History
Built into the Skaran docks is a large stone warehouse building known as The Longhouse, which acts as a gathering house and multipurpose building for dockworkers, shipwrights, fisherman, and adventurers. It serves as a combination fish market, trade hall, bar and grill. Just outside the north end (and main entrance) of the building, an enormous trawler sits in a drydock where it’s been since the first owner went bankrupt and the building was bought by its “new” owner, Ame Liadon, nearly 400 years ago.
Layout and Activity
Most of the seating is toward the south end of the warehouse; here, patrons sit and drink ale, smoke, argue, and eat. The kitchen area and bar are along the west wall nearer to the south end of the warehouse. Two games are popular at The Longhouse; backgammon, and a Dwarven tile game called “Brickwork”. The building is never heated, so most customers who intend to stay awhile are bundled in long coats, although heated beer and mulled rum is served in the winter. Fried fish and potatoes are served in parchment cones all year round. The patrons are mostly humans and dwarves, although halflings are sometimes seen there as well. The furniture is sparse, sturdy wood, most of which is covered in carvings and graffiti and shows signs of having been nailed back together more than once. On the southern wall of the warehouse sits the innkeeper's desk near a door and a set of stairs that lead to the first and second floors of the attached building where The Longhouse keeps a small numbers of rooms for rent.
“The Synod”
A single stone table which sits against the west wall near the main entrance is the only exception. Here sit a group of three truly ancient dwarves, mostly blind and half mad, known as “The Synod”. They have been seen to sit here, unmoving, playing Brickwork, arguing, yelling criticism at the board, and making jokes every day, for as long as anyone living can remember. They have never been seen to leave, although The Longhouse is closed for four hours each night. Some have rumored that the Synod were the Longhouse's first regular customers. These old dwarves are willing to talk to strangers, but rarely take them seriously or are capable of remembering anyone who hasn’t been a regular for a few years or decades. Their memory is ancient however, and their addled minds are easily loosened. With some creative cajoling they might accidentally reveal details of an ancient hoard kept by a member of the dwarven diaspora, or the meeting place of the secret order of the Nautilus - a dwarven mystical order of geometers - but none are quite sure of such stories are true or just more cruel jokes by these old dwarves at the expense of some nosy rubes.
“The Board”
Against the east wall are stalls of fish being sold on beds of ice. Here workers weigh, butcher and package the fish in cramped quarters elbow to elbow with one another. Against the wall behind these stalls, dominating the room, is a truly massive blackboard raised up about ten feet off of the ground. “The Board” is nearly forty feet in length and a dozen feet tall, with a wooden gantry way and two attached ladders on wheels allowing for access to the highest portions. Here, between one and four men and dwarves wearing leather aprons, carrying abacus, and covered in chalk dust walk back and forth. They call out incessantly to the crowd and to one another, writing and erasing, arguing with patrons, announcing prices, purchases and penalties. It would be difficult to describe exactly what the boardmen are accomplishing, although the general term for such activity is called “figuring”. Ostensibly, the board is used to convey information to patrons interested in conducting business, while the figurers track and mark prices, transactions, and other important information. In reality, the blackboard is a bewildering mess of knowledge, written in all manner of scrawl, languages, colors and sizes. Its organizational structure is arcane and ancient, but immutable; only someone who has spent a great deal of time in The Longhouse studying the board can make heads or tails of it. Everything is seemingly represented here. The going prices of fish, crab, and lumber. Times and dates of upcoming union meetings, or past events deemed historically significant. Grudges and debts. But also facts less germane to business. Riddles. Sports scores. Half portions of misquoted Eladrin poetry. Recently enacted legal ordinances. The names of several bounties and wanted criminals. Summarized rules of parliamentary procedure. Help wanted notices for workers and adventurers. As well as several coarse jokes which have enjoyed the longevity of dwarves.
In one corner, “DON’T INTERRUPT!” is written in large angry capital letters, circled, and underlined twice. Elsewhere it is written, “Tip your cooks you Gluttonous swine!”, “No spells or preaching inside! Fights OK”, “No soup so STOP ASKING.”, “ALE = 2 SILVER. DON’T CHANGE.” (The last time The Longhouse tried to raise the price of ale was 180 years ago, when the ensuing fight started a fire that nearly burnt the building down.)
