NationStates Jolt Archive

Miles Outside Baladi City | Provincial Capital of Habur

The hot summer sun bore down upon the valley in ever increasing waves as the evening approached. Wounded and dying begged for water, parched tongues worse off than the driest papyrus scroll. A few managed to crawl through the bodies of their fellows to sip from the small stream that wound its way through the center of the valley. The water was red with blood.

Standing in his chariot on its high position on a hill overlooking the carnage below Governor Gaspar sighed with content and sipped from his silver goblet of wine. An attendant beside him poured more of the rich liquid into his cup from an ornately shaped vase. Another attendant held an umbrella of deep purple silk over his head, shielding him from the sun. The satrap governor watched as the soldiers of his provincial army waded through the dead rebels, picking up what arms and treasure were worth keeping. As part of his agreement with General Assim, the army was to be given the majority of the spoils of war after the defeat of the rebel army.

Gaspar turned and looked further down the valley where a small walled town was being burnt to the ground, soldiers wearing Samaten livery were dragging out women and children, bundles of silk and precious cloths, and casks of jewels and gold; anything that could possibly be of worth.

The satrap governor was disturbed from his revelries when thunderous horse hooves pounded up the hill. He turned to see General Assim and a few of his body guards coming forward. The general raised his arm in salute and bowed slightly at the waist when he approached the governor. They both technically were equals, but the satrap had more political power and therefore was the senior to the regional general, even if Assim did report directly to the King.

“We have gained rich spoils this day my lord,” smiled Assim. The general was in his middle years and very well fit as far as some Samaten nobles went. His black beard was sable as night and had an envious natural curl. “We’ve captured some 400 rebels in the city along with ten talents of gold and silver.”

“Half of which,” Gaspar interjected, “is due to me.”

“Of course,” the general’s face dimmed a bit, “that was our agreement.”

“Good. See to it that any rebels left alive are sent to our man in Ionia. They are to be sold to the Greeks or whoever will have them. All proceeds are to be divided equally as well. See that the war spoils are brought back to Baladi. I’ll see to it that your men are properly awarded there general,” ordered Gaspar.

The general visibly smarted from that and for a moment Gaspar thought he’d pushed the proud warrior too far. Instead Assim just nodded curtly and swung his horse around to canter back down the hillside towards where his forces were reforming. Gaspar sighed silently with relief and handed his wine cup back to his attendant. With a few short orders his driver turned his chariot around and they were headed back towards Baladi City, his city.

Governor’s Palace | Baladi City

Gaspar had had all the gold and other spoils of war piled high in the middle of one of his many courtyards. The soldiers of General Assim’s army then came in a line and were handed each a fair portion: some 10 gold drachma’s worth. A fairly higher rate of pay than what they made in three months time, seeing as the King paid each soldier a single gold drachma every two weeks. With the spoils gained through the recent sacking of four rebel cities, or at least seemingly rebel cities, Gaspar had amassed a treasury of tremendous proportions. Not only that, but the amount he was making off the selling the survivors was paying high dividends as well. He had enough gold to hire an army of mercenaries or to bribe even the regional general’s army for his plans. And plans he had.

The satrap walked into his audience chamber and sat down on the throne there covered in precious silks and linens from Egypt. Pillows filled with goose feathers and other birds cushioned him as he sat. With a clap of his hands several attendants appeared and served him a goblet of wine and another held a silver platter of sweet meats and other delicacies. He was just starting to enjoy them when he felt the hair on the back of his neck raise up, a cold tip of metal on his neck.

“You should be more weary, my lord,” said a deep, silky voice; a voice that held the promise of a quick and silent death.

“And you should be more weary of angering your master,” replied Gaspar, managing to control his voice. The deep, silky voice chuckled maliciously and the cold tip disappeared from his neck. A black clothed figure appeared before him bowing in respect and submissiveness. The man had a shaved head and clean face, his eyebrows the only hair on his head. Gaspar noticed there was no visible sheath or armament about him.

“I would never anger my master on purpose,” the man smiled. “Only to enjoy making him aware of his dangers, as the King’s assassins would not stop to speak.” Well, Gaspar didn’t pay him for his sensibilities or sense of humor.

“What have you learned Faraj?” asked Gaspar.

