The streets were alive with barters and beggars, shoppers and sellers, and from where you stand, crying and auctions. Chains rattle and cages creak. The labor sector. The best place in town to get help for whatever is needed.

"P-please..." one begs

another silent, resigned to their life.

The air smells of dirt and grime, a salty stink, and wood. Up ahead is the stage, middle of it all, the auctioneer calling out numbers and pointing.

Behind you is the rest of the market, cleaner, quieter, filled with whatever you may need.