Bar stories, retold as cozy fantasy
The Tavern
The Ember & Oak appears wherever it’s needed most: at the end of a long road, at the edge of a storm, at the bottom of a bad night. The fire is always lit. There is always one more stool.
The Bartender
Nobody remembers hiring the Bartender, and nobody remembers the Bartender ever leaving. Your drink is poured before you order it, and every word you say is heard like the world depends on it. Sometimes it does.
The Tales
Bar stories, the kind told at closing time, poured into a world of knights, witches and wandering things. Each tale starts the same way: someone walks in from the cold.
A First Pour
The door of the Ember & Oak never creaks. It knows better. It opened that night without a sound, and the woman who came in shook the snow from a cloak that had seen three kingdoms and liked none of them.
“Something to forget with,” she said.
The Bartender set down a glass that hadn’t been there a moment before. “We don’t pour forgetting here,” came the answer. “Only remembering. But I promise you’ll like the ending better.”
Reserve Your Seat
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