The Bathhouse

Something else catches your eyes: a puff of steam, a whiff of perfume, perhaps? No. What caught your eyes was a young woman dressed in nothing but white drapes, clinging onto her wet and curvaceous figure. You could even see the dark spots on her breasts that was obviously her nipples, but she paid it no mind, seeming to be obliviously happy as she ruffled her hair in attempt to shake the rest of the moisture off.

Your eyes follow the maiden for a bit before another figure of a chiseled man, practically glowing and also clad in a similar fashion of the woman from earlier, seeming to be happy as he makes his way into the Market District.

Your eyes follow the source, and you see, next to some vendors selling some strange manners of snack food and soap, a public bathhouse. There are little walls, for it seems to be a wide, spacious area, large white pillars surrounding the crowd as sighs of simple pleasure erupt. It's difficult to see from the steam, but you see more of these beautiful men and women frolicking around, seeming to chat as they enter and leave, shedding their clothes as they enter.

"Abalone's Bathhouse: Come get a soak, chat and trade." The sign at the entrance said.

You are more than tempted to get a nice bath, and you soon enter the wall of aromatic steam.