A Tavern at the End of Time

The air crackles with a strange energy as you step across the threshold of the tavern. One moment, you were on your journey—a battle-worn adventurer, a wandering scholar, a rogue with secrets too deep to tell. The next, you were here, standing before a place that should not exist.

The Tavern at the End of Time is unlike any inn you’ve ever seen. The wooden beams stretch higher than they should, shifting ever so slightly as if the place itself breathes. Lanterns glow with an otherworldly light, casting shifting colors across the deep oak tables and the bar lined with bottles whose labels bear names in forgotten tongues. The air hums with voices—some from creatures you recognize, others from beings you can barely comprehend.

At one table, a knight in gleaming silver armor drinks alongside a hooded sorceress whose eyes glow like twin moons. A group of pirates argue with an elegant elf over the nature of fate, while a cloaked figure in the corner scribbles notes into a book older than the stars. The bartender, a broad-shouldered man with eyes like twin galaxies, polishes a glass that never seems to get clean. He nods as if he knows you, as if he was expecting you.

A sign above the bar reads:

"Welcome, traveler. Time does not move here, but your story does. Stay as long as you wish—though nothing leaves unchanged."

Then the doors behind you creak shut. Not locked, but… different, as if they no longer lead to where you came from. Something stirs deep in your memory, a whisper at the edge of thought:

You have been here before. Or perhaps, you will be here again.

And so, your story begins.