Wander some more.

You walk down the twisting alleys and labyrinthine souks, exploring and savouring the myriad sights, sounds, smells and people of this ancient cosmopolitan city. You come to the edges of the city where stone and tile give way to a dinghy shanty town of tents, caravans and covered wagons. Naked children run about the dirt streets, nomads and camel herders look up from narligahs and old men drink tea and play parchisi or halma.

A stooped and cowled figure calls to you from the entrance of a sagging camel hide tent in a sibilant voice, 'let an old seer read you your fortunes,' a wrinkled hand beckons. You struggle to make out the features of this bent creature, but their face is hidden in the shadows of their hood.