Room rates: 90L for 25 Prims. Spacious poverty strick rooms with a lovely view of how the better half lives.
The Iron Seahorse building has had an unhappy history throughout the years. Once a warehouse in the sherry trade before drinking habits changed, it went through many various uses before briefly becoming home to the “People’s Church of the Builders Open Architectural Plan” an offshoot of the church of the builder led by a charismatic ex-monk named Brother Crabapple, who gave it a new front facade, and who’se short lived theology seemed to certer around building the mind and body by developing a resistance to carbon monoxide. It later seems to have been a house of ill repute.
Having obtained some land in Wheatstone through a few well placed bets in a rigged clank-polo game, Spires found himself having no idea what to put on it. Finding that the old “Iron Seahorse building” was about to be condemned and knocked down, but in largely good repair, he had it lifed by a series of balloons and placed down on the plot, more or less intact, apart from the plumming.
And so, a slumb as gone up. For a mere 90L a week, a man, woman, or nonhuman might enjoy the squaller of rotting wallpaper, the aroma of opium smoke from a certain room on the ground floor, an free fish head stew washed down with strong stout beer at all hours of the day.
Free furniture available as well.