Carlos Leon found himself in a depressed state — a personal relationship was stalling and his career seemed directionless.
What he craved was an escape, one inspired by the fantasy worlds he devoured as a child and continued to consume into adulthood. Think those inspired by “The Lord of the Rings” and Dungeons & Dragons, fantastical spaces filled with wizardry, wild creatures and, most of all, tales of adventure.
Lacking any real-life dragons to slay, Leon began attacking metaphorical demons by disappearing into these imagined universes. He found comfort, at last, by transforming his apartment bedroom into a Medieval bar for his roommates and friends. With limited economic resources, he began scouring online marketplaces to surround his Murphy bed with a cheap wooden table, a budget chandelier, battery-powered candles and modest wall sconces.
And thus, the first iteration of what would become Squirrelor’s Tavern was born.
“I was craving an atmosphere of warmth, coziness, camaraderie and food and beverage,” Leon says. His childhood nickname? Squirrelor, which he also uses as his gaming name.
“And I was hunting for it everywhere,” he adds. “The closest thing I got was an Irish pub. But I realized what I was really after was a tavern that you see in fantasy tales — a Prancing Pony, or any run-of-the-mill Dungeons & Dragons tavern.”
Today Squirrelor’s Tavern is a more polished affair, although it still maintains a do-it-yourself charm. To step into the pop-up fantasy pub — hidden in an upstairs room of a downtown Los Angeles sports bar — is to be welcomed by fake cobblestone flooring, flickering electronic candles, old-timey, slightly Gaelic music, and walls and shelving filled with odd ephemera, including skulls, plastic animal skeletons and a bevy of squirrel-related art.
And puzzles. They’re everywhere. Wooden boxes and mini chests sit locked on bookshelves, where one will instantly spy scrolls hidden in bottles or books that appear to be concealing veiled messages. And don’t be surprised if that picture is cloaking something behind its frame.
The first time I set foot in Squirrelor’s Tavern, it was instantly familiar, so much so I felt as if I had already visited it. In a way, I had. Raised on fantasy games and Dungeons & Dragons novels, I too had longed to venture into a fantastical pub, the kind of place where strangers instantly become friends over a pint and exaggerated stories, and where swords and shields dot the walls. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll discover an adventure to embark upon, or perhaps your evening will simply be filled with drinking shanties.
Such is the vibe of the tavern, which taps into our renewed interest in fantasy. Running since March and extended through at least the end of October, Squirrelor’s Tavern has arrived during the 50th anniversary of Dungeons & Dragons, and when television series such as “House of the Dragon” and “The Legend of Vox Machina” continue to bring sword-and-sorcery stories to new audiences. Also, “Dungeons & Dragons: The Twenty-Sided Tavern” has become a theatrical hit in New York, and will begin a touring production in 2025.
Squirrelor’s Tavern has more humble ambitions. This is a gathering spot for puzzles and a light, escape room-inspired narrative with some immersive theater trappings — but it understands that drink, food and games, as well as heroic, mysterious myths, are timeless.
“It strips away all the stimuli technology that you are drowning in when you go to a bar,” Leon says.
The space, instead, is largely an invitation to play. A night at the bar runs $150 per person and contains about a three-hour narrative. As you’re seated, you learn, via the menu, that Squirrelor’s Tavern sits in the midst of a kingdom that has been thrown into disarray, with the peaceful elves losing power amid multiple warring factions. You’re invited to lean in, if you like, and if you do you’ll discover that throughout the tavern are hidden clues for those seeking to join the rebellion.
After all, no Dungeons & Dragons-inspired bar would be complete without a quest. The pub is full of narratives. A coat hanging on a wall hook turns out to be one that was left there in haste, with notes between distant lovers still residing in the pockets. I went to Squirrelor’s Tavern solo and was invited, at times, to join others in light social games — a bartender may hand out syrupy shots if participants can uncover the likes and dislikes of a stranger — but mostly focused on the bar’s underlying story as a space sympathetic to those fighting for the good of the kingdom.
Here, a guest book may be anything but, and cipher puzzles may reside in knickknacks while shields may turn out to be more than just decoration. To uncover the secret narrative of Squirrelor’s Tavern should take you about half the night, depending, of course, on how much drinking and socializing you partake in. You can also opt to simply interact with the cast, or solve an assortment of puzzles divorced from the main story. There’s also a three-course meal of simple pub fare — think pretzels, wings and sausage plates.
In addition to Leon, now general manager of downtown’s First Draft Taproom & Kitchen, where Squirrelor’s Tavern resides in an upstairs nook, the fantasy pub was the creation of Taylor Frost and Alicia Minette, who bring experience in event production and television and theatrical fabrication. The team, ranging in age from their mid-30s to early 40s, bonded over a love of immersive entertainment and began developing the idea of a full-blown Squirrelor’s Tavern during the 2023 Hollywood strikes when work began drying up.
Frost led the design of most of the puzzles, having also contributed to the narrative development of numerous live-action role-playing games.
“The escape rooms I love the most are not the ones that have the hardest puzzles,” Frost says. “They’re the ones that are the most immersive and story-driven. With the tavern, we wanted to give it a choose-your-own-adventure vibe.”
There are now two core storylines running concurrently at Squirrelor’s Tavern, the second geared toward returning guests who want to further develop the narrative. If all goes according to plan, the team hopes to create a third, and to someday be successful enough to run the tavern as a hangout space when it’s not hosting its primary ticketed event. For now, Frost says the bar is breaking even, necessitating an one-day-at-a-time approach.
But Leon believes the concept appeals far beyond those familiar with a 20-sided die. “Every single person that I speak to that has seen the tavern or I show the tavern to has said, ‘I want to go there.’ It’s a human craving for an immersive escape that’s centered around interaction. Yes, there are puzzles and storylines, but personally my favorite part is just sitting and living in the space. You forget you’re in the second floor of this little sports bar in downtown L.A.”
The spell is only broken when the night ends, not with an out-of-control orc or goblin but with something far more mundane: a bill.