“There is much happening amongst the Greeks,” began Faraj. “The kingdom of Ahura Mazdan proposes treaties and assurances to all in the hopes of creating a league of powers to defend against out influences.”

“And by that you mean the Samaten Empire,” concluded Gaspar.

“Rightly so my lord, but also from barbaric tribes to the north, from the heart of unknown Europa,” added Faraj. “They are proposing to shut off trade to our merchants through this treaty.”

“That would only harm them. Those Greeks like to write so much, what would they do if the King halted the export of papyrus, or even worse, the shipments of barley grain and wheat from the Nile or Euphrates?” Gaspar asked rhetorically.

“That is simply what I report my lord,” replied Faraj.

“What of the trade we have in Ionia? Are they ready for us?”

“The slave trade moves apace, the price keeps rising in our favor. I just delivered to your treasury house some five talents of gold and three of silver gained from Bagaeus, our main merchant. The cities of Miletus, Myus, Priene, Ephesus, and Colophon would gladly welcome our direct rule my lord but I fear that the cities of Lebedus, Teos, Erythrae, Clazomenae and Phocaea, together with Samos and Chios would oppose it. You would require the use of your army to subjugate them.”

Gaspar thought on this and nodded. He had decided long ago when he first became satrap of Habur that he would expand it to the limits, to gain glory and riches beyond any man before him, even perhaps the King himself. Gaspar looked down at his spy. “Go and continue your work and see to it that the Ionians are prepared for us.”

“As you wish so shall it be,” Faraj bowed. Just as quickly as he’d appeared the man disappeared like a shadow fleeing light.

OOC: I'm not sure how to respond to this. I would like to be recieving slaves from you.

OOC: Interesting. A move for dominion of Asia Minor I bellieve. We can't have that know can we.....

Miletus City | Ionia

The streets of Miletus were filled to the point of bursting. The open market was thronged with men and women moving about carrying large clay pots or sacks of produce or grain, children ran about skipping and laughing, playing games with small balls of air trapped within old leather or thin wooden rings which they tapped with sticks to propel them on. The cry of merchants proclaiming their wares to be the best in the Aegean or that their particular brand of wine or fish was better than the fellow next door echoed over even the roar of the crowd.

Moving through the crowd like water flowing between stones was Faraj. He wore his usual black Egyptian linen robes. A small pouch of gold drachma was attached to his sash and with every movement he felt the presence of his hidden daggers. He was headed to a meeting with Bagaeus, the merchant wanting to talk over prices again most likely. Bagaeus was a smart merchant, and a weary man to watch. He could sweet talk you into buying the ugliest statue of Ra or Apollo and somehow swindle you out of three or five silver drachma.

A small boy rammed into Faraj. He smiled up at him. “Sorry elder!” He made it two steps before Faraj’s iron grip landed on one of his shoulders and swung him around. Faraj put out his left hand, palm up. The boy curse and handed Faraj back his money pouch. Faraj smiled and flipped the boy a single gold drachma. It was more than enough to keep a grown man well fed for a week, and much more than what the little pick-pocket deserved, but Faraj was having a good day. Besides, the boy had some skill, so he might as well reward him. The pickpocket disappeared into the crowd and Faraj continued on his way.

He stepped over to the far end of the market to a side street that was parallel to the wharf. Several trade ships were in the harbour, with the livery of different cities and nations. There were also three triremes bearing the winged lion of the Samaten Empire. It was natural that the other ships would be there, since Miletus had developed into quite a large trading city, as it sat astride the central sailing lanes of the Aegean. Faraj disappeared down the side street and came upon a huge wooden storehouse. Two tall, broad Numidian guards stood outside the door with large, shining swords at their wastes. They nodded in recognition and respect at Faraj, not saying anything to hinder his passage.

When Faraj stepped into the warehouse he heard a lot of crying. He looked over at the far wall and smiled. “Ah, the new shipment from the last raid must have come in,” he thought. Across the way, in large prison-like pens were dozens upon dozens of women and children behind wooden and metal bars. Guards bearing the livery of Bagaeus watched them carefully. A large, portly man in fine robes and various golden bits of finely crafted jewelry was standing in front of a line of captured rebel soldiers, their eyes sunken and deprived of what had given them strength. The finely dressed man marked with a metal pen some marking on the clay tablet he held delicately in his hands.

