Blagarm doesn't seem to miss a beat. He responds in an equally low tone, "Of cahrse! Why don' we ahll goh dahn an'ava look." He calls across the common room to an adolescent youth leaning against the wall as if he's bored, "You thahr! Britam! Come ovahr hear an'ahrn yahr keep!"
The boy bounds over to the bar, "Yeah Pop?"
"Take care o'th' bar whilst Ah give these gen'lemen a tahr o'th'cellar." With that, he whips off his apron and with a flourish sends it sailing across the bar to smack the boy in the face. As the apron slides clear of his eyes, it reveals an awestruck expression like that from a newsboy who's been suddenly promoted to editor, "Y-y-yes sir!"
Blagarm reaches down under the bar and throws a catch. A second or two later, he opens up a portion of the bar designed to swing up, revealing a little half-door in the paneling under the bar. Swinging this wide, he squeezes his voluminous frame through the opening and makes his way over to a double-swinging door opposite the one leading to the meeting room. He opens it revealing a bustling kitchen and extends a directing hand, "This way gen'lemen."
The group follows him through the door into the kitchen where the smells of food preparation, sweat, and burning embers mingle with the clatter of clanking pots, dishes, curses, and orders.
Blagarm pays no heed to the cacophony and quickly strides to a small cellar door in the corner of the kitchen away from the fireplaces. Opening the door, he makes a gesture similar to the one he made at the kitchen door, "Ah'll goh afahr yah if'yah don' min'"
The door reveals a staircase that is more like a stairwell. Though brightly lit, it is hard to make much of the cellar beneath from the doorway.[sblock=Perception 23]The air carries hints of an odor reminiscent of a bonfire long after it's been put out[/sblock][sblock=OOC]News flash! Anyone following the volcano in Iceland? Pretty wild huh?[/sblock]