Dante's Inn

Dante’s Inn

Dante’s Inn squats along a narrow stretch of the Plank, loud enough to be found by sound alone. Laughter, shouted arguments, rough singing, and the clash of tankards spill out through its always-open doors, mixing with the stink of tar, salt, and smoke that defines the district. The building itself is old timber and dark stone, its exterior scarred by knife marks, scorch burns, and symbols that may or may not be gang tags—no one has bothered to clean them off in years.

Inside, the inn is raucous and unpredictable. The common room is packed tight, low-ceilinged, and perpetually warm, crowded with Tieflings and Dragonborn shoulder to shoulder at scarred tables. The air is thick with whiskey fumes, spiced ale, and bravado. Music breaks out without warning: a battered lute, a stamping rhythm, or someone being hauled onto a table and ordered to sing. Refusing is usually a bad idea—but so is singing badly.

Violence is casual and unevenly enforced. One night you might be handed a drink and welcomed like family; the next, you could be dragged into an alley, relieved of your coin, and left nursing bruises. Most of the time, both happen in the same evening.

Behind the bar hangs a large painting of a grinning devil’s face, all sharp teeth and knowing eyes. The smile seems to follow patrons as they move, and regulars nod to it like an old friend. Outsiders often assume it’s a joke. It isn’t.

Unbeknownst to most of the city, Dante’s Inn is the primary base of operations for the Hellish Maulers gang. Nearly everyone drinking there is a member, an associate, or someone too useful—or too dangerous—to turn away. Deals are made in plain sight, coded in song requests, drinking games, and who pours whose glass.

The second floor contains a handful of small, cramped rooms for rent, used by sailors, drifters, and low-level Maulers. The walls are thin, the locks unreliable, and privacy is more a suggestion than a promise.

The third floor is another world entirely. Hidden behind reinforced doors lies the lavish office of Nefertiti Swiftbane, the Hellish Maulers’ leader. Rich carpets, polished wood, infernal art, and carefully arranged ledgers stand in stark contrast to the chaos below. Her door is never unguarded: two dragonborn sentinels, one black-scaled and one red, stand watch at all times—silent, armored, and unmistakably lethal.

Dante’s Inn is not a place you stumble into by accident more than once. If you keep coming back, it’s because you belong—or because the Maulers have decided you do.

1. Bartender — Virex “Flintglass” Calzano

Race: Tiefling
Appearance & Manner:
Virex is a rare olive-skinned tiefling, his swept-back horns mostly hidden beneath long, curly black hair that falls into his eyes when he leans forward. He never stands still. Glasses spin across his knuckles, bottles flip end-over-end, and he often sets a drink alight mid-pour, letting blue or green fire dance across the rim before snuffing it out with a snap of his fingers.

He treats the bar like a stage and the crowd like a willing audience.

Personality:
Smooth, theatrical, and sharp-eyed. Virex remembers faces, debts, and insults equally well. He pretends not to notice crimes committed under his nose—unless Nefertiti’s interests are involved.

Hook:
Knows who belongs at Dante’s Inn and who doesn’t. If he stops juggling when the party enters, someone upstairs has already noticed them.

2. Serving Wench — Lissia Petalgrin

Race: Tiefling
Appearance & Manner:
Lissia is a buxom young tiefling with soft pink skin, bright green hair tied back with ribbons, and a perpetually jingling apron. She glides between tables with practiced ease, pouring drinks, laughing, and leaning just close enough to invite tips.

Coins dropped into her apron are acknowledged with a wink. Coins not dropped may be retrieved by her astonishingly dexterous tail, which might deliver a playful slap—or quietly lift a purse.

Personality:
Cheerful, teasing, and far more observant than she appears. She never breaks her smile, even while causing minor chaos.

Hook:
Lissia hears everything. She trades gossip for protection, favors, or especially shiny coins.

3. Drummer — Old Silverbeat

Race: Dragonborn (Silver)
Appearance & Manner:
Known simply as Old Silverbeat, this elderly dragonborn has dull, pure silver scales worn smooth by age. His eyes are cloudy and unfocused, and he moves slowly—until the drums come out.

When he plays, his hands strike the small, bongo-like drums with astonishing speed and ferocity, snapping the room back to life. The rhythm is primal, thunderous, and impossible to ignore.

Personality:
Gruff, laconic, and deeply respected. He speaks little, but when he does, the bar quiets.

Hook:
Silverbeat senses tension before it explodes. When he starts playing unexpectedly, violence—or a deal—is about to happen.

4. Bouncer — Skerrik of the Long Tongue

Race: Lizardfolk
Appearance & Manner:
Skerrik is a short but powerfully built lizardfolk, resembling a broad-shouldered monitor lizard standing upright. His scales are mottled brown and green, scarred from years of bar fights. His most unsettling feature is his thick, forked tongue, which he flicks constantly while watching the room.

If someone ignores him, the tongue snaps out—not to taste the air, but to slap them across the face.

Personality:
Literal, patient, and brutally efficient. Skerrik gives exactly one warning.

Hook:
He enforces the Maulers’ rules. Anyone escorted out by Skerrik doesn’t come back unless Nefertiti allows it.

5. Pawnbroker — Marra Ashcoin

Race: Half-Dwarf / Half-Tiefling
Appearance & Manner:
Marra Ashcoin is squat and solid, with a dwarf’s build and a tiefling’s subtle horns curling close to her skull. Her beard is short and braided with iron rings, and her eyes are always calculating. She conducts business right at the bar, spreading jewelry, weapons, and odd trinkets across the counter like a private auction.

She appraises quickly, names a price without flinching, and keeps a dagger within arm’s reach.

Personality:
Shrewd, no-nonsense, and utterly fearless. She does not bluff—and doesn’t care if people know it.