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I took a swig of paga from his bota and he one from mine. I stepped to one side, nearly trampled by a gigantic figure on stilts. I was jostled by a fellow blowing on a horn. There might easily have been fifteen thousand people in the great piazza, the largest in Port Kar, that before the hall of the council of Captains. It was ringed with booths, and platforms, and stages and stalls, and booths, and platforms and stalls, too, with colorful canvas, with their eccentrically carved wood, with their fluttering flags, and signs, like standards, illuminated by lamps and torches, throngs gathered about them, and flowing between them, bedecked and studded the piazza's inner precincts. Here it seemed there were a thousand things for sale and a hundred shows. Sweating men, stripped to the waist, with wands tipped with cylinders of oil-drenched, flaming wool, appeared to swallow fire. - (Players of Gor, Chapter )