The Weary Hearth is barely on what one would call an alley and only can be associated with the Street of a Hundred Taverns because one can see its front door, if the sun is just high enough and at the just the right angle in the proper season from the famous street.
In the Docklands, the Weary Hearth is nickname given to the long forgotten proper name of the tavern. The sodden and soft wood shingle, like the door, barely hangs from the rusted iron scrap clinging to rotten wood. The customers of the Weary Hearth bear a lot in common with the name: they are often weary of life, job, love, and sobriety.
But seeing the tavern's miserable customers and its chamberpot streaked façade belies the quality of wine, spirits and mead served. Where one will expect to find the worse rotgut, one instead finds a collection of Imperial wines from all over the Empire and a fruit laden white wine and vodka drink that the owner Nello Dilberto, an old Tilean wine trader, makes himself. Dilberto smuggles a lot of his spirits and wines past tariff collectors and bailiffs. He is often left with wines that, all of average quality, can't be sold to in market to the more refined palate of Altdorf or the more cautious innkeeper, and by cautious one should understand as not to be caught by the tax collector.
Nello employs three women in the bar that double as whores. The women have regulars and often turn an uninterested eye to anyone walking off the street. Pray that you don't catch their interest however. While one may likely find company for the night for the cost of a meal and a few drinks, if her 'regular' were to find you, it's provocation enough for a fight. And the bar bears the evidence of quite a few quarrels over the girls.