Pog mo Thoin

Irish Postindustrialist NeuPunkers and Classic Punks should both like this place just fine.
It looks like the Irish invaded some North American Hellhole, got drunk, and never left.
No power, no water, but head down below ground, and their chemists can serve you anything from biodiesel to a molotoc cocktail, and every drink in-between.
Lots of humans and Dwarves. All Irish.
You pay in Ammo.
The man behind the bar is "Sean" (you can't pronounce his real name), and he'll be the skinny chummer wearing six pistols.
   
Runners can find work going on beer runs.
Typ
Pub / Tavern / Restaurant

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