The Warthog’s Last Beer
Perched on the edge of the world, and one splinter from falling off it.
I Nearly Fell Off the Bleedin’ Porch — And I Was Sober
Aye, I remember the first time I staggered into The Warthog’s Last Beer. Thought the damn place was a hallucination from the cave shrooms I ate three days prior. Whole tavern was sittin’ on a cliff so narrow you could spit ale off one side and hit the ocean — or a skywhale, if yer lucky.
And by Margann’s crusty beard, don’t lean left in yer barstool. The place creaks like a drunk uncle’s knees and sways with every gust. Makes drinkin’ there feel like a strength check — roll high or kiss the rocks.
They say the Warthog himself once ordered a final pint there, then charged straight off the edge after catchin’ his wife snoggin’ a bard. I don’t know if that’s true, but there’s a tusk nailed to the taproom wall with a note that reads: “She weren’t worth it.”
That tavern’s saved more parties and started more bar fights than any holy relic I’ve ever seen. If yer players are gettin’ complacent, or think taverns are just for long rests and loot dumps — drop ‘em off here. Let’s see how well they roleplay when the wind tries to shove ‘em into the sea.
📌 Want more cracked taverns and drink-drenched danger?
👉 Step into Mike’s Tavern Toolshed for modular madness — or yell at me directly through the contact page. We take complaints in ale form.
What Ye Get When Ye Use It
The Warthog’s Last Beer ain’t a backdrop — it’s a character. Use it to shake up yer downtime scenes, split the party sideways (literally), or sow the seeds of a high-seas cliffside campaign. You’ll find it clingin’ to a half-collapsed cape, held up by ropes, prayers, and sheer dwarven stubbornness.
Tavern Details:
Built on a razor-thin cliff overlooking an endless sea
Uses ship masts and rusted chains to keep from slippin’
Always cold, always windy, and somehow always full
Bar lists 3 degrees westward — spills everything left
Haunted? Maybe. One table’s never been dry.
Patrons You Might Meet:
A skywhale harpooner nursin’ one arm and three regrets
A bard takin’ storm recordings for their next sad song
A tiefling cartographer obsessed with vanishing coastlines
The tavern's dog. Who walks on the roof. Upside down.
Triggers, Twists, and Tumbles
Here’s what might go wrong — or right — the moment yer party steps in:
The Cliff Shifts: An earthquake hits. Half the tavern leans. A patron falls. The players are asked to finish his drink.
The Fog Walks In: A hooded figure enters with no footprints. They order the “Warthog’s Widow” — a drink no one’s made in 200 years.
The Railing Snaps: Mid-toast, someone’s chair breaks backward. Reflex save. Fallin’ saves. Or a grapple from the one-armed harpooner.
The Warthog Returns: Someone just heard snorting. Loud, angry snorting. From below the cliff.
Use it as a rest stop, a setting for rumors, or a campaign pivot. A letter pinned to the dartboard leads to a drowned tomb. A bard’s song about a ghost ship ain’t just lyrics. And the tavern? Might just start movin’ one morning. Inch by inch.
By Grabgar’s Hammer, Drink Somewhere More Boring
The Warthog’s Last Beer is for the bold, the dumb, and the bard who thinks they can walk a tightrope while playin’ the flute. Add it to yer next game and let the cliff do the talkin’.
👉 For more chaos in digestible chunks, visit the Tavern Toolshed, ask yer fool questions at the FAQ, or send a curse-worded missive to Mike’s scroll box. I’ll read it if it ain’t soggy.
FAQ
Q: Can players fall off and die here?
A: YES. Don’t be a pebble-countin’ coward. But give 'em a reflex save and a shot at a dramatic rescue.
Q: Is there magic holdin’ this place up?
A: Depends. Could be old sea runes. Could be pure dwarven spite. Let yer players argue about it.
Q: What happens if someone casts Fly inside?
A: The patrons start bettin’. The barkeep starts pourin’. And someone’s gonna get dunked in the ocean, guaranteed.
