Ah, the Hive! A back-alley district where the market becomes the harbour. Narrow coiling streets full of ivy and thorn brambles, the sound of seagulls, and the stench of seedy characters. The district has some shady inns, like the drunken seagull and the wooden peg; black markets held in nameless streets; hidden warehouses selling exuberant machinery.
Tradesmen knit closely together here in a myriad of guilds and clans. Different streets are ruled by different gangs that are constantly at sword's point; small-scale wars are waged at night in the streets, or during daytime when a square turns into an open battlefield of men clutching axes, clubs, knives, knocking each other's eyes out. The most renowned of these squares is Offing Square, a stone's throw away from the harbour. Here the butchery is located and the cattle market is held, selling livestock and leatherware. The pauperhouse is located here as well. The beggars are habitually rounded up by Bill to cast their vote at the town hall. Most of the time this square and the surrounding streets is in total shambles, full of rubble and barricades from the ongoing conflict between Bill's boys, Butch's boys, and Craddoc's boys.
If one were to get "accidentally" murdered, this would be the place. A cart blocking the alley in front of you, a cart in the back, and archers on the rooftops hurling stones and firing bolts. With no way out. Some years ago, an official airship foundered in the brigands' hive, bringing on an insane mob that tore the ship's crew apart, or held then for ransom. A strife ensued, igniting the whole of the market, and soldiers from Siren's peak were sent to the rescue. Many of them were trapped in the maze of alleys and died. In return, the soldiers burned down entire districts, withheld food distributions (starving a great lot of the more innocent residents), and imprisoned whomever they caught, though many could escape.
Relationships haven't improved since. Official instances tend to avoid the brigands' hive.