H.P.L. Tower - Rooftop Piano Bar - 30 x 30

Home » All Maps » H.P.L. Tower – Rooftop Piano Bar – 30 x 30

H.P.L. Tower – Rooftop Piano Bar – 30 x 30

If you like what you see consider supporting me on Patreon and get a lot of content for your games.

grid & gridless maps
multiple variations (day & night, weather, special)
low & high resolution (70 PPI & 140 PPI)
bonus content like tokens and assets

By becoming a patron you will be able to download VTT files to be used with Roll20, Foundry VTT and Fantasy Grounds.

At the end of each month I publish a Foundry Module that includes all the maps of the current month personally curated by me.

“The piano keys are black and white but they sound like a million colors in your mind”

― Maria Cristina Mena, The Collected Stories of Maria Cristina Mena

Forty-three stories above Manhattan, the Skyline Piano Bar was the epitome of elegance. Crystal chandeliers, mahogany panels, and floor-to-ceiling windows offering breathtaking views of the city lights. But it was the piano – a pristine Steinway – that drew me there every night at exactly 11:45 PM.

I’m the building’s night security guard, and part of my rounds included checking on the bar after closing. The owner insisted on it, especially after what happened to the last pianist.

They say she was playing Chopin’s Nocturne No. 20 when it happened. One moment she was there, her fingers dancing across the keys, the next – gone. The piano was still playing when the staff found her empty bench, the keys moving on their own.

That was six months ago. Since then, every night at midnight, the piano plays itself. The same nocturne, notes floating through the empty bar like frozen whispers. The cleaning staff refuses to work after 11 PM. The bartenders leave early. But I have to stay.

Tonight was different. As I approached the bar for my usual check, I heard the piano playing early. Through the frosted glass doors, I could see a silhouette seated at the bench. But when I entered, there was no one there – just the keys moving up and down, and a half-empty martini glass on the piano’s polished surface, lipstick stains on its rim.

The temperature dropped suddenly. In the reflection of the windows, I saw her. She was beautiful, ethereal, her evening gown shimmering like starlight. She turned to me, smiled, and patted the bench beside her.

I shouldn’t have sat down. I shouldn’t have watched as her ghostly fingers guided mine to the keys. But the music was so beautiful, so haunting. We played together until dawn, the nocturne becoming our duet.

Now I understand why she never left. The view is magnificent from up here, the music is eternal, and the audience… well, they’re dying to get in.

I don’t mind sharing the bench anymore. After all, every great piano bar needs its regular performers. Even if we’re not exactly alive to take a bow.

With this map you get: