Stumbling Pebble Bar II

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Stumbling Pebble Bar II is a food shop in Mist Harbor. It is located in a ramshackle brown-shingled store in a cluster of shops on Seathrak Harbor in Western Harbor. Its proprietor is Greth Rottgut.

[Stumbling Pebble Bar II] RNUM: 18258
Dried, cracked boards mingle with newer knotted pine planks as they spread across the floor from the swinging oak doors to the white oak bar. Several half-cask chairs are arranged in circles around the room, their backs weathered and cracked, while plump couches face a fireplace that looks as if it has seen better days. A scattering of cracked peanut shells litters the floor around an oversized bowl that is set upon a faded blue rug.


Welcome to Stumbling Pebble Bar II!

Greth Rottgut offers his Menu to browse.
Greth Rottgut exclaims, "Greetings stranger, have a look around!"

  1. a wineskin of aged cactus juice      12. a murky mug of spiked coffee
  2. some murky Troll's Breath grog       13. an orc's kiss cocktail
  3. a stein of rosy hibiscus metheglin   14. a mug of greasy amber ale
  4. a shot of dragonsblood gin           15. an overly rare rolton steak
  5. a stein of yabalithium melomel       16. some greasy pale red broth
  6. a shot of smoky copper whiskey       17. a moldy liver sandwich
  7. a dented mug of thick black stout    18. a shot of deep black rum
  8. a wooden mug of murky red ale        19. a bowl of crackers
  9. a stein of deep brown grog           20. a glass of ice water
  10. a glass of Greth's Special          21. a shot of Incandescent vodka
  11. a cracked glass of absinthe        

  Backroom Menu
  22. a huge slice of chocolate cake     28. a tumbler of Woodland Green whiskey
  23. an iced blueberry tart             29. a tumbler of Jackal's Hair whiskey
  24. a small cup of ginger tea          30. a tumbler of Balefire whiskey
  25. a mug of minty green tea           31. a tumbler of Ramblin' River rye
  26. a cup of rich black coffee         32. a tumbler of Small Batch bourbon
  27. a skewer of spicy grilled shrimp


Greth stretches backward, popping noises emanating from his back.  Sighing in relief, he mutters, "Gettin' old is for the birds, I'll say that much..."  At that moment, the cry of a seagull sounds from outside, and Greth chuckles and calls out, "You tell 'em!"

A tentative knock can be heard from somewhere behind the bar, and Greth ducks out of sight, carrying a heavy parcel.  He returns a short time later without the parcel, but with a happy smile on his face.  He mutters to himself, "Least I can do for the little guy..."

Greth reaches behind the bar and pulls out a small black bottle.  He twists off the cap and takes a long pull, then replaces both cap and bottle.  His eyes water slightly as he lets out a contented sigh, leaning forward onto the bar.

Greth heaves a sigh and begins to count the bottles behind the bar, his eyes furrowed in concentration.  He mutters to himself, counting slowly.  After a few moments, he shrugs his shoulders and gives up.  "Looks like enough, anyway," he rumbles.

Greth leans back against the bar, his arms crossed over his chest, and smiles to himself.  His gaze unfocuses, and his smile grows slightly wider at some pleasant memory.  After a moment, he blinks and looks around, checking on his customers, though the remnants of the smile remain.

Greth nods congenially to a pair of half-elven ladies as they make their way into the bar.  "Welcome, ladies.  Make yourselves at home, and let me know if there's anything I can get you," he greets.  The two nod their appreciation, then settle themselves in a far corner and begin a quiet conversation.