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Edgar's Pickaxe and Tankard

Edgar Stonehand opened the tavern twenty years ago after a lucky strike in the eastern seam allowed him to buy the squat stone building near the mine entrance. What began as a two-table alehouse grew as the mine expanded. The tavern has been the site of claim disputes, a collapsed shaft refuge that sheltered a dozen miners, and a brawl that spilled into the street and left three men sleeping in the stocks. Over the years Edgar has kept a careful ledger of debts, favors and small secrets - a practice that keeps the tavern profitable and occasionally dangerous.

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Tavern

Edgar's Pickaxe and Tankard

Edgar Stonehand opened the tavern twenty years ago after a lucky strike in the eastern seam allowed him to buy the squat stone building near the mine entrance.

8Amenities10Menu Items8Known Patrons8Plot Hooks
Edgar Stonehand

Tavernkeeper

Edgar Stonehand
HumanFighter

Keeper's Species

Human

History

Edgar Stonehand opened the tavern twenty years ago after a lucky strike in the eastern seam allowed him to buy the squat stone building near the mine entrance. What began as a two-table alehouse grew as the mine expanded. The tavern has been the site of claim disputes, a collapsed shaft refuge that sheltered a dozen miners, and a brawl that spilled into the street and left three men sleeping in the stocks. Over the years Edgar has kept a careful ledger of debts, favors and small secrets - a practice that keeps the tavern profitable and occasionally dangerous.

Quirks

Patrons sign their tab on a nailboard with their name or mark - failure to pay may result in your name being hammered to the board and the tavern's collectors 'reminding' you. When a miner finds a lucky stone they bring it to Edgar for a 'good-luck burn' - a short, rowdy ritual that ends in spilled ale and a pie being thrown at the wall. Every third night Edgar rings the old miner's bell and calls for an arm-wrestling tournament - losers pay in ale, winners claim a small silver token from Edgar's drawer.

Lore

Locals call the vein outside town the Shiver-Strike because miners new to it complain of cold standing on the skin. Old-timers tell two stories - one of a meteorite that struck long ago and left star-iron buried, the other of an ancient dwarven outpost collapsed and reclaimed by the rock. Whatever the truth, ore from that seam sells for more than its weight in promises, and Edgar's ledger bears the stain of every sample that ever passed his bar.

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