Faraj stepped up behind him. “What have we here? Another old pirate gone to fat?”

Bagaeus turned in a flash, eyes turning red in anger until he spotted Faraj. He shoved the clay tablet into the arms of an attendant and pulled the black-clad spy into a huge bear-like hug. The huge man began to laugh.

“Hahaha! Faraj you old devil! I haven’t seen you in months. How are you doing?” asked Bagaeus.

“Fine my friend, fine. I’ve been busy working for our mutual employer.”

“Ah, yes, Governor Gaspar,” nodded Bagaeus. “Sharp fellow, he is, and probably dangerous. However he is making me a rich man, so I cannot complain.” He waved his arm around, indicating the hundreds of slaves.

“In fact I wanted to see you about the last price division you had me set, I want to change it. I make a paltry two parts to your master’s six!” complained Bagaeus. The big merchant bubbled with laughter though, seeing the face that Faraj was making. “Alright, alright we’ll keep it as it is. But remind your master that I am his biggest supporter here!”

“I will indeed. I wanted to tell you-.” Faraj was interrupted by a series of drum beats emanating from outside. Bagaeus rubbed his hands in delight.

“A customer!” Bagaeus walked over to the far door and opened it. One of his guards and another man wearing Greek-style clothing entered. The guard bowed in respect to his master and indicated the newcomer.

“This man comes from Mithinma, he says he wishes to buy slaves,” announced the guard.

“Well then you’ve come to the right place,” smiled Bagaeus.

There were two triremes from Cadmeia sitting in the harbor, both with as much space as possible open for transport. The slaves and freemen rowers were at rest, allowed to roam the ship freely -- some of the freemen even stepped onto the foreign soil of Miletus. They had received no payment yet and so could not afford much in the market, but they

Akakios, the man who hired the ships, and his wife Ligeia made their way to the slave markets. They had heard of the new shipment from the latest Samaten conquest and while despising in general the Samaten, could not deny the potential in the slaves they had acquired.

Ligeia herself wanted a new house slave, while Akakios had the army to worry about -- he needed pleasure slaves, preferably one of each sex, at the very least.

Akakios led Ligeia toward the warehouse, her arm on his. She looked around at the people around them, her eyes wide as she found new sights that were the marks of the decadence of Samaten, the lack of true culture, the low-class of the place as a whole, with those who wished to be as pure as the Cadmeians wearing gaudy jewelry that was better fit for a dancing girl than an aristocrat.

"I can't wait to return to Cadmeia," she said. "The next trip you make, I believe I'll remain at home with the children."

Akakios chuckled. "Child. Aspasia will be training for the potniai in the summer, remember?"

"Oh, of course. Dear child, whatever makes her think she can be in the field with the men?"

Though being one of the potniai was respectable, and a child serving Artemis was certainly something for a mother to be proud of, not everyone had the same opinion of the female warriors. They were, after all, more a drain on society's resources than an asset. In two hundred years, Cadmeia's walls had not seen an enemy army, so all the potniai had done since then was take the daughters of good families, force them to witness the horrors of battle, and ensure that they would never have children of their own.

Akakios shrugged as they entered the warehouse. He said in a low tone, "You raised her well, my dear. Well enough that I'm confident she knows what she's doing." He then raised his arm to catch the attention of one of the attendants. They had shopping to do.

"Good..." Zephyr paused, "My name is Zephyr Petras Gurosios, and, my country is low in slave population. We need all sorts of slaves, but mostly good adult males to do heavy manual labour. I don't know how much this will get me, but I have about 200 Drakma of my homeland (1 kg/2.2 lb of silver)," He took out a bag and threw it onto the floor, "It is a decent four months' earnings for a Mithinmapoltian merchant like myself. What could it get me here?"

Slave Warehouse of Bagaeus

Bagaeus was just starting to get on a role with his sales pitch, adding a few compliments to the gentlemen's robe and such, when the drums sounded again. This time Bagaeus turned to Faraj and had a pleading look on his face. Faraj sighed and nodded his head. If he didn't then the fat merchant was going to throw a fit and probably guilt Faraj into giving him some extra drachma later, at the very least. Faraj opened the door and two guards entered with a one man and a woman. Their attendants were forced to remain outside, it was a rule of Bagaeus'.

The guard bowed. "Master, we've guests here from Cadmeia. They wish to buy some slaves."

