The Purse
While most of Phelandria's buildings consist of the red stone that chips easily from the Cliffs of Talbourne, much of the old city came from hard white stones, often flecked with green, quarried in the Andorran Mountains and lugged to the natural harbor along the Eldorian Sea nearly a century ago. That city, built up from a broad, flat beach, vanished beneath the fiery weight of Verdun, slide into the sea, littering the harbor floor with the remains of its buildings.
When Roika's engineers built Dockside, they dredged much of the harbor, pulling up the stones both red and white. Those white stones, harder and heavier than their red cousins, became the building material for the first shelf up from the harbor, giving the Purse a look far more regal than the rest of the city. With streaks of green and the occasional fleck of amber or crimson, the buildings here have wide bases, clean lines, and square cut, narrow windows. Like Smithtown, they stand two and three stories tall, their flat parapeted roofs homes to potted ferns and oleander, guarded by the blue-green patina of gargoyles and other statues.
Midday in the Purse
Of course, beyond the diplomats in their embassies, no one lives in the Purse to enjoy its Imperial charm. Its carefully cobbled streets, where one section or another seems constantly under repair, teem with well-dressed merchants, money lenders, and ship's captains by day, but empty as the sun dips, with residents boarding palanquins for the long trip to homes in Amberlane and the Estates District or by foot to their inns on the Market Table. Indeed, after the sunsets, the Lionguard patrols that keep a watchful eye on the fronts of the various warehouses and other houses of commerce take a dim view of anyone they see on the streets.
That does not mean the Purse is without its taverns and public houses, for even bankers and diplomats must eat. These establishments open early, however, specializing in breakfasts or lunches with cuisine from all across the content, closing after the midday lunch or perhaps as the sun begins to dip, their patrons grabbing a quick drink after the work day ends. It even has a few inns, though they while they might include that word in their name, in truth they more resemble boarding houses or private clubs where visitors from the far reaches of the Inner Seas might spend a moon or a season while conducting official business in the financial heart of Phelandria.