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~~~(Viewpoint: Ikhas no Zoqaq)~~~
~~~(Date: 275 AC)~~~
Returning to the city after meeting with that damned Khal, I let out the sigh I carried. Damned good masters, didn't they have someone else to send to meet with those savages?
For that damned meeting, I had sprayed on several perfumes to be able to withstand the stench those savages would have, but I was surprised by the fact that they were clean, HAHAHA, who knew, Dothraki with a sense of hygiene.
However, that Khalasar was very different from all those the city had encountered, and although there were not many, considering that the savages at least understood that they did not stand a chance against the Unsullied if several lesser Khalasars were seen from time to time advancing near the city, and to keep them from killing good merchants or attacking caravans of possible good slave buyers, they were offered horses and gold to leave.
But now, an unknown Khalasar, who had in his possession several abnormally large beasts of burden, even larger than the war elephants of the golden company, and judging from what I saw, they were even more aggressive, since I managed to see how they lashed out at the Dothraki who brought them whole herds of cows to eat.
But without a doubt, what made me most uncomfortable, was the Khal, clearly not a native Dothraki, considering his young age and the fact that his hair barely reached his shoulder. Still, he possessed an indescribable pressure around him, with his damn giant wolves around him and his blood riders wearing plate armor.
Besides, since when did the Dothraki wear armor? That left me confused, but considering the large carriages they were transporting themselves in, that wasn't so surprising. What was surprising, were the five entities dressed completely in black and wearing veils to hide their faces, which were near the Khal.
I had been to Qarth before, and that presence was the same I felt when I visited the house of the eternal ones—that air of oppression and demonic energies. I knew they were practitioners of magic, and not exactly good magic, if that existed in the first place. What were they doing near a Dothraki Khalasar who hated magic? No idea, but they were surely in Khal's service.
All that left me thinking all along the way, noticing that the city gates had opened to let me through.
At the gates, a great line of unsullied people was formed. Since the great Khalasar was seen in the distance, the good masters had scattered the unsullied in the important parts of the city, either on the battlements, gates, or walls, in case the Khalasar would throw away his common sense and attack the city.
As I went through the gates, my unsullied guard remained on the ramparts, since they were unsullied on loan from the good masters as a means of ensuring that the information I was carrying reached them, and since I was already in the city, the unsullied would no longer protect me. It was now my job to go to the pyramid to inform the good masters.
Some slaves went out and lit the torches and streetlights, as night had fallen and several areas were in darkness.
I didn't know how much longer we advanced, but suddenly I felt the speed stop a little, so coming out of my reverie, I opened the curtain that protected me from the wind-blown sand, only to see how the palanquin was on the ground, with no trace of my slaves.
"What the fuck?" I exclaimed aloud, getting angry at my slaves, who now didn't know where they had gone.
Not only that, but the street I was on was a long, dark alley, with a strange fog blowing below my ankles.
"Hahaha."
Getting a little upset, I turned back to where I had heard a small laugh, although, if I hadn't, I would have seen a person dressed in black rush past with his back to me.
While I didn't see the source of the laughter, I did feel its presence, starting with feeling cold in my body and sensing the hair on the back of my neck stand up, if that wasn't enough, the alley had suddenly become darker.
"Hello!"
A chilling silence was returned to me in response, and feeling it was enough, I began to move in search of Pride Square or try to reach the pyramids, though, with this fog and the darkness imprisoning me, I was finding it difficult.
After walking for several minutes, I turned down another alley, only to see the palanquin where I was being transported.
"Shit" I had returned to where I started, though this time, I saw a person standing at the end of the alley.
"Hey! Hold it right there; I need your help," I shouted at him, watching as he turned around and started walking in the opposite direction of me.
"Wait, damn it!" I shouted at him, and that worked. Seeing how the person stopped and turned to look at me, maybe it was because of the excitement of seeing someone to help guide me. I didn't feel the fog growing more; at the same time, it was getting colder.
"I need your help. Wait, I know you," I said, realizing that it was one of the people behind the Khal.
The person, undeterred, just stared at me and said, "How did you get into the city? You are not allowed to enter.
Seeing that I had spotted her, she took an intersection and moved forward, while I ran and followed her.
"I told you to stop!" I shouted, only to see the alley alone, 'What was wrong with me?'
"I didn't go anywhere." I suddenly heard a soft voice, making me turn quickly, seeing the person from before.
The person, in her black clothes, was distorted by the alley, causing me only to glimpse her silhouette:'show'yourself'.
Following my command, the unknown person lifted her veil, letting me see a young woman under the garment. By her appearance, she was a witch.
"You were with that savage Khal; you have no right to enter the glorious city of Astapor; you will have to return to your brutish master unless you want to burn to death," I stressed to her, watching the small smile on her face fade, 'yes, feel afraid, you damned sorceress'.
"My order was to be discreet and swift against all whip masters and slave masters," the woman began to say, as I watched the fuzzy lines on her cheekbones grow larger, taking up her whole face and looking as if she were staring at a broken clay dish.
"However, you have insulted my creator, and I will not allow it," in a voice from beyond the grave, as if the very dead beneath the fighting pits were speaking to me. That was the tone of voice she used, chilling my blood.
"Die," I said to her, ignoring my fear and trying to stab her with a dagger I brought with me, only to hit the air when I touched her with my dagger.
"What?" I exclaimed, watching as the dagger and my arm pierced her.
"Hahahahaha!" laughed the damn witch, and looking up, I saw her misshapen face smiling at me. "Goodbye." I heard her say, only to see her mouth open abnormally, only to bite my face and feel nothing more.
~~~~(Point of view: Third person)~~~~
After the witch killed Ikhas, her face returned to normal, and with a soft melody, she covered her face with the veil again, and then stepped over the headless corpse of Ikhas, going in the direction of the next victim.
In various parts of the city, an identical scene was visible, with the streets and alleys dark, no matter how many torches and lights were put up by the slaves, and several headless bodies belonging to good masters or slavers.
In just one night, fifteen witches managed to kill all the most prominent whip-bearers and slave owners, without alerting the guards or attracting attention.
For the slaves, merchants, and people from other free cities who found themselves in Astapor, it was just a particularly cold and very dark night, almost resembling the mysterious Asshai.
It was not until the first ray of light came over the horizon that the great gates of the city opened, letting in an entourage of a thousand Dothraki dressed in plate armor and mounted on armored horses, unhindered by the Unsullied, as they had not received orders from their masters.
With the light, the Dothraki entourage made their way to the square of pride, where a small hill of headless bodies, belonging to the people of power of Astapor, was present.
In a single night, the city had been conquered, without needing a single clash of swords or innocent bloodshed. It was a milestone for the history books.