Jera

Jera is a major port city in the country of Kinilan. Its position a mere thirty kilometers from the capitol city, Antius, have made it a major centre of import/export trade as well as having a wide variety of luxury goods.

A Walk Through the City

The Docks

Sailing into the city, a newcomer first sees the Tower of Jera, a great lighthouse marking the tip of the Heights - a promonotory that shelters the harbour and is home to a lavish residential district. Rounding the point, a mad hive of activity comes into view, as the ship slows to a crawl and runs up a violet-and-white flag indicating it has passengers aboard. Other ships fly green-and-grey flags signifying shipments of foodstuffs and other parishables, green-and-ultramarine signifying wool, leather and other non-perishable trade goods or violet-and-ultramarine flags signifying dyes, silks and other luxury goods. Before long, a harbour boat rows up alongside, and a harbour pilot and inspector board. The inspector proceeds below decks to check the cargo manifest, while the harbour pilot takes command, directing the ship through the traffic and into the passenger dock.
Disembarking, the passenger finds themselves in one of the nicer areas of the docks district. The whole area smells of the sea, but here there are no warehouses, no clamour and chaos of longshoremen busy at work. A tout calls them over, asking if they need directions to an inn or the bazaar, but they quickly move on, having been warned before they arrived that touts in this city might be pickpockets or worse. They pass by a couple of seaside taverns, a raucus mix of conversation, dice and music spilling forth, and several of the sailors who disembarked with them disappear within. Soon they come to a gently flowing stream - one of several outlets of the Jera Canal leading from the capitol city of Antius.

Canal District

As they press on toward the Canal District, the street rises in a series of broad, low steps, before reaching a bridge crossing the canal several meters above - one of several highbridges that cross the one of the canal's branches with enough room for most barges to pass beneath with room to spare. There are several of these branches in the city, with several long ones near the docks providing dozens of loading docks near the warehouses and throughout the Canal District. Looking down the hill, they see the criss crossed terracotta roof of the Bazaar, interspersed with courtyards, inns, workshops, and tenements - the great market that has grown to encompass most of the district.
As they proceed down the hill, the sound and smell of the Bazaar rises to meet them - the cacaphony of vendors calling over customers, heated arguments over prices, the broad sweeping tones of dozens of street performers playing in improvised harmony, the smells of baked goods, fresh spices, fine perfumes and more all intermingling. One can always spot someone experiencing the Bazaar for the first time, because this wall of sensory overload leaves one in a bit of a daze...one the traders here can readily spot, and are eager to take advantage of. Many are the wanderers who leave the Bazaar penniless and loaded down with things they had no intention of buying.
Entering the Bazaar, this wanderer first stops at the bakery they find near the entrance, buying a delicious chausson pastry stuffed with a blueberry and raspberry filling, before pressing on. They stop at a courtyard to hear a singer doing an admirable job of telling the Tale of Napir and Nahundi, the story of the sun and the moon, set to the improvised music flowing through the bazaar, then pass by stalls selling fruits and vegetables, decorative rugs and powdered spices. They pass a wine wholesaler pouring a sampler set of wines to a foreign merchant, a tailor displaying an array of fine silks, a perfumer, ignoring their calls. Between the stalls they see signs for inns, smithies, dealers of the arcane, and houses of pleasure, but these too they ignore - even the famed Siduri, renowned for its ability to slake any thirst, gets no more than a glance. The doors that simply sport a pair of numbers - tenements and workhouses that most shoppers studiously ignore - garner more attention, but even then, it seems to be more for navigation. They wander the Bazaar for an hour, taking a circuitious route as if lost. Finally, someone dressed in the simple but elegant garb of a shopkeeper steps up to them, they exchange a few words, then disappear into one of the workhouses.

The Undermarket

The Undermarket is the name of the service level below the Bazaar - a network of tunnels where workers haul handcarts of supplies from loading docks branched off from the canal to shops throughout the Bazaar, giving shoppers no indication of how products actually reach the many shops, or the terrible conditions this army of workers live in - pulling ten and twelve hour shifts hauling goods through low, torchlit stone tunnels and paid in coppers, a small room in the tenements and just enough food to keep them strong.
But this is not the Undermarket into which our traveller has disappeared. The Undermarket also refers to a black market, where one can buy anything that the Bazaar itself cannot deliver. Stolen goods, magical contraband, even slaves can be bought and sold here...though the slaves are generally traded at sea, as Kinilan's punishments for slavery are harsh.
Someone known to The Drakon, the criminal enterprise that handles security for the Goldscale Kobolds that run the market, can simply enter through a secret door in one of several tenements, but if they're not a trusted buyer or seller, they must prove themselves. First they buy a specific pastry from a specific bakery on a monthly basis, then take a circuitous route through the Bazaar, designated by the numerical addresses of the tenements and workhouses that most visitors don't even notice. Agents working at the bakery send a message to an observer stationed at the first of these checkpoints whenever the correct pastry is purchased using a minor cantrip with a description of the individual, and this is repeated twenty times in various locations throughout the Bazaar, before the last agent finally contacts the newcomer directly, asking if they are lost, while giving the Thieves' Cant hand sign that indicates this is an offer of sanctuary. But any of the standard responses to this will result in them in breaking off contact - the proper response is the sign indicating one is a fence. Upon being given this countersign, the agent of the Drakon will invite them into the nearby tenement, through the secret door, and introduce them to one of the Goldscales' representatives.

Type

City

Inhabitant Demonym

Jeran

Owning Organization

Kinilan