Making your way through the base, that is most definitely not a town, you see a variety of small shops, offices, barracks, warehouses, and there as if at the end of a rainbow a lovely looking establishment with some outside table with sun shades, large glass paned windows, and a sign marking it as the "Cantina". Next to it is a lively spot, windows thrown wide, and the sound of chatter, and maybe a bit of carousing, or attempts at it as a rather resounding "
smack" alerts you barmaids who know how to say no. That is most definitely the tavern.
Upon entering the tavern you see several of the boatmen you arrived with laughing as one rubs his jaw and shakes his head. A barmain and large bartender cater to them and the other customers at the bar or large long tables. The smell of ale, meat, and bread cause you tongue and belly to proclaim "here is good" and you take a seat at the bar and are promptly greeted by the barman.

Toblen Stonehill
What'll it be?
Drink and a chat, a meal with drink, or a quiet drink?
The large man is friendly but you notice his hands and arms cary thin scars likely not acquired from simple barrom brawls.