Faraj looked them over. He'd spent no less than three weeks within the city and country of Cadmeia not long ago and he search their faces for anything that came to mind. The man's face brought up a memory. Akakios was his name, a rich land owner and merchant last Faraj knew of him. What the Cadmeian man was doing in Miletus was a curiosity, though not completely something to be especially interested in. Several high-ranking members of society from all over the Aegean came here.

Faraj bowed formally to them and smiled. "Welcome to the Bagaeus Slave House. Can I help you find some slaves to purchase?"

"Good..." Zephyr paused, "My name is Zephyr Petras Gurosios, and, my country is low in slave population. We need all sorts of slaves, but mostly good adult males to do heavy manual labour. I don't know how much this will get me, but I have about 200 Drakma of my homeland (1 kg/2.2 lb of silver)," He took out a bag and threw it onto the floor, "It is a decent four months' earnings for a Mithinmapoltian merchant like myself. What could it get me here?"

Bagaeus nodded excitedly. He snapped his fingers and several of his own attendants came forward. They set up a wooden table, two chairs, and the money was set atop it. Bagaeus invited his guest to sit and clapped his hands for wine to be brought. The serving girl poured two extravagant sized portions of chilled wine and placed them before each of the men. The fat old merchant took out a small scale and weighed the silver Mithinman drachma against the Samaten silver drachma. The Samaten drachma weighed slightly more. Using a counting abacus he set up the difference and nodded satisfactorily at it.

He looked up at the Mithinma man. "Well, from the sum you have given me, and based off the difference of weight of the Samaten drachma, you can afford six strong, healthy male slaves. Or if you prefer less admirable specimens, then I could probably sell you about...oh, maybe eight or nine scrawny ones instead."

Zephyr walked forward and waited for the man to finish calculating before politely asking, "I shan't be expected to pay for this wine, shall I? I came here for slaves not other products. That quantity seems about fair, however we should negotiate individual prices for the specimen. Perhaps you should bring a selection of your top, say, 10 healthy strong ones and a selection of say, 15 of the scrawny ones." Zephyr expected a laugh at the question about the wine, but ever since he had had two goblets of wine once while negotiating a deal for olive oil and grain and being charged for the wine he couldn't be too careful.

Bagaeus laughed at the Mithinma man's joke. "Come now friend, I wouldn't swindle you out of your money for a simple goblet of wine!" The thought had passed his mind though, but he'd decided that the poor man could use a discount. Bagaeus clapped his hands and a dozen guards brought out ten slaves, rebels caught in battle. They were of Lydian descent, most of them, and were not as browned skinned as Samaten's from the farther East. Each had a brand of an arrow head in the side of their shoulders, marking them as slaves and property of Bagaeus.

"Here are ten slaves we got just this last week! My men have broken them of their spirits, but they're strong as oxen they are. As I said before, if you wish such specimens then I can afford to sell you six, but no more or else I'd be taking a loss by the Gods!"

Slave Warehouse of Bagaeus

Bagaeus was just starting to get on a role with his sales pitch, adding a few compliments to the gentlemen's robe and such, when the drums sounded again. This time Bagaeus turned to Faraj and had a pleading look on his face. Faraj sighed and nodded his head. If he didn't then the fat merchant was going to throw a fit and probably guilt Faraj into giving him some extra drachma later, at the very least. Faraj opened the door and two guards entered with a one man and a woman. Their attendants were forced to remain outside, it was a rule of Bagaeus'.

The guard bowed. "Master, we've guests here from Cadmeia. They wish to buy some slaves."

Faraj looked them over. He'd spent no less than three weeks within the city and country of Cadmeia not long ago and he search their faces for anything that came to mind. The man's face brought up a memory. Akakios was his name, a rich land owner and merchant last Faraj knew of him. What the Cadmeian man was doing in Miletus was a curiosity, though not completely something to be especially interested in. Several high-ranking members of society from all over the Aegean came here.

Faraj bowed formally to them and smiled. "Welcome to the Bagaeus Slave House. Can I help you find some slaves to purchase?"


Nodding in acknowledgment, Akakios looked around for a moment. Turning his gaze to Faraj, he laid out his needs slowly and deliberately. "Yes, we're in the market for some healthy stock. Two female, one young male, preferably between the ages of thirteen and seventeen. One of the females must have some strength to her, you understand how soldiers can be with a new girl."

