Brigands Growyards

Cross the bridge out of Harrah's Gate and the Stack falls away behind you. The mechanical hum gives out, replaced by wind moving through dense growth and the steady churn of farm machinery, and the air turns heavy with damp soil, fertilizer, and standing water. This is Brigands Growyards, the controlled agricultural island that feeds all of Aysea, and its scale is hard to grasp until you are inside it. What were once pre-fall homes and golf courses have been overtaken by farmland, container grow-systems, and stretches of engineered forest. Lines of shipping containers, sliced open and braced into growing chambers, rise two and three high into corridors of steel and green.
  Everything about the place is built to protect its function. The coastline, both the open ocean and the inland waterway called the Tideway, is studded with half-buried bunkers carrying mounted guns and observation scopes, and the chokepoints are choked further with the corpses of ships and heaped debris. Patrols run the interior, watchtowers stand over the container lines, and Diesel Jock tribes haul supplies down the main throughways, armed and ready to fight for their loads. Even the forest is a weapon, cultivated dense enough to force any intruder onto predictable, watched paths.
  To most of Aysea, Brigands is an idea more than a location: a place they draw food from every day without ever once walking its rows. Access runs through Harrah's Gate alone, restricted to permitted laborers, overseers, and high-value individuals, with a single guarded seaport in the southeastern corner moving goods directly to Harbormarch and Vestige at steeper rates. The Merican Financial Institute keeps a hardened operations facility here, tied into the outbound flow of everything the island produces. It is more than an accounting post. It is a fallback throne, a place from which the Institute could run the city off its food supply if the Gator ever fell.