Ilisdor walks up to an old building that used to glow through the windows in the rain and snow with a warmth of friendship, beverages, and a warm fire. He swallows a lump in his throat and pushes aside the memories which have slipped into the realm of nostalgia. The front door is boarded up, but an old axe is easy match for the boards. The lock on the other hand… well, it needed a new lock anyway. As the door creaked open, the sunlight shown throw the dust particles suspended in the air. It smelled of mold and rotten coffee grounds. The few spiders found inside were quickly dispatched of with Ilisdor’s trusty sword. Why was he doing this? He asked himself. Maybe the thought that no matter how far friends wander, there should always be a place to return to, no matter where life takes an adventurer. So he would sweep up the place, start a roaring fire, and put on water for coffee and tea. One day he’d get the tables and chairs repaired (or replaced for most of them). He’d get the bar top resurface and paint and… well, that would all depend on who might darken the doors once again. But what the Coffee House had stood for, companionship, would remain. The invitation to old friends and warriors who had felled evil together and stood in the darkness where no other light could be found ran through the four corners of Landroval. But also, the invitation afresh for new adventures to come and sit and rest from their weary endeavors. Ilisdor did not know where this would take him, but it’s not like anyone else was using the Coffee House, so he had to try.
Come in, adventurer! Tell me a little about yourself. Feel free to RP an entrance or not. If you’re a returning friend, tell me how you started at the Coffee House and any memory you have of me specifically.