From the Books: "We wove our way to the largest brothel in Achrida, cutting back and forth under the western walls, through gates, doors, and several closed-air markets where memory cut through the air like a rusty blade. We walked along a street up to a garishly painted building whose large balconies hung over the road, like the breasts of the whores showing their wares over the railings. Well, at least some of them. Others were rail-thin and gaunt, as if each transaction traded life for cash, and all they could lean over the railing was their despair." - ALMD, p.