Leongarde’s closest harbour lay before them.
They could see the sailors work quickly to set the fins and side sails back and tie them up as they sailed towards the underbelly of the city.
In order to reach the harbour they had to sail into the opening within the rock.
This would lead them to the harbour that lay within, in a large cavern that opened up and brought them to the underlayer of the city.
There it would dock and they would be able to step off.
The dark rough stone opened up for them and as they sailed into the opening swallowed them whole, floating on the current within and the smooth movement of the tail-fan sail, which gentle movements offered them a soft thrust, allowing them to glide in with care.
The place seemed dark, damp and cold, but was lit partially by Sinderdust that lined the walls with wonderous glowing veins, as if they entered a living breathing creature.
From afar they could discern a the hint of a gentle drum, continuous and repetitive, before other differently coloured lights filled the tunnel as it widened and showed the crystal roof above them, almost like a glass ceiling of sorts. Then the doors of Avelore doomed up out of the darkness.
Two massive stone slabs that opened before them, groaning, complaining as the mechanism that was involved was put to work again. From the side the could hear the cracking of a whip, beating some unfortunate as they sailed out of the cavern and into the open harbour before them. The docks stretching out around them, in a circle, giving access to the underlayer of the city and the stairs to the higher levels.
The Harbour and the undercity was very much that, dark grimy alleyways and streets made up out of miners, water trackers and mist harvesters homes. 
The sailors, women of low repute and prize fighters would drop in on alehouses and seedy taverns. Other lesser professions that were very much needed, but weren’t allowed to be noticed were leather tanners, dyers, slave houses & houses of pleasure. 
Naturally there was a more refined part of the harbour, that’s where the rich went, it was named ‘the Pavilion’ and it was heavily guarded and very selective on who they allowed to enter. It also was run by the one of the most ruthless criminal groups to ‘serve’ the city.
If you looked further you could see young priests proselytised the mercy of the mother, being ignored by almost all whilst in an alleyway around the corner some cheeky little whore sucked the life out of a very content customer.
All in all the Harbour told anyone who paid attention that those living there were dealt a bad hand in life. 
Their lives were harsh, where most of the earnings would be spend on forbidden pleasures and drink to drown their misery and aches in.
It also was clear by the few elderly moving about, that these people died young.


The Stairs brought one to groundlevel of the City. It was set up like a large flower, with certain sections of the city only capable to be reached by the bridges that connected them to the large centre.
It was also known as the Twelve Gates.
Once there had actually been Twelve Gates, but time and restructuring the city lead to some of them being torn down to make room for houses or the space was used in a different manner.
Regardless the name stuck.
An Abreviation of the longer 11 Roads and Twelve Gates.
The gates were truly nothing too special, some practically crumbled by looking at them. Others were well maintained and heavily manned.
But the grand market was set up in the central section. It was where rich and poor intermingled, at the different stalls all sorts of wares were sold, even those of the flesh.
It wasn’t uncommon for the houses of the pleasure district to ‘advertise’ at the market. The fairest, youngest and prettiest ‘flowers’ were send up flirting and leaving ribbons with the name of the House in the pockets of the lusting.
For slaves there was a different market, one more hidden from public view in as while slavery was still frowned upon, it was also regarded as common. They basically were of the opinion that things were fine if you didn’t pry too deeply.
People from all ages were sold here, some willingly went in, others were taken. Once branded, there was little one could do to escape one’s fate.

Not that the poor had it any better. Their district was one of small drafty rooms with walls that were paper thin. Still the promise that everyone had a chance to change their fate offered the people a sliver of hope and they clung to that with all their might.

The rich lived lavishly, in grand houses in a well guarded part of the clockwork city. They had carriers and runners taking them from place to place or employed their own. Their feet never needed to walk more than was necessary and spend their free time in the Gardens or the Lillypond.
The Lillypond; was known as the pleasure district. Gambling houses, drinking establishments for those with money, the theatre, Fencing hall and of course the Courtesans lived here.
Under the shadow of the very place that had once condemned them, the High Castle, a building so large and imposing that it reached into the heavens.