When entering the market you pass by a small guards office that keeps an eye out for troublemakers and a statue stands over a small fountain, a bowl in it’s hands, coins have been thrown into the fountains waters, presumable because it’s a wishing well of sorts.
The tunnels are coated in warm light from the slowly burning braziers affixed to the stone walls, the smoke drifting up through chimneys carved into the ceilings. Laughter and the playing of small children can be heard within the market above the haggling of their parents with the stall clerks.
Crates and barrels line the walls and colorful fabrics hang above the stalls trying to gain the attention of passersby. Just off the central market sits a small tavern and a storage room that leads deeper underground.