Ill Draakon

We exit the Munkenhoff into an Estonian light drizzle. The cobblestones are slippery and the air is slightly more chill than it was in Riga. The small alleyway comes out onto a wide street of shops, cafes, bars and restaurants. Tallinn seems to really be playing up their medieval roots, all the names and themes for the restaurants are hailing back to those times.

A few blocks over and it looks like we’re already at the main town square. Yep Raekoja Plats, or Town Hall Square. It’s a wonderfully old time-y feel. Cobblestones all the way from our hostel to here and throughout the square. Tall, old wooden and stone buildings and umbrella’d seating in front of all the restaurants surrounding a gothic, stone town hall. Incredible spot. Really digging Tallinn so far.

We do a lap around the square checking out the grubbing options. There’s a place called Mad Murphy’s right here that I feel obligated to go to at some point while we’re investigating the town. But where’s this Dungeon spot? Oh, here it is under the Town Square. That makes sense. It looks like a pub straight outta LOTR or GOT.

Ill Draakon, let’s take a look.

Oh shit! Check this place out. It totally is a dungeon with stone archways and a bonefide serving wench. She’s ladelling soup out of a huge cauldron as we walk in. Giant stone beer steins and low lighting. I think Agent Oogie has found a winner here.

We go up to the counter and get the lay of the land. “Yes, yes boys come in, come in out of the cold”, “Thank you”, “What can I get for you?”, “What are the options?”, “Simple medieval kitchen here. Nothing fancy and no complaining”, “Hah sure”, “There’s Elk stew in the cauldron…” she raises the giant ladel and pours it out, “…beef ribs in the broiler, sausages on the grill, this rack is pastries, and we have two beers on tap. Light and Dark. That’s it”, “Well we’ll start with those for sure”, “Which ones do you want. Come on now, no time for dilly-dallying boys, make up your mind.” Haha, she’s ribbing us already, this is great. “Two dark and one light please”, “Food too?”, “Oh yeah, for sure”, “Well come on then. Not many options, surely you’ve figured it out already.”

She goes back to pour the beers and we take a look at the pastries. There are three baskets, not sure what they are. “So what’s the scoop on pastries?”, “You must read the signs. You seem like smart lads. Look at the pretty pictures I drew. Also, there’s no table service, you order everything here and pay here.”

We put our heads together and decide on an assortment of pastries, three sausages and three bowls of elk stew. “Excellent choice, good sirs.” She hands us clay bowls and mugs of beer, a clay pot for the sausages and a plate for the pastries. “Are there any spoons?”, “Any spoons?! No this is medieval times. You grab the bowl and slurp it over the side”, “Ah. Perfect!”

We grab our feast and head to the back room. No one in here. The music is some fitting olden time chants and shanties done simply on lutes and flutes. The elk stew is phenomenal. Hot, thick and hearty. The pastries are really good too, rabbit, chicken and cheese. The sausages are huge but a tad on the fatty side. Good taste though. And some narmz brews to wash it down. It’s near total perfection. The old clay pots, mugs and bowls really bring home the charm.

Not a bad spot for a Viking, Bard and Druid to hang their cloaks after a long, grueling campaign.

There’s a sign to clean up your own tables. No Mess! And a tub to put all the dishes in. While we’re there another red-clothed wench comes from some secret dungeon door and grabs the tub and scurries away. Simple place with just the one person taking orders and serving, one cleaning up, and who knows where the kitchen actually is. Food was excellent. Another great find.

Go in for a second round of brews to finish things off and we’re all feeling warm, full and content. Roughly 13 hit points are recovered. We are awarded with Wench’s Blessing (+1 bonus to constitution and saving throws for the next hour). Kinda wish we’d tried the ribs too but we’re stuffed now. We swap stories of our campaigns and dragons slain, bedding down sirens by the sea and faerie nymphs in the meadows. Huzzah!

There’s still some time in the evening to go on walkabout and scout things out some more. We thank the wench, don our gear and move along. The sky has darkened and the rain worsened. What mysteries await in this old town? We’re on the case…