Story 478: The Ciphered Tavern

The team stood frozen, staring at the intricate decor of the tavern. The wood-paneled walls were lined with odd artifacts: a dusty globe, ancient maps, and faded photographs in gilded frames. The massive iron door they had entered through slammed shut behind them, locking with an ominous clunk. The sound echoed through the room, making the suspended light bulbs sway faintly.

“This place is playing with us,” Ghost murmured from the shadows. His eyes darted to the clock, which ticked audibly, its hands inching closer to 3:16.

Rook turned toward the bar, running a hand along the polished wood. “This isn’t just a place—it’s a puzzle. Look closely. Everything here means something.”

Shadow scanned the vaulted ceiling, her sniper-trained eyes catching faint carvings in the beams. “There’s a language here, symbols... but they’re old. Pre-Modern Era. This tavern’s been here a long time.”