serving drinks. When a high-profile armed robbery took Sionnek’s life and bankrupted the business, a grieving Tenryt sold the shot-up building to other partners who, in turn, remodeled the main building into a taproom.The saloon’s ownership changed hands every decade or so after that, with each new boss making changes to reflect their vision or fortunes. The original brick walls were reinforced with a variety of materials and plaster, making them sturdy enough to support a second floor. At first, these upstairs rooms were private, but the next owner saw the potential in adding rented rooms to the saloon’s offerings. Later owners converted the courtyard sheds into useful spaces, such as the Bulletworks or the bathhouse. The shooting range is one of the most recent additions, designed by Volessim—a hustler with extensive gang connections who had acquired the saloon after killing the then- owner in a duel—to make money with bets on rigged contests. This idea proved to be his downfall, as it created an opening for the agents of the grand duchess to install Foebe as the owner in his place.
ATMOSPHERE AND CLIENTELE
From the outside, there’s very little to recommend the Barrel & Bullet. The saloon’s street-facing entrance can be accessed via a sturdy wooden ramp attached to a far less sturdy, low, asymmetrical porch. The porch’s effect of cheapening the establishment’s appearance from the get-go is an ironic result, considering it was built to enhance the saloon’s appearance, not worsen it. It was also meant to attract more customers—one owner even had grand ambitions of setting out some simple lounge chairs—but the smoggy Ferrous Quarter isn’t exactly known as a great place for outdoor congregating, and so those plans swiftly fell apart. Currently, the neglected platform’s only function is to hold several of the saloon’s namesake barrels, all empty and rotten.The porch leads directly into the heart of the saloon: the taproom. Although a large chamber with high ceilings and wagon-wheel chandeliers, the taproom still feels cramped and congested. Its tables are often at capacity, with additional patrons standing around and resting their drinks, plates, or cards on barrels. The taproom’s walls are cluttered with faded but colorful murals, clockwork devices in various states of working order, and other bric-a-brac collected over the decades and passed down from owner to owner; Foebe Dunsmith has respected this tradition by adding her own touches while also keeping up all the many curios she inherited.
The taproom’s most arresting feature is an impressively long bar opposite the front doors. This solid slab of jack wood reinforced with iron straps stretches over 30 feet long. From behind this eye- catching altar, Foebe Dunsmith holds court with her sparse retinue of barbacks, servers, and cooks. Rare is the night when Foebe can’t be found behind the bar. On the occasions when she has other matters to tend to (particularly her work as a secret informant for Alkenstar’s grand duchess), one of her two most trusted employees—her cousin Foseerter or her constructed assistant Vuskean (LN agender automaton bartender 4)—ably takes over. Once the saloon closes for the night, the tables and barrels are pushed aside to allow weary or drunk patrons to sleep on the floor (for a reasonable price) under Vuskean’s watchful eye. On any given night, the atmosphere of the Barrel & Bullet feels charged with excitement as well as mild danger, like a raucous party that’s just one spilled drink away from erupting into a full-on melee. Attracting Ferrous Quarter regulars who seek a spot not beholden to the entrenched street gangs, the clientele tends to be assertive and garrulous—hard- edged survivors or workhands looking for a place to blow off steam. The largest crowd of patrons usually shows up in the late afternoon and gradually dwindles until closing, at which point Foebe must invariably ask the few remaining drinkers to go home or pay for a night’s sleep on the taproom’s sticky floor. Those who want to get in on card games and other wagers need to arrive early to catch a spot at the rickety tables, where space is always at a premium. Seats at the bar are likewise a precious commodity.
Most nights, at least one fight erupts, usually with fists and chairs flying and a table flipping over. Foebe does her best to keep the lid on such activities, directing her capable bouncer Ershap to force brawlers out the door before the guns come out. Occasionally, the fighting gets out of hand: patrons cower under tables as Foebe shouts from behind the bar, and at least one window invariably shatters as a body flies through it. If she really wants to return the bar to order in a hurry, Foebe isn’t afraid to fire a warning shot from her dwarven scattergun; the many holes that riddle the ceiling above the bar testify that the rounds fired aren’t blanks. At this, most of the rowdy patrons settle down and return to their pints. The speed with which the taproom as a whole recovers from such calamitous brawls speaks volumes to the roughness of life in the Ferrous Quarter.
