The tavern itself was large but crowded nonetheless, with half of the open space above the bottom floor dedicated to an overhang from which more ponies could be seen, hanging over the bannisters to see what was going on. There was an iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling overburdened by long used candles whose wax was melting over the sides like a frozen waterfall. It was held by a chain that led to the tavern counter from which a surly looking pony surveyed the goings-on. There were an awful lot of eyes on him at that moment.