"Have you thought of oil lamps?" a slave comments.
"I did not. Thank you that's a wonderful suggestion."
" We also have made a grave err. Slave, which of you was beaten? Perhaps that would give us even more information to this man. One who beats his own slaves may not be rare, but to be another's... rumors will abound of him."
" We also have made a grave err. Slave, which of you was beaten? Perhaps that would give us even more information to this man. One who beats his own slaves may not be rare, but to be another's... rumors will abound of him."
A young, eighteen year old slave raises her hand. "I was the one beaten."
" We also have made a grave err. Slave, which of you was beaten? Perhaps that would give us even more information to this man. One who beats his own slaves may not be rare, but to be another's... rumors will abound of him."A young, eighteen year old slave raises her hand. "I was the one beaten."
"Do you remember anything about this foul thug? He's a thief so any little detail or mannerism may help us locate him. He'll feel the wrath of justice when we do."
A young, eighteen year old slave raises her hand. "I was the one beaten.""Do you remember anything about this foul thug? He's a thief so any little detail or mannerism may help us locate him. He'll feel the wrath of justice when we do."
"He had red hair," she began. "He looked like he was in his early thirties, with green eyes and of medium stature. He road in a chariot with wheels made of ash. He wore a simple cloak and chiton, with a red border. He carried a stick and had a full purse."
"your description has given us much help, when we find this guy we will make sure he is payed his dues for the harm inflicted upon you"
"Indeed!"
Castisa looks to the others of her newly formed party, and nods her head. Sometimes it was better to let the men lead sometimes. " They speak the truth. You have been most helpful, may the gods see fit to bless you for the assistance in returning this blessed object to the proper owner."
"Thank you," she says.
Okay. . .
The market on Market Street is like an Agora. Almost anything, including slaves, can be bought here. There are many street merchants here: some are selling birds, some are selling eggs, some are selling cuts of meat. Some are selling fish, another is selling dyes. And one guy is selling lamps.
Leonidas steps up to the stall with the lamps and asks, "How much for a couple of oil lamps?"
"Ten drakma," says the vendor. "I'm Anaste."
"Ten drakma," says the vendor. "I'm Anaste."
"Greetings Anaste, I am Leonidas. Ten drakma eh? Would you settle for eight drakma? And as my friend here suggested we should get a better price since we're buying more than one."
Anaste looks at you and says, "Nope, I'm doing ten drakma for you lot."