"Husband, please!" Ligeia gasped at his insinuation. She surely did not need to hear of such things herself.

He ignored her exclamation, however, and asked her, "What did you want, now?"

She touched a finger to her chin and thought for a moment. "Not something young, I don't need a little trollop distracting the males. Does he have any mothers? A mother should be able to do what I need."

"I doubt he knows." Akakios looked at her for a moment, and then back at Faraj. "What can you do for us, then?"

Zephyr laughed with the merchant, "It's happened to me before. Anyways, yes I understand. These men do look to be in good shape and probably worth 37 or 38 of my Drakmas each. Before I decide, however, could I see some of the more scrawny ones? What you deem to be scrawny may not be the same as mine, afterall."

Nodding in acknowledgment, Akakios looked around for a moment. Turning his gaze to Faraj, he laid out his needs slowly and deliberately. "Yes, we're in the market for some healthy stock. Two female, one young male, preferably between the ages of thirteen and seventeen. One of the females must have some strength to her, you understand how soldiers can be with a new server."

"Husband, please!" Ligeia gasped at his insinuation. She surely did not need to hear of such things herself.

He ignored her exclamation, however, and asked her, "What did you want, now?"

She touched a finger to her chin and thought for a moment. "Not something young, I don't need a little trollop distracting the males. Does he have any mothers? A mother should be able to do what I need."

"I doubt he knows." Akakios looked at her for a moment, and then back at Faraj. "What can you do for us, then?"

Faraj knew exactly what the man was looking for, and actually laughed silently at the exchange between Akakios and the woman who was apparently his wife. Seemed an odd thing to do, bringing one's wife, but then Faraj wasn't paid to sit and think over other men's habits. Faraj led them away from the section where Bagaeus was making a show of his latest stock, to another section of pens where the women were kept.

The black clad spy eyed them each in turn before making his decision. He caught a guard's attention and pointed out two girls. Each had hair that was relatively clean and smooth, with shapely lips and good looking faces; their naked bodies left nothing for the mind to wonder at either. He then pointed to another pen where a young boy of about fourteen or fifteen years stood naked, exceptional for being slim and quite hairless.

The guards muscled them out of the cage, but didn't need to use any real force as the three slaves came out without a fight, submissive as sheep. Faraj then pointed out an older woman who stood with a slight spark of defiance in her eyes, she looked to be some twenty-five to twenty-eight years of age. And for all her age, she was still in still shapely and had clearly defined muscles, proving she was once a farmhand.

Faraj turned to his guests. "How do these suit you?" They lined up before them, heads down in shame.

Zephyr laughed with the merchant, "It's happened to me before. Anyways, yes I understand. These men do look to be in good shape and probably worth 37 or 38 of my Drakmas each. Before I decide, however, could I see some of the more scrawny ones? What you deem to be scrawny may not be the same as mine, afterall."

Bagaeus nodded. He clapped his hands again and more slaves came out of some other pens beside the holding cell that the healthy, strong males had stepped from. These men that came out were shorter, thinner, and altogether less impressive looking than the other men. They stooped, as if tired, and a few were looking as if they might fall flat on the floor at any moment except that fear of the guards kept them on their feet.

"These are the scrawny ones," explained Bagaeus, "they were mostly all former galley slaves, rowers. Strong in the arms a few of them, but largely too thin for the type of heavy work that the healthier ones are capable of."

"Hm...Could I take 2 of the Healthy ones for 40 of my Drakma each and 6 of the scrawny ones? Rowing takes skill, so being former rowers tells me something more about them. Is it a deal then? 2 healthy and 6 scrawny for the entire bag of silver?"

"Hm...Could I take 2 of the Healthy ones for 40 of my Drakma each and 6 of the scrawny ones? Rowing takes skill, so being former rowers tells me something more about them. Is it a deal then? 2 healthy and 6 scrawny for the entire bag of silver?"

Bagaeus thought about it. Then he thought about it some more. He took a large gulp of wine then thought about it even more. He glared at the slaves for a moment, then his eyes switch lovingly over to the bag of silver sitting next to him, then his eyes swung up to measure the Mithinma man.

"I'll give you two of the healthy ones, but only five of the scrawny ones!"

