Black Brine

The Powder Keg Tavern clings to the southern cliffside of Salt Crown like a barnacle blessed by gods and pirates alike. Built atop towering **blackwood pilings**, the tavern stretches out over the crashing surf, with gangways and rope nets allowing small ships to moor directly beneath its stilted belly. The first thing visitors see is the colossal stone skull carved into the jungle cliff—its eye sockets black with shadow, its grin choked by creeping vines and orchids. From cracks in its cranium, plumes of sulfurous steam hiss skyward, the breath of some ancient volcanic force still rumbling below. At night, it glows with amber light, giving the whole tavern an unholy halo. Inside, the Powder Keg is a riot of smells and color: grilled eel on citrus leaves, curried stingray, and drinks with names like Dream of the Leviathan and Sedna’s Mercy—some smoking, others glowing faintly in the dim, lantern-lit haze. The crowd is just as wild: sailors, mystics, criminals, and sea-blooded nobles.

The jungle path opened abruptly onto the cliffside, revealing the Powder Keg Tavern looming over the sea like a drunken sentinel. Perched on thick, barnacle-caked pilings, the tavern jutted out over the crashing surf, its crooked decks swaying with each gust of wind. A series of rope ladders, creaking bridges, and narrow walkways connected the levels like a web spun by some mad architect. Carved into the cliff behind it, half-consumed by vines and centuries of salt, was a **massive stone skull**, its hollow eyes staring blankly across the waves. Steam and volcanic smoke hissed from fissures in the rock, giving the entire place a breath of its own—hot, sulfurous, and alive. Ships pulled in dangerously close, mooring beneath glowing lanterns and above crashing foam. Laughter, strange music, and the smell of spiced meats and magical brews drifted from the open windows. The Powder Keg didn’t just welcome sailors and spellcasters—it **dared** them to come ashore.