The namesake of Three Sisters only inn still hangs over its wide doors. The large crustation claw has lost some of its prismatic shimmer over the years but serves as a reminder of what monsters lie in the depths of the undertangle.

The Inn is run by Sharpfin and her three sons. The family is known for their loud nature and the ancient curse that has made every family member unlucky at fishing. This has lead to the family to have to be skilled in other gifts such as cooking, hospitality and gossip.

The main hall is a tall circular structure filled with old wood tables and a counter decorated in a thousand shells. In the center is the kitchen where some of the best curry and poke can be found.

Beyond the main hall is the long house that holds seven modest guest rooms. Little Sol, a lumbering giant of a man, is the main son that maintains the room and often sleeps in whatever room is empty. Every morning he offers any guest a haiku and driftroot tea.

Bai Huli was in a fine mood as she entered the Inn. She had a spear with her, and impaled on it was the huge fish that she had caught.

"Here you go" she handed the spear over to Little Sol "That pays for tonight right?" She was practicing her language skills as much as anything. To learn a language you had to use it. "Ah I see Old Redsnapper is setting up his Tonk deck, excuse me"

Heading over to the corner she reflected that taverns were nearly the same everywhere. And a fine place to embed yourself into the local community. Bring in fresh food, buy a few round of drinks, chat with the old folks that felt a little out of it under the excuse of gambling being careful to lose as often as she won, and before long people stopped treating her as 'that stranger'. It was a good formulae and it served her well

Root entered the inn with a content sigh, happy to be in pleasant company once more. He handed some freshly grown vegetables and fruits to Little Sol. It wasn't often he met someone who stood at eyeheight, being a bit on the Tall side even among druids. It was even rater for someone to look down on him, like Little Sol. Refreshing, really. It also meant the door was made with ya'll people in mind, which was a nice bonus.

The people of the inn had been kind to Root, and they'd figured out a deal for his room and board. Seeing as he carried no money, they gladly took fresh produce as payment instead. Not that Root wasn't willing to share it for free, but Sharpfin insisted on fair trades.
This suited Root fine, as well. Not everyone lived in shared communes like his people, and he respected that, even if it was strange to him at times.

Looking around, the druid saw his fellow world Traveller Bai Huli in the middle of some gambling.
He decided not to disturb her for now, sitting down at the adjacent table, nodding to her and her gaming companions, before leaning back and simply taking in the relaxed atmosphere. He  floated somewhere between meditating and simply relaxing. Life was good, all things considered, and he allowed himself a moment to put his mission aside. No reason to fret while there was little he could do.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:52, Tue 22 Nov 2022.

Little Sol gratefully takes the large fish and produce from the travelers. When Bai handed him the fish he mumbled a quiet and simple "thank you". He did the same for Root. In private the large man could be quite talkative but in the main room he was selective about his words. He easily caries all the food to the kitchen where his brother, Starfield was in a cooking frenzy. The smell of curry spices and simmering onions made the gentle giant wish that the midday meal would come soon.

Redsnapper, a free diver that was rumored to have Torsten ancestors, preferred to fish at dusk and play cards in the daylight hours. He gladly dealt Bai in because it often proved to be a rewarding experience. He suspected that Bai might let him win a few hands now and again but he didn't mind. He knew that his days of diving every day were numbered and he would take what coin he could gather.

Having spent most of the afternoon sitting in the sunlight, weak though it is compared to back home in An-Nubiin, Jelas feels a bit warmer and less damp than usual here in Tanglefoot When he walks into the Mantis Claw Inn. Bai Huli has settled in to gamble with Redsnapper, as she does most evenings, and Root is sitting nearby, as he often is.

He sniffs the air, detecting the scent of--what else--grilled fish. He sighs, wishing for a lamb and bean stew. Homesickness is not a productive emotion but hard to shake. He accepts a driftroot tea from Little Sol with thanks and crosses to peer over Bai's shoulder, still trying to understand the course of play.

Salam, Root, keif alhal? How is your day, My Brother? He puts a hand on Root's shoulder and gives Bai a nod and slight smile: Sister, I trust you are well today.

Root smiled warmly at Jelas, and reached into his bag. "Ah, Jelas. Crown shade your path. it is a pleasant day for me. And perhaps for you too, judging by your mood." he said, pulling out a fistsized Apple. Which considering the size of his fists, was more akin to a small melon in size. He made a grunt of effort as he simply pulled the apple into two halves, and then into smaller pieces. "Did you perhaps manage to avoid all puddles, to warrant such inner peace?" he teased with a goodnatured grin and a wiggle of his brow, offering a large apple piece to the at times broody man.

The sound of a horn honked faintly, like the call of a distant goose, presaging the arrival of a group coming in at the docks.  No less than five minutes later, a gaggle of four young adults swept through the door, dripping and laughing and carrying the brackish scents of the swamp.

A tradition of the Three Sisters was that, when the turtles were near, and it was trading season, if the weather allowed, an adventurous crew - often a younger set - would jump in canoes and row hard in races about Tanglefoot, to see who would bear the champion's horn for the day. And since they always rowed the canoes they meant to sell, it was good business. The turtles had been near, waiting for the trading season to start.

Today's winner was a tall, lanky young man, who kept turning the horn over and over in his hands with a half-grin.

The spherewalkers also spotted Coral among the group. A master swimmer and fair trader, she had dark hair that framed her face and the too-bright sea-green eyes of her tribe. A turtle necklace dangled from her neck - a rubbish metal in other spheres, and a rarity here.

As the other three settled into a table of their own and began talking quickly among themselves, she made the rounds, greeting each of the spherewalkers and members of the staff. Coral did not know she was a spherewalker, and whether they knew, that was their own business.