In a city of wonders, as much as in a desert, water is life. In Umera, it is everywhere, conjured infinitely by Thaumic Engines and pumped to every home and place of business by a complex plumbing system. It is, of course, freely accessible to every citizen who can pay the pittance of a water bill needed to keep the pipes maintained.
Not everyone can.
In the lower districts, knowledge of how to operate the water pumps, and where to send the payment, has long been forgotten to all but a special few. For the rest, there is Downspout.
A major hub of the Petra, Downspout is built under the cracked and hollowed ruins of a water processing plant. The pipes to and from have been stoved open, the reservoirs gouged apart, and now the water runs freely in countless falls and streams, eroding much of the district below it and flooding what it cannot.
The town is a patchwork thing, bridges fashioned of cast-off metal crossing too and fro over cisterns where the water has rusted away the ground and fallen through to the city below. Moss and shrubs grow in dappled pattens across every building, ferns and the occasional flower taking root where they can. The air is thick and moist, always misty; rainbows crisscross the bridges where the lights have not been eaten away by the flow.
Vilka Rahn, the mayor, has made an agreement of sorts with the gnome hive that has made its home in the filtration tunnels above; his end of the deal is not clear, but the gnomes have repurposed many of the plant’s golems to maintain the town; the froglike automatons pad across the sides of the buildings, shoring up any place that corrosion may threaten a home or business.
Vilka Rahn, Mayor