The Thirsty Throat

Once described as "a pile of wood taking its own lazy time falling into the street", this ramshackle dive is crowded, dark, and smells of stale beer. All its mismatched furniture is bolted down to prevent their use as improvised weapons, but fights are rare; the Throat's patrons are quiet men there to drink themselves to sleep on tankards as large as their own heads priced at one copper each.

Of note are the Throat's washrooms: patrons climb down a ladder into a little antechamber that opens right into a harbor-bound sewer channel. It's an ideal place for exchanging items on the sly, dumping incriminating objects, or easily getting into the city's sewer network.