Shoreleave
One of Phelandria's broadest shelves, it boast two main boulevards that run its length as Evenglow curves northward, paralleling decidedly narrower Naval Base below it. And while none of the sailors or legionnaires stationed at the base leave in Shoreleave, they fill its streets and the purses of those who ply their trades in this hub of Imperial activity, serving the military in two critical ways.
First, as every graduate of the War College knows, and army runs on the stomachs of its soldiers. Navies, of course, are no different. Provisioners abound in the Shoreleave, smoking meats, drying fruits, baking hard tack, and of course brewing barrels of ale that every ship full of fresh legionnaires, bound for some backwater, need to survive the journey. Those journeys, being aboard the Imperial Navy's finest ships, all require yards of cloth and untold spans of rope to harness the power of the wind, providing steady income for a half-dozen sail makers or ropiers that ply their trade on the shelf. With space limited aboard, stacked barrels and crates fill ships holds, all made by the coopers working with their lathes day by day. All of this industry gives the squat two and three story buildings of of Shoreleave a bustle that rivals Clinkwell and Smithtown.
As evening falls, however, the military couriers and soldiers hauling supplies - much to the dismay of the Porters' Guild who cannot seem to win a military contract, something about idle soldiers causing trouble - melt into the shadows, replaced by hordes of their off duty brethren. Still in uniform, they swarm the shelf's many public houses and taverns, spending their pay on plain but hearty fair, watered ale, and in rooms rented only by turn of the glass. Bawdy music, as often from out of tune soldiers and sailors as from the city's many bards, fills the street well into the night until the inevitable brawl breaks out, forcing those soldiers and sailors still on duty and charged with keeping the peace to clear Shoreleave, giving it a brief respite before the sun rises, starting the cycle all over again.
Inside One of Shoreleave's Many Public Houses