The Full Set

Back when Nottingham was just a regular city within the country that was then known as England, there used to be whispers about The Full Set. The elderly would shake their heads and mutter to one another whenever they caught sight of its neon badger-shaped sign, insecure schoolboys would brag about how familiar they were with the tattooed serving girls, and any man whose wife heard he had been patronising the establishment could expect at least a few nights of microwaved leftovers for dinner. The owner, Lizabeth Peach, rather than being afforded the respect that one would expect for a successful business owner at the young age of twenty-six, was liable to receive as many flecks of spit on her shoes when she walked about town as she was derisive catcalls.

When the Sunset came and society dissolved, along with most of its old-fashioned and unnecessarily stringent laws regarding certain forms of commerce, the whispers surrounding The Full Set were allowed to flourish into fully-voiced words, usually accompanied by unsubtle nudges and winks. Thanks to the tight-knit nature of the bar staff, as well as their remorseless and unforgiving treatment of trespassers, the establishment managed to survive the early chaotic days of anarchy in the UK, and was back in business not more than two weeks after the long night began. Ten years on, it is still very much in business, still run by Madam Peach, still dealing with troublemakers in largely undiplomatic and slow-to-heal ways. Despite being located quite far out near the edge of New Notts, it does good business most nights, and because of its location it has managed to avoid paying protection money to those who run the settlement. Then again, there are whispers that Madam Peach has a certain special relationship with Emma Randal herself...