Deep within the grim alleys of the Slave Trade District, behind soot-stained buildings and crumbling cobblestones, stands Rusty Lock Tavern—a place that harbors the darkest side of Dergorai. Unlike Shackles and Whisper, where deals are struck, this is a gathering place for those with nowhere else to go: runaway slaves, mercenaries, black-market dealers, and desperate souls willing to risk everything for a chance to change their fate.
This establishment does not advertise itself—those who seek it already know where to look. No signs, no directions. Just a heavy, rusted iron door, dented and scarred, as if someone had once tried to break in—or perhaps, to escape.
Atmosphere and Interior
As soon as you step through the massive doors, you are engulfed in damp, stale air, laced with the scent of rancid beer, wet stone, and blood. The dim light comes only from a few oil lamps, flickering unevenly, casting long, wavering shadows on the walls.
The tavern’s ceiling is low and oppressive, supported by massive wooden beams, many of which have blackened with age and moisture. The stone floor is cracked in places, and in the darker corners, the remnants of past brawls are evident—dried bloodstains, shattered mugs, and even the occasional lost tooth.
The main bar, run by the old dwarven barkeep Drozg the Mute, is nothing more than a massive slab of stone, seemingly impervious to the countless blows it has endured over the years. Behind him, rows of unmarked bottles and wooden casks hold thick, murky liquids—the kind only those with no other choice dare to drink.
The furniture is battered and worn, each bench and table bearing the scars of past skirmishes and betrayals. The farthest corners of the tavern remain shrouded in darkness, allowing those who wish to remain unseen to disappear into the shadows.
But the most sinister feature of Rusty Lock is the Well of Voices, hidden at the back of the hall. This deep pit, covered by a heavy iron grate, leads into the forgotten lower levels of Dergorai. Some claim that if you stand beside it in silence, you can hear the wails of those who were thrown down. Others believe it connects to ancient tunnels, while some insist it is simply a convenient place to dispose of unwanted witnesses.
Tavern Menu
- “Rotten King’s Blood” – A harsh, nearly undrinkable moonshine with the acrid scent of mold.
- “Rusty Tankard” – A black ale that tastes of coal and aged iron.
- “Nameless Stew” – A thick broth whose ingredients are unknown—and best left that way.
- “Final Sip” – A poison disguised as a drink, available for oneself… or for someone else.
Notable NPCs
Drozg the Mute
“Words are expensive. Sometimes more expensive than life.”
The owner of the tavern, an old, hunched dwarf whose throat was long ago cut—though he somehow survived. Now he communicates with sharp gestures, curt nods, and the occasional hard knock of a mug against the bar. No one knows whose side he is on—he doesn’t sell information, but he seems to know everything that happens in the district.
Tarlos the Cursed, Frequent Patron
“Names don’t matter here. We’re all just ghosts.”
One of those who lurk in the shadows of Rusty Lock. He does not call himself a runaway, but his scars tell a different story. He is always watching, rarely speaking, but occasionally he offers deals to those who appear desperate enough.