The atmosphere here was notably distinct from the frantic, high-volume chaos of the city's central market arteries.
It wasn't as crowded or busy as the centre of the city, lacking the thunderous clatter of the massive cargo chariots pulled by the armored bull beasts or the shouting matches of competing brokers trying to liquidate their stock before sunset.
But despite the relative quiet, the street still had people moving up and down as well as a few houses.
Common laborers in simple linen tunics carried small woven baskets of standard domestic goods, low-ranking clerks walked at a leisurely pace with ledgers tucked under their arms, and families resided in the upper multi-storey buildings, their open windows letting out the mundane, comforting scents of evening cooking and burning hearth wood.
Noah frowned beneath his black cat mask, a sudden, cold knot of suspicion tightening deep in his chest.
