New York City

Pat's Pub

Pat's is a pub located in Brooklyn, New York. Located off a bustling street, across from a small partk, it's easy to overlook--indeed, most people seem to walk right on by without noticing it's even there. At first glance, it appears like your typical Irish Pub--complete with dark oak furniture, dim lighting, brick walls, and old-fashioned decor. It seems almost archetypal--and then you notice the werewolf drinking at the bar, a pair of dwarves sitting in a booth haggling over a cellphone, a couple of closet monsters nursing some drinks in the corner as they try to cram for a haunting exam, the ogre shouting orders in the kitchen, and one of the servers levitating trays with a wand.

Pat's is something of an institution among New York's supernatural community. While it is far from the only pub serving supes in the Big Apple--latest count has over 50 bars, pubs, and taverns registered with the New Amsterdam Veil Council--it remains quite popular with local supes. Part of this is because of the casual, relaxed atmosphere, part of this is because the place serves pretty decent food on the cheap...

But honestly, most of it is because the owner and bartender, Pat Sullivan, books no funny business in his pub. Among a community where people can summon up fireballs and wicked curses with the wave of their hands, Pat's no-nonsense attitude is appreciated. His pub is reinforced with numerous wards he can activate from behind his bar, allowing him to shut down troublesome customers, lock away their powers, or even flicker them over to New Jersey if they really deserve a time out.

Pat Sullivan is himself a burly human in his early 50s, his once-proud mane of firey hair receding and his bushy moustache turning grey. He's still got an impressive, broad build, but he's started to put on some weight with age. Scars cross his face and bare arms, signs of battles past. Indeed, it's believed by many that Pat's a retired hunter who got tired of killing for some reason. Not that he ever hung up his crossbow--that he keeps beneath his bar just in case someone things to start up some trouble in his beloved establishment. He puts on a gruff demeanour, and it's not a bluff--he enjoys his job, and he won't put up with anybody who threatens him, his customers, or his pub.

A common face at Pat's is that of Alistar Hamilton, archmage and former head of the New Amsterdam Veil Council. Alistair is an old friend of Pat's, and was actually the one who inscribed the wards on the pub--explaining their potency, as well as why the wily old archmage seems to be able to violate them whenever he so feels like it.