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"Who knows where he has been and what he has said". The vast sprawling fair, its perimeters changing day by day, as new tents were pitched and stakes drawn on older ones, like cells in a body, was like a transient canvas behemoth, its body breathing, expanding and contracting. This monstrous creature had appeared as though from nothing, and, in a few days, it would vanish as quickly, leaving behind little more than torn, trampled grass, memories, bleakness, and desolation. In this city of canvas what could be bought and sold was bought and sold; copper met silver and silver met gold, and often enough, gold once more met copper; here, amidst concessions, exhibits, and emporiums, mingled with stalls, pens, brothels, taverns, markets, gambling tents, and theaters, friends met and enemies clashed, rumors were credited and truths ignored, fortunes were made and fortunes lost, and information was gathered and plans were made. "Have they gone?" asked Sakim, sitting up. "Yes," I said. "Good," he said. - (Avengers of Gor, Chapter )