LINE IN THE SAND SALOON
Sir Oaker Okai ap Fiona (Mat)
Dame Honor'ee Resovient ni Beaumayn (Bethness)
 Rank 2; Hearth; Affinity: Primary - Actor, Secondary - Fae

Description
 The Line in the Sand Saloon is located just off Route 157, a few miles northwest of Las Vegas along the desert flats. The building looks the part; it is built of wood, sporting a covered boardwalk along the front lined with hitching rails. Ornate brass grills obscure the windows, tarsnished from age and element. The rustic decor continues inside, where the dull plank flooring is complemented by equally-dull tin wall sconces, lanterns, and the occasional chandelier.

The right side of the building is composed of a large stage; a line of barstools sits just before it, just behind a string small, recessed light-bulbs. A heavy red velvet curtain is typically drawn across the stage when it's not in use; the material looks worn in some places but still retains an antique charm. Against the left wall stands a bar; it is carved out of oak, and an enormous mirror hangs behind it. Atop brass shelves sits stacked bottles of all shapes and colors, reflecting light from the windows, lanterns, and the mirror and splaying it out atop the bar.

Filling the wide space betwen the two walls is a series of round wooden tables and chairs, as well as several high-backed booths that line the front wall near the windows. Near the stage in the corner sits a Forster upright piano, and the far wall is broken by four doors. The right most door leads to a prep room off the stage; the left most two doors lead to a prep room just off the bar. From the center door hangs a wood-burned sign bearing the words 'No Admittance". Should most anyone try to open it, they will find only a storage room behind and a simple throw rug in the center of the floor.

To the enchanted eye, this storage room contains the rath that leads to the freehold proper. A square hatch is embedded in the floor with a single brass ring; it lifts up to reveal a passage that remains darkened no matter what amount of light is shined into it. Moving through the passage is slightly disorienting to those who do not know what to expect or have never traversed it before. In any case, those who do hop, dive, or crawl through will find themselves climbing up out of a very similar hatch in a very similarly-shaped room.

The doorway out of this room holds two batwing-style doors, next to which hangs a wooden plank - a sign. The words burned into the sign read:

Rules of the Establishment
1) Do not impede the right to free expression for any persons so long as it does not endanger any persons.

2) Do ask for the right of hospitality; all are welcome be they commoner or noble. Do not expect that it will be extended to uninvited guests - leave your problems outside.

3) Do not commit acts of violence against members of the freehold or those protected by the right of hospitality unless in the immediate defense of one's self or others; this hold shall be considered neutral ground.

4) Do not damage or destroy the freehold proper, communal property, property owned by members of the freehold or those protected by the right of hospitality.

5) Do not take from these walls property owned by members of the freehold or those protected by the right of hospitality.

6) Do stand responsible for any invited guests that you bring along, be they mortal or fae. Their actions are your actions.

7) Do not harass the ghosts. They are not friendly, and exceedingly less so to any who should violate the mandates listed above.

Passage through this doorway shall be considered pledged agreement to the Rules of the Establishment.

Beyond this doorway lies the main hall of the freehold. It is remarkably similar to the building above, but a twisted reflection. The stage and tables remain, but the windows look out to a desert vista of swirling sand that is seemingly devoid of life. Along the walls hang oil paintings of coal miners, horses, scantily-clad women bearing feathers, and men playing poker. Occasionally, these paintings shift from one image to the next, with no two images ever being quite the same. Once in a while, these paintings will change to show a series of rail depots or loading stations, with trains eventually pulling into them.

An upright piano still sits in the corner, but it plays itself quietly; though every few moments the notes go out of tune, filling the air with an eerie sort of noise. Bluish-white spectres flicker at the sides of the vision; men in cowboy hats, women wearing corsets and feather boas. These ghostly images sit at the tables, drinking from unfilled glasses; they converse with one another silently at the bar. Rarely, a man in a bowler sits at the piano.

