Now that the pesky and soon to be forgotten fungus, flea and pestilence problems are behind us, The Pickled Spinster Inn of Stinging Tree Hollow, is now offering rooms to adventurers, refugees and those in the midst of a flight from justice.

We offer grand amenities for Outlanders to rest their weary heads and store recently unearthed antiquities from the constabulary until they can be properly appraised and safely carted away under the cover of darkness. Carts and absconding labor not included in the cost of a room.

We are located just down from Kingsport, across from Deep Ravenswood and upwind from the swamps. Our room rates are affordably low with a current price of zero. Not all adventurers have established themselves with pockets of coins and would like to be of assistance. We also can’t guarantee you won’t wake up dead in the morning, so this seems the best compromise.

If you are interested in accommodations before continuing the next leg of your journey, or need “sanctuary” because you are innocent of all charges, feel free to send myself or Alley Oop, a missive by post or carrier pigeon and a room shall be fumigated and prepared. Rooms come unfurnished, but the bar is stocked and both the crafting pavilion and the Public Chest of Cast Off Riches and Overstocked Items are available for your crafting needs. Not responsible for any crafting related mishaps that might arise.

For those who feel more at home and safer within the confines of a penal establishment, the Bastille of Stinging Tree Hollow is also available and comes complete with bedroll, bowl of gruel and pillory that faces the morning sun.

Serving the realm since 519 or thereabouts.

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Now that we have those incidents behind us, let us throw open the doors of the Inn to masses. Even comes with servicable bathtub and wooden ducky.

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For those that might need a little more confinement in there lives, the Bastille makes a lovely choice. Featured fumigated bedrolls, water bucket privy and spacious basement for storing items the constabulary isn’t supposed to see.

We can’t do anything about the Town Drunk next door, but he’s harmless. For the most part. We think.

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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