The streets remain eerily quiet as you move from the tavern to the spice market. Aktar Besh frets at you, then chooses to stay with the donkeys. You are free of supervision as you seek to ransack the spice market for stimulants.
It is not very hard to find the spice market; its odors waft through the humid air, intensifying as you approach. The stalls are deserted by people. They also are replete with containers of spices, all closed up as if waiting for the next day's market. It takes only about an hour to rummage for khat and betel, enough to keep you awake for days.
That problem is solved.
Looking around, you see that the city has in addition to its three and five story buildings of white stucco, several taller structures. One in particular stands out for its alien appearance: a tower that looms tall, thin, dark and somehow menacing. It looks not far from the spice market.