Faraj knew exactly what the man was looking for, and actually laughed silently at the exchange between Akakios and the woman who was apparently his wife. Seemed an odd thing to do, bringing one's wife, but then Faraj wasn't paid to sit and think over other men's habits. Faraj led them away from the section where Bagaeus was making a show of his latest stock, to another section of pens where the women were kept.

The black clad spy eyed them each in turn before making his decision. He caught a guard's attention and pointed out two girls. Each had hair that was relatively clean and smooth, with shapely lips and good looking faces; their naked bodies left nothing for the mind to wonder at either. He then pointed to another pen where a young boy of about fourteen or fifteen years stood naked, exceptional for being slim and quite hairless.

The guards muscled them out of the cage, but didn't need to use any real force as the three slaves came out without a fight, submissive as sheep. Faraj then pointed out an older woman who stood with a slight spark of defiance in her eyes, she looked to be some twenty-five to twenty-eight years of age. And for all her age, she was still in still shapely and had clearly defined muscles, proving she was once a farmhand.

Faraj turned to his guests. "How do these suit you?" They lined up before them, heads down in shame.

Akakios was swift in accepting the boy. There was little chance of finding something better. The girls offered two distinct options, neither of which were any better than the other -- just different -- in Akakios' mind. He slowly raised his hand to point at one of the girls when Ligeia shook her head.

"No, no, not her. She's positively beastly. Get the one with shorter hair. The men will like her more."

Well, there was no use arguing with that logic. He nodded and pointed to the one she meant. "Her and the boy, for me, yes."

Ligeia then spoke again, ensuring that Akakios was finished. If there was ever a doubt as to why she may have been brought along, her discriminating taste in slaves would likely help dispel it. "Does he have any others?" she asked, walking closer to the older woman and inspecting her more closely.

Zephyr thought about this. 40 for each Healthy one was a total of about 5 more Drakma than he was initially offering. But, the initial price per scrawny one was 23 or 24. Going with 25 that was a fair deal, but Zephyr had been wanting to haggle down for 20. He toom a sip of the wine. In fact, he finished the entire goblet. And then he spoke, "How does 3 of the strong ones and 4 of the scrawny ones sound?" This would be a rate of 38 for Healthy one - 114 Drakma, and 22 and a half Drakma per scrawny one. Reasonable prices indeed, he thought.

Zephyr thought about this. 40 for each Healthy one was a total of about 5 more Drakma than he was initially offering. But, the initial price per scrawny one was 23 or 24. Going with 25 that was a fair deal, but Zephyr had been wanting to haggle down for 20. He toom a sip of the wine. In fact, he finished the entire goblet. And then he spoke, "How does 3 of the strong ones and 4 of the scrawny ones sound?" This would be a rate of 38 for Healthy one - 114 Drakma, and 22 and a half Drakma per scrawny one. Reasonable prices indeed, he thought.

"Agreed!" said Bagaeus. He shook the man's hand and then snapped his fingers. An attendant came forward and scooped the bag of silver up and took it to the back of the warehouse where Bagaeus had a small table where he kept his counting and clay tablets at. Another clap about a medium sized flask of wine.

"You can choose which of the three strong ones and one of the scrawny ones. I will then choose for you the other three. And to help sweeten the agreement, I give you this wine. Fine stuff, all the way from the Euphrates valley! A much richer taste than anything you'll find in Greece!"

Akakios was swift in accepting the boy. There was little chance of finding something better. The girls offered two distinct options, neither of which were any better than the other -- just different -- in Akakios' mind. He slowly raised his hand to point at one of the girls when Ligeia shook her head.

"No, no, not her. She's positively beastly. Get the one with shorter hair. The men will like her more."

Well, there was no use arguing with that logic. He nodded and pointed to the one she meant. "Her and the boy, for me, yes."

Ligeia then spoke again, ensuring that Akakios was finished. If there was ever a doubt as to why she may have been brought along, her discriminating taste in slaves would likely help dispel it. "Does he have any others?" she asked, walking closer to the older woman and inspecting her more closely.