The board is frequently used as a kind of classified ad for adventurers. Dangerous delivery shipments, bodyguard work, and other tasks for the armed and risk loving are posted here. Some have rumored that the arcane cluster of abbreviations and strange wording of the board conceal secret code in plain sight.
Bjarte, a boyish man in his thirties wearing mutton chops, is an up-and-coming figurer. His specialty is dealing with hecklers, as he can deftly cut down the brassiest patrons with his searing and cruel wit. He is eager to share some of the more interesting, lucrative, and riskier work available to adventurers, for a small cut.
Mille Liadon
Mille Liadon, the current owner of The Longhouse, is a grim human man in his 40’s, and the 8th generation in his lineage to act as proprietor. He sits at an old clawfoot desk set on a rickety gangway high above the entrance on the northern wall. He rarely speaks while working, although he will occasionally render a verdict on any disagreement that gets too unruly between the boardmen, the Synod, and the other patrons. Mille opens The Longhouse by ringing a bell at 4 o’clock each morning, and leaves promptly at 5pm each day, (at which point the Synod erupts in vulgarity and taunts. “QUITTING ALREADY MILLE?!” “A DAMN SHAME. LAD CAN’T WORK A FULL DAY PUSHING PAPERS.” “CAN’T STAND THE HEAT LIADON?” “YOUR GRANDMOTHER KNEW HOW TO WORK THE HOUSE, YOU GROKKING WHELP. OX OF A WOMAN SHE!”). Mille is famously tight lipped, and hardly ever talks to patrons. In fact, few have much idea of what he does at his desk all day, as the running of the Longhouse, though demanding, is not particularly a matter of paperwork. As the heir of one of the city's oldest lineages, he no doubt possesses a great wealth of secrets. Mille keeps a large brass key to his desk in his vest pocket. Were someone somehow able to access his desk, they would be surprised to find all manner of designs for cannon and artillery, alchemical calculations, receipts and ledgers representing an alarming amount of stockpiled gunpowder.
Minotaur Liberation Brigade
Hekili and Ka, two minotaur, have recently become quiet patrons of The Longhouse and have spent each afternoon there for the past several months. They always sit at a corner booth near the innkeeper's desk near the south end of the building, chatting quietly in Minotaur to one another. Occasionally, a drunken wharf worker or patriot will hassle them, threatening to cut them into “ox tartare” or use some other racially charged terms. For these reasons they usually keep to themselves; occasionally though, they do engage in heated debate with these drunkards. The pair will discretely signal any minotaur who spends a few days in a row at The Longhouse to come over to their table. Following a lengthy process of determining a common relative between their clans, established by outlining elaborate chains of cousins, weddings, disciples, and famous battles or events, Hekili may try to interest the new minotaur in a little political education. He may distribute a small pamphlet written in Minotaur outlining the goals of the Minotaur Liberation Brigade, an armed underground political organization aimed at violently overthrowing the xenophobic Eladrin oppressors of the Empire. Interested persons will be invited to an upcoming meeting in an undisclosed location, where they will have to prove their loyalty to the cause before being trusted with any real information.
Summary
The Longhouse is a place of formal chaos. To such a degree that some of its oldest rituals have a nearly sacred character, no institution may survive as long as it has without certain rules which are followed unwaveringly. An amatuer who manages through ignorance of some minutia to disrupt the process of buying or selling or figuring is liable to get mercilessly shouted down or have a beer-stein thrown at them. Very serious injuries have been incurred by newcomers sitting or standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. That being said, the work of the place is more art than science. Watching the figuring and banter is not unlike watching a chess game or fencing match. Many patrons have their favorite figurers and enjoy debating the strengths and merits of each. The hall is nearly always engulfed in sound. Shouting, writing, joking, giving and receiving orders, but the activity and intensity of the place may wax and wane throughout the day. The Longhouse closes at midnight for cleaning, and business begins again the following day. Ultimately, it is merely a place of business, but The Longhouse has attained the gravity of ages through its long existence.
Thanks to SprayPaintMogadishu for the original idea; I've modified it some to fit my world.