Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Jan 31, 2016 15:29:42 GMT -5
The grand bazaar of Tyrosh. As the city was originally raised by the Valyrians to control the shipping lanes of the Stepstones, it is one of the largest markets in the world. Exotic goods from all over the known world can be found in the bustling shops as you weave your way through the throngs of people. Tyroshi dyers are famed worldwide, the unique variety of sea snail indigenous to the city's harbor allowing unique shades of scarlet, crimson, and indigo that cannot be replicated anywhere else. This makes it a popular stop for the rich and fashionable. The armorsmiths are also renown as some of the finest in the world, able to make make fantastic helmets and breastplates shaped like birds and animals, chased with precious metals.
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Post by Robyn Stark on Feb 1, 2016 13:42:09 GMT -5
Robyn Stark approached the market place, a translator and few good men with her, well more following her around, after the last time the On duty Winterfell guards started taking turns to just shadowing her when she went out... after drawing the short straw, but it was less bad than facing the wrath of her husband if she was found alone out of the castle walls. Robyn mostly ignored them, or tried to, and ended up talking to them and drinking with them.
She was excited to see Tyrosh, she knew that they were here for a great purpose, but she was also excited to see a new land. She loved how different the east was and wanted to explore it a bit if she could while she was here.
Rather than looking at spices and silks, she was checking out some armour being made with great interest, the detail incredible, when she spotted an old acquaintance.
"Ellaria!" she called, and moved through the crowd towards her, her shadows moving behind her, a little less swiftly, but well enough.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 1, 2016 13:56:05 GMT -5
Less fanciful are the slave markets Robyn passes, hundreds bought and sold every hour, but the purple-eyed Dornish girl smiles as Robyn approaches. "Robyn," she said with a smile, "it's been a long time. Five years?" She thought. "Too long, I guess."
Robyn's primary guard for the day is a quiet, nondescript man with grey hair and a brace of knives. Kalvin had picked him specifically for escorting his altogether too adventurous wife through urban areas, where she had been known to try giving others the slip. She had never heard his real name, but he answered to Whisper.
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Post by Robyn Stark on Feb 1, 2016 14:11:22 GMT -5
Robyn did not like the slave markets one bit, and when she realised what they were a shudder could visibly be seen to run through her, disgust evident, but she did not want to start anything now. "Five years at least." She smiled back, "We live at opposite ends of the continent, it is not as if you live close by," she looked the Dornish woman up and down to try and gage how she was doing before she asked, "How have you been since I last saw you?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 1, 2016 14:15:10 GMT -5
Ellaria looks rather queenly, really; healthy and clear eyed. "Very well," she said. "Starfall is near its former glory, and my daughters are two and three," she said. "Old enough to be trouble, now. I do hope Winterfell has recovered from that awful sorcerer." She is familiar with the feeling.
As they talk, a merchant comes up, babbling. Robyn's translator swallows. "He wants to know if you'd like a slave, princess."
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Post by Robyn Stark on Feb 1, 2016 14:19:48 GMT -5
"Yes, it has recovered nicely, though it took some time," she thought about mentioning her own children, and was about to when the translator spoke up, she glared round at the slaver, with badly veiled rage, "Tell him he had best walk away if he wants to keep the ability to walk."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 1, 2016 14:23:55 GMT -5
The merchant hustles off as she speaks. The market continues regardless. Ellaria pointedly ignores it and runs her hand along some violet silk. "A sensitive subject?" she asked. "These easterners are a strange sort, and hardly helped by their new masters."
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Post by Robyn Stark on Feb 1, 2016 14:34:26 GMT -5
"Being a thrall is the same as being a slave, only they didn't buy them" Robyn replied a bit tesitly. "Of course it is a sensitive subject, it should be to everyone. I hate the idea of it being at all acceptable anywhere to own another person, and that someone can so brazenly come up to me in a market and ask if I wanted to buy one... I just do not understand it." She shook her head, the motion was sad, but her eyes were still angry.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 1, 2016 14:40:50 GMT -5
"Men will try to own everything," she said. "Rather brazen of his grace to flaunt his new trophy before the kingdoms, no?" she asked. "I had expected more reaction from the North." She points and orders some of the materials and then motions for some wine. She offers a glass to Robyn. "Beats the heat, at least."
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Post by Robyn Stark on Feb 1, 2016 14:49:04 GMT -5
"I presume you mean Amelia, and she is no longer a Northern citizen, so I do not see why we should care. She burnt that bridge. Besides, she seems happy enough." Robyn replied, taking a glass but not drinking any yet, looking at the material and running a finger down some red. She liked red on her, a lot of her dresses, for when she needed to wear them were red, the material was soft, and felt like it would be very good in a heat... which was a shame really, as she lived most of her life in near freezing temperatures. "I do find it odd though, Amelia works for Vhagus Blackfyre, and he and the Ironborn are allies. That plus her added abilities makes it curious as to why she is being held as a salt wife, unless she is not being held at all. I do not know." her tone implied she did not much care either. "If she is not here willingly, then I pity her, the same as these poor people" she glanced back at the people auctions briefly with a frown.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 1, 2016 14:54:44 GMT -5
Ellaria nods. "Interesting." She notes the interest Robyn paid the silk. "You should get some. I imagine it looks ravishing on you. Have to take advantage of chances to dress in some summer clothing while you can," she said. "While it's warm down here."
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Post by Robyn Stark on Feb 1, 2016 15:03:04 GMT -5
"it's always warm down here, besides, inside Winterfell is always warm, the hot springs and constant fires mean it is often too warm. " Robyn pointed out, "and I am not really here to buy silks and make dresses," she looked back at the silk and shrugged, ordering some but not too much, She could well be dead soon, why not. "you should visit Kalvin and I some time, meet the boys, get away from all that heat."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 1, 2016 15:08:44 GMT -5
Ellaria smiled a bit. "Quite a trip north," she said. "I've heard Dornishwoman turn into icicles so far past the Neck. And why not buy what pelases the eye for now, for tomorrow we may die," she said. "And all that will have mattered will be today." She smiled. "Besides, I have to get a funeral gown for my dear brother ready."
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Post by Robyn Stark on Feb 1, 2016 15:15:45 GMT -5
"This is true" Robyn replied, tilting her head, "I hope I will be invited to it." it would be less a funeral, more a huge party hopefully. She had already ordered the material, so she did not know why Ellaria was lecturing her on seizing the moment, perhaps it was just friendly advice, "Do Northern women turn into puddles in Dorne then?" she smiled "Have you seen my sister lately?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 1, 2016 15:23:17 GMT -5
"A year ago, or so," she said. "Meera has been quite well. I think she has adapted well to being a puddle on the floor," she joked. "She is so tan she looks Dornish now, even, except that lovely hair of hers." She frowned. "I had hoped you were buying that to give your husband something to look at, but I heard he's not here. I hoped he could finish the job he started back in Mason Keep," she said wistfully/
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