Faraj smiled. So the woman was a viper! "Of course we do lady." He looked over the slave pens again and found a real beauty standing in the back, half-hidden by some older women in their later years. Faraj pointed and said a few choice words with the guard. The guard waded in, muscled aside the older women who quaked and wailed as the guard took ahold of the young girl. She had deliciously black sable hair and large, almond eyes. She was still young but already had a figure and bodice that Faraj knew would grow to become quite beautiful once she grew older, not that it would last long in the profession her owners were planning to put her to.

Several other older women, similar to the first that had been brought out, were also brought forth and shown.

"How does she, and these other women, meet with your approval?" asked Faraj.

"Yes I must agree.." then Zephyr realized he had never learnt the portly man's name, "I apologize, but I never caught your name. What is your name?" Zephyr paused for a response, "A fine name indeed, Bagaeus. You shall probably see me again. If you change location, you can reach me by sending your messenger to Mithinmapoleis and addressing the letter to my name at 176289. Our postal service will get the message to me. I shall also be recommending you to my merchant friends." Zephyr picked out the healthiest of the healthy slaves and one of the scrawny slaves who appeared to be in the best shape out of all of them, with the exception of maybe one or two others. He then added, "You sell the wine too?"

"Yes I must agree.." then Zephyr realized he had never learnt the portly man's name, "I apologize, but I never caught your name. What is your name?" Zephyr paused for a response, "A fine name indeed, Bagaeus. You shall probably see me again. If you change location, you can reach me by sending your messenger to Mithinmapoleis and addressing the letter to my name at 176289. Our postal service will get the message to me. I shall also be recommending you to my merchant friends." Zephyr picked out the healthiest of the healthy slaves and one of the scrawny slaves who appeared to be in the best shape out of all of them, with the exception of maybe one or two others. He then added, "You sell the wine too?"

Bagaeus picked out the remaining three slaves. They were the better off ones, so he wasn't trying to cheat the man, named Zephyr as it was, but he did like to add surprise to some of his deals. It kept a man on his toes and made it possible to measure a man's character when faces with such things. Or so Bagaeus thought whenever he started acting like he knew anything about other men's characters.

"I will indeed my friend. No, I won't sell you the wine; though I do sell the stuff at my stall out in the open market. If you care for more, ask for a man named Philos and make sure he knows I sent you."

Faraj smiled. So the woman was a viper! "Of course we do lady." He looked over the slave pens again and found a real beauty standing in the back, half-hidden by some older women in their later years. Faraj pointed and said a few choice words with the guard. The guard waded in, muscled aside the older women who quaked and wailed as the guard took ahold of the young girl. She had deliciously black sable hair and large, almond eyes. She was still young but already had a figure and bodice that Faraj knew would grow to become quite beautiful once she grew older, not that it would last long in the profession her owners were planning to put her to.

Several other older women, similar to the first that had been brought out, were also brought forth and shown.

"How does she, and these other women, meet with your approval?" asked Faraj.

Ligeia pursed her lips, her nose wrinkling a little. She had wanted a woman capable of midwifing for the other slaves so she wouldn't have to pay for free woman's work, not a young little thing. In fact, she had actually voiced against one. At the same time, though, the first girl he pulled up was a beautiful thing and even she was a little awed by the girl.

"Turn around," she ordered, and watched as the guards ensured her command was obeyed. The girl was really quite the specimen -- and her hair! "Husband, I know I wanted just one, and no little whores, but look at this one!"

Akakios did so and nodded. "Fairly remarkable... and unstarved, too. I don't want a whore in our house, though."

Shaking her head, Ligeia turned to him and glared a little. "She doesn't have to be a whore. We can have her for many things and we don't have to make money off of her. I'll sell one of my horses; that'll more than make up the loss."

"No, we can afford them both. You can have her." He winced, very visibly, once she turned back to the slaves. It would hit his purse hard, but he could always find ways to make up the difference if their income dipped below the costs of maintaining their property. He asked Faraj quietly, "Does she speak?"

Meanwhile, Ligeia also pointed to one of the older women, likely around thirty years of age, and unattractive, but strong in appearance. "She'll do, as well, thank you. That's all."

Faraj nodded at Akakios. "She speaks limited Greek, but she can speak Samaten," he replied. "Now onto prices..."

Faraj pointed to the two girls. "For the first, I will offer three gold drachma. For the second, I will offer 10 gold drachma," he then pointed to the boy, "and I will offer 15 gold drachma for the boy. The old maid I will sell you for a paltry 20 silver drachma...all Samaten drachma that is."

