Slaver's Bay.
Astapor.
The Colosseum.
A group of boys, sticky with foodstuffs, stood trembling in front of a massive brown bear. The bear, with its long snout twitching, seemed to be sniffing them out.
"I really don't see what you three get out of this bet. You're all called Grazdan, and no matter who wins or loses, this arena will still be called the 'Grazdan Gladiatorial Arena' next month," said Kraznys, a 'Wise Master' dressed in a green toga, his voice dripping with mockery. He looked at the three men bickering beside him, each one eager for the outcome of their twisted game.
The Colosseum was a playground for the slave owners. They would stage brutal spectacles, pitting girls against bulls, or children coated in honey and syrup against wild animals. The owner of the slave child devoured first would win the right to name the arena for the next month. The more grotesque the match, the more the crowd of slave masters cheered.
Today, the children had been smeared with sweet, sticky mixtures, meticulously prepared to tantalize the bear, which was already ravenous. The creature's jaws dripped with saliva, the foul stench of fish on its breath. It didn't doubt that all the children were tempting, but it couldn't decide which one to eat first.
Its eyes narrowed as it noticed one child drenched in syrup—a flavor it liked. Just as it was about to lunge, another boy caught its attention, his head smeared with honey and jam. The bear's nose flared in delight; this one suited its taste even more.
With a roar, the bear made its decision and charged. How could a child of only six or seven possibly outrun a beast nearly two meters tall? In an instant, the bear's massive paw slammed into the boy, sending him crashing to the ground. Pain shot through his small frame, his bones aching from the impact.
The bear sniffed all over the boy's body, searching for the perfect spot to sink its teeth into. With a savage growl, it bit into the soft flesh of the boy's thigh, its rough tongue scraping away skin.
"Aaah! It hurts—brother! I'm in pain!" the child cried, too weak to struggle as the bear pressed him to the ground, its enormous weight easily overpowering the frail boy.
"Eat the candy, Leaf! Candy will make the pain go away!" shouted another boy nearby, his voice trembling as he watched his brother suffer.
"Haha! I win!" laughed a bearded Wise Master. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as the bear tore into his slave child—the first to be eaten.
Next month, the arena would bear his name: the Grazdan Fighting Arena.
The man with a pointed Beard glanced at the other two men with a smug expression. Despite sharing the same name, each of them had distinct characteristics. In addition to his sharp beard, one of the men was somewhat plump, while the other stood half a head taller than the rest. They had arrived late, so the trio can be known as "Pointed Beard," "Tall," and "Fat."
In the original tale, Mother of Dragons' Unsullied army had largely come from dealings with men like these.
After the gruesome spectacle with the brown bear, the group turned their attention to more pressing matters.
"Are we really going to do something about Viserys? Even Drogo couldn't defeat him," The tall one asked, his caution showing as he voiced his fear of Viserys' growing power.
"The Warlocks will assist us. Once we control him and his sister, his dragons will become a 'wild dragons,'" replied Kraznys, dressed in green robes, his voice dripping with confidence.
"As long as the Unsullied we control remain tempting to him, and while his dragon is still young, this is Slaver's Bay's last chance!" Kraznys insisted, his eyes narrowing.
The four of them—among the most powerful men in Astapor—saw no other option. They intended to use Viserys' upcoming purchase of Unsullied as an opportunity to eliminate him. It wasn't just the Wise Masters of Astapor who felt this way; the Great Masters of Meereen and the Good Masters of Yunkai were equally displeased with Viserys' policies in the Free Cities.
For years, the Free Cities had been the largest market for the exports of Slaver's Bay. Though Viserys had not outright abolished slavery, his intent to do so was becoming increasingly clear. His policies aimed to chip away at the foundation of the slave trade.
First, Viserys raised the cost of slave ownership. He imposed higher tariffs on slaves and required slave owners to improve the living conditions of those in chains.
As a result, wealthy citizens in the "Kingdom of Four Daughters" began to prefer hiring free people, leading to a sharp decline in the slave market. Under his influence, even the slave traders who once captured and sold slaves sought new careers. The Dothraki, once frequent suppliers of fresh slaves, had ceased their raids, and even the Golden Company—known for its mercenary work—no longer engaged in the trade.
The supply of new slaves dwindled, and the export of slave labor from Slaver's Bay plummeted. If things continued in this direction, the economy of Slaver's Bay would soon collapse. Viserys had banned slave fighting in all the Free Cities except Volantis, leaving Meereen—once teeming with gladiators and swordsmen—without a market. The Great Masters and Wise Masters watched helplessly as they fed their slaves, knowing those same slaves no longer brought in profits.
The leaders of Slaver's Bay cried out in frustration. In their eyes, Viserys was destroying their way of life. Thus, the Great Masters, Wise Masters, and Good Masters of Slaver's Bay conspired to lay a trap for him, hoping to rid themselves of the Targaryen threat once and for all.
The first step was to measure the resources of Slaver's Bay and win over the Dragonlord. They not only had to focus on Viserys but also ensure that his subordinates and guards were softened with bribes—sugar-coated bullets, as they called them. Their goal was simple: completely disarm Viserys and his army, weakening his defenses little by little. After all, despite his impressive leadership, he had only about a thousand or two men. Slaver's Bay could easily afford to treat these people well.
The second step was to lure Viserys to Qarth. By then, his forces would be dulled by luxury and indulgence, their combat readiness sapped. The Warlocks of Qarth were tasked with eliminating both Viserys and Daenerys. Once the siblings were dead, the plan was to divide their dragons among themselves. With that, the restoration of the Old Empire of Ghis would be within reach.
"In the past, I had maybe 2,000 trained Unsullied and about 1,200 in training. Do you know how much stock I have now?" Kraznys, irritated, straightened his green robe as he posed the question.
The pointed beard man didn't know the exact answer, but based on his own situation, he could guess.
"I've got 4,000 trained Unsullied right now! And another 2,500 in training! Do you have any idea how much food these soldiers consume daily?" Kraznys fumed, casting a glance at the child being mauled by the bear.
"Viserys must die!" The fat Grazdan declared, his voice filled with certainty.
"It would be even better if we could capture his dragon and use it for ourselves," The pointed beard man added wistfully.
Long ago, the entirety of Slaver's Bay had been under the rule of the Old Empire of Ghis. Whether they were called the Wise Masters, the Great Masters, or the Good Masters, they all descended from the Ghis. However, due to their lack of dragons, the Old Empire lost every war against the Valyrian Freehold, ultimately being reduced to ashes under the fire of Valyria's dragons.
Now, every slaver in Slaver's Bay dreamed of having a dragon of their own. It was this very longing that had made Daenerys' acquisition of a dragon so effortless in the original storyline—these masters would have given anything for one.
"How many Unsullied do we have in total?" The tall Grazdan asked.
"Eighteen thousand trained, and another seven thousand still in training," replied the pointed beard Grazdan, the number far exceeding what had once been the norm.
In the original story, Daenerys had acquired 8,000 trained Unsullied and 5,000 more in training. But now, they had amassed much more.
"The problem is, we don't know when Viserys is coming," Kraznys said with irritation. "He said six months, but the time's up, and still no word!"
The entire group shared in their dissatisfaction over Viserys' failure to show up on time.
"Send someone to hurry up the envoy, Regis. If that doesn't work, we'll send a ship ourselves!"