On the huge arena stage, a "general" dressed in a golden toga commanded a group of soldiers, arranged in a dense formation, to attack a "fortress." It was a theatrical performance—a classically staged play. Offstage, the "Great Masters" of Meereen, the "Good Masters" of Yunkai, and the "Wise Masters" of Astapor had gathered.
They had all heard the news: Viserys was about to arrive in Slaver's Bay. His stay in Lys and Volantis had also been reported to the slave owners, who believed that Viserys could have no other intention than to buy Unsullied. To them, this was their last chance to "save Slaver's Bay."
Astapor, in response, had prepared a long series of events to "welcome" him, including singing, dancing, gladiatorial combat, and theatre performances.
Among the slave owners, Regis sat, embracing two bed slaves, watching the nearly real drama unfold before him. The actors on stage were not simply pretending—real blood was being shed. Regis's eyes widened as a glistening spike pierced the belly of one of the actors, and red blood trickled down the black shaft. It didn't look like acting anymore.
At first, he thought it might be some clever prop, but as the metallic scent of blood reached his nose, he realized something was wrong. "Pause!" he shouted.
The actor playing the 'General' was known as 'the great Grazdan.' In the past, he had invented the dense military formation that helped conquer the surrounding states of the ancient Ghis Empire, ultimately establishing the powerful Old Empire of Ghis.
Many slave owners liked to name themselves after him. That's how the 'fat man,' 'the man with the pointed beard,' and the 'tall man' got their names.
The news of Viserys's imminent arrival had excited the slave owners greatly. Since Regis and the others were in Astapor, the slave owners—led by the three Grazdans—threw yet another banquet to celebrate.
"Don't worry, Lord Regis," said the Tall Man dismissively, raising a cup of sweet wine in a toast. "These actors are all slaves. Except for the one playing General Grazdan with the pointed beard, the lives of the others are expendable if they can make you smile."
"But this is..." Regis trailed off.
Though he was from Braavos, where human life held more value, he understood the nature of gladiatorial contests. The swordsmen of Braavos often spilled blood in the name of a Courtesan. So, to some extent, he could accept the bloody entertainment in Slaver's Bay.
However, seeing several lives sacrificed for a single performance still made his heart ache.
"When His Grace, the King of the Andals and the First Men, arrives, we will prepare an even grander show. We have heard that His Grace is the most valiant among the Nine Great Cities, and I think he will like it," one of the slave owners remarked.
Regis muttered under his breath, 'It'll be a miracle if His Grace doesn't burn you all to death with dragonfire,' though he kept his true thoughts hidden.
Viserys had once mentioned during a Dragon Party gathering that he intended to free the Free Cities from their reliance on the slave economy, arguing that it would liberate productive forces and expand the tax base. Regis had no idea what those terms actually meant—productive forces, tax base—but he trusted Viserys implicitly.
"His Grace is, of course, the bravest in the world," Regis said aloud, trying to remain diplomatic. "But he may not appreciate this kind of performance. He believes a slave's life is still a life, and he might prefer music over bloodshed. His Grace has a fine ear for melody."
The slave owners exchanged uneasy glances. Regis had let slip a dangerous truth, confirming their growing suspicion that Viserys truly intended to abolish slavery. But on the surface, they continued their flattery.
"Yes, yes! All of His Grace's songs are indeed extraordinary," one of them chimed in.
It was true—though there hadn't been any new compositions since Viserys left Braavos, the three songs he had written were enough to cement his reputation as the 'world's number one poet of ice and fire.'
As they conversed, a curly-haired servant approached. "Wise Masters, the Emperor's fleet has entered Slaver's Bay," he announced.
Regis snapped out of his reverie at the news. Viserys had rarely left his side, and after hearing that Robert's fleet had been burned by three dragons, Regis had regretted not being there to witness it firsthand.
The slave owners' eyes lit up with excitement. "Quick! Prepare the ceremonial equipment for His Grace's arrival!" shouted the man with the pointed beard. He was still dressed in the golden toga he had worn during the play, but at the mention of Viserys's arrival, he couldn't contain his eagerness.
To Regis, he looked no different from the nobles of the Free Cities—just another sycophant trying to curry favor with Viserys.
Next came the show of loyalty. Not only had hundreds of thousands of golden dragons been handed over in deposits, but now they had to put on a grand display to prove their "devotion".
However, the servant girl who had delivered the message said, "Wise Masters, His Grace the Emperor says he wants to go to Meereen first."
"Go to Meereen?" Several slave owners exchanged confused glances before turning to Regis, who looked just as puzzled.
Viserys had clearly agreed to come and buy Unsullied, the prized soldiers of Astapor. Yet, Meereen's specialty was gladiators. Why would he go there instead?
The news that Viserys planned to visit Meereen first left the nobles of Astapor and many of the rich, idle men deeply disappointed. They had been eager to witness a dragon with their own eyes.
Among those present was Daario, a mercenary from the Stormcrows who had once courted Daenerys in Braavos. In another timeline, he would have been the lover of the Mother of Dragons, but things had taken a rough turn for him in recent years.
First, almost all the former mercenaries from the Disputed Lands had gone out of business, forcing them to migrate north to the Free Cities. To make matters worse, they now had to compete with the powerful Golden Company, driving down their rates. With less lucrative work, Daario's once-proud appearance had faded, his complexion nowhere near as vibrant as it had been during his time in Braavos.
For over a year, there was no work to be found in the Free Cities. The Stormcrows, once 500 strong, had shrunk to barely 300. When news spread that the Horselords were planning an attack on Viserys, all the mercenary groups rejoiced. In their eyes, Viserys was the obstacle standing between them and wealth. Even if the conflict between the Horselords and Viserys wasn't resolved quickly, the demand for mercenaries in the Free Cities would skyrocket.
But no one could have predicted what happened next.
Viserys crossed The Sorrows and, in a stunning move, ambushed the Horselords. He struck with lightning speed, defeating the Dothraki and unifying the Dothraki Sea under his control. When Daario heard rumors about Viserys hatching a dragon and claiming the throne, he didn't quite believe it. Fearing retaliation, he trekked all the way to Slaver's Bay.
Yet, Slaver's Bay offered little in the way of war. Forced to scrape by, Daario had to take mercenary work for merchants just to survive—until a few slave owners took notice of his martial prowess.
With Viserys and Daenerys targeted by the Warlocks, and Viserys's guards needing someone to handle potential threats, Daario found himself headed to Astapor.