The bar still opposes the stage in this chimerical reflection of the saloon; still carved out of wood, it is adorned with lion's heads that open their mouths to yawn or growl. All the stools are fashioned from the horns and hides of various beasts, some of them exotic. The mirror still hangs behind this bar, though now and again the surface ripples like a pool, reflecting very hazy, silent images from around Las Vegas during the early 1900s. The bottles lined up on the shelves near the bar glow with multicolored light.

The bartender is a gruff, brooks-no-nonsense chimera named Anna. She appears much like a human-sized Raggedy Anna doll, standing five and a half feet tall. She has firetruck-red yarn hair braided in twin plaits, two enormous buttons for eyes, and wears a blue-and-white striped sundress and a pair of shiny black buckle-top shoes. Her 'skin' coloration is mottled and splotchy, ranging from beige to a stained shade of brown. There are ragged stitches running all along her limbs where she was apparently rather-crudely sewn back together after being torn apart. When she opens her mouth, visitors may be surprised to find it lined with rows of jagged, razor-edged teeth. While she will serve drinks to anyone, she rather detests Pooka. She enjoys eating cigarettes, and those who leave her some as a tip may start to find her favor.

The booths on the far wall of the freehold hall are replaced by a single door; this door leads to a long, dimly-lit hallway lined with more doors still. This door is usually locked, as the members of the freehold take residence or do their work beyond it. At the far end of the hallway stands a massive metal bulkhead with a small, thick glass window embedded in the top. Behind lies a wooden pipe stove containing the balefire.

History
 The Line in the Sand Saloon was originally established in 1905, in the heart of what would far later become downtown Las Vegas. It's owner, Phillip McCoy, was a bit of an eccentric - some say deranged. He would sometimes be seen walking alone out in the desert, talking to someone or something. McCoy had a temper, and asking him about his 'invisible friends' was the easiest way to spark a fit of rage. He was also a notorious gambler; these two qualities came to an unfortunate head during a poker game, when Phillip pulled a knife and stabbed a man who had mocked him. In response, the man he attacked pulled out a pistol and shot McCoy dead.

After the murder, the saloon garnered a reputation for being cursed. Late at night, travelers swore they saw Phillip out on the sands, still talking to his invisible companions. A string of thieves and opportunists occasionally broke into the place, stealing whatever they could get their hands on. Every single one fell ill or experienced mortal misfortune shortly after. Townsfolk swore they saw things after midnight: flickering lights through the dirt-coated windows, and pale figures standing in the doorway or sitting on the hitching rails.

Eventually, Abner McCoy, Phillip's brother, sold the saloon and the land it stood on to another businessman who planned to demolish it for a railway station. Oddly enough, he too fell ill and died, and his project was never completed. The saloon stood abandoned - completely furnished but boarded up - for almost ten years. The stories of ghosts and baleful creatures that lived inside folded into folklore, and locals spoke of men who ventured inside only to emerge having been driven mad by a cacophony of whispers...or not at all.

Then, one sultry day in 1911, the clock struck 12:01, and the building simply vanished. Everyone assumed that someone had knocked it down, and everyone simply forgot all about it. More recently, a very similar building emerged atop a stretch of road outside Las Vegas. Nobody could really remember it being there before, but then nobody was really watching.

Hanging over the entrance of this building was a weathered wooden sign; as it swung gently in the breeze, words appeared, sizzling as if they had just been burned into the surface: The Line in the Sand Saloon.

OOC Information
 Those who willfully refuse to acknowledge the rules will have a very difficult time moving through the doorway. Attempting to force one's way through may lead to an arrival at somewhere else entirely. Minor infractions of the rules can be forgiven by any member of the freehold, with or without a demand of restitution. Serious infractions may draw the ire of the spectral residents, who will make all attempts to drag the offender out into the dreaming dunes so that they can exact a very bloody vengeance.

Researching the saloon's history while not impossible, is a difficult task, as most records have been lost to time.