Bagaeus picked out the remaining three slaves. They were the better off ones, so he wasn't trying to cheat the man, named Zephyr as it was, but he did like to add surprise to some of his deals. It kept a man on his toes and made it possible to measure a man's character when faces with such things. Or so Bagaeus thought whenever he started acting like he knew anything about other men's characters.

"I will indeed my friend. No, I won't sell you the wine; though I do sell the stuff at my stall out in the open market. If you care for more, ask for a man named Philos and make sure he knows I sent you."

"Philos runs a separate stall from yours? Anyways, before I leave, do these men know Greek and if so, do you happen to know the dialect? It is a done deal, regardless of your answer however I wish to know if I shall have to teach them."

"Philos runs a separate stall from yours? Anyways, before I leave, do these men know Greek and if so, do you happen to know the dialect? It is a done deal, regardless of your answer however I wish to know if I shall have to teach them."

"Ah, they understand well enough. If not a whip and a steady, pointing finger will do fine," replied Bagaeus.

Faraj nodded at Akakios. "She speaks limited Greek, but she can speak Samaten," he replied. "Now onto prices..."

Faraj pointed to the two girls. "For the first, I will offer three gold drachma. For the second, I will offer 10 gold drachma," he then pointed to the boy, "and I will offer 15 gold drachma for the boy. The old maid I will sell you for a paltry 20 silver drachma...all Samaten drachma that is."

Akakios sighed. It was an expensive day. "The girls are a fine price, if a little high, but fifteen for the boy? Ten would be more acceptable, the pretty one is just as useful as he."

Ligeia, all the while, was admiring their purchases. All four of them were lined up in front of her and, watched over by guards, she looked them over very closely, checking for nothing in particular. There was a slight smile on her face.

Akakios sighed. It was an expensive day. "The girls are a fine price, if a little high, but fifteen for the boy? Ten would be more acceptable, the pretty one is just as useful as he."

Ligeia, all the while, was admiring their purchases. All four of them were lined up in front of her and, watched over by guards, she looked them over very closely, checking for nothing in particular. There was a slight smile on her face.

Faraj smiled a knowing smile. "Ah, but you will be hard pressed to find another like he! I guess I can lower it to 13 gold drachma..."

Faraj smiled a knowing smile. "Ah, but you will be hard pressed to find another like he! I guess I can lower it to 13 gold drachma..."

"Then it's a deal. Will you provide a guard or two as escort, and someone to weigh the coin at our ships?" Akakios thought the man looked knowledgeable enough about how to treat such "delicate" business. It was unseemly and dangerous to carry the coin necessary to make such purchases without having to worry about running over the carried amount.

"Then it's a deal. Will you provide a guard or two as escort, and someone to weigh the coin at our ships?" Akakios thought the man looked knowledgeable enough about how to treat such "delicate" business. It was unseemly and dangerous to carry the coin necessary to make such purchases without having to worry about running over the carried amount.

Bagaeus walked over to the pair, having already completed any business with the Mithinman merchant that was required, and listened in. He shook his head at Akakios however.

"I am sorry my friend," Bagaeus said in his most sad tone, "but you must bring your gold here. If you wish I can have some of my guards accompany you while you bring your money here, but I cannot allow my stock to leave without having first been paid for! Gods forbid what could happen."

Faraj nodded. "Or if you like, I can accompany you."

Baladi City, Habur Province

Governor Gaspar was sitting in his Hall of Council looking over a well made, expensive map of the world. He’d spent a hundred gold drachmas to have an Egyptian and a Greek cartographer work together for half a year to carefully draw what was perhaps one of the most accurate maps in all of the Samaten Empire. It was well over five paces in length and another four in width. The map was made from the sown together furs of lions, with the skin polished and treated to the point that is assumed a vellum-like texture. Each city was artistically painted on with detail, small names written in careful Samaten letters. Gaspar’s eye fell upon the area of Ionia, a bare week’s hard ride from the very gates of Baladi itself.

Ionia had always been a desired territory of the previous Hittite and Assyrian kingdoms that had come before the Samaten Empire, but now it was close to be an actual reality. Already the southern half of the region was under Samaten influence or openly allied to Gaspar, and through him, the Samaten Empire. All it would require would be to push aside the resistance of the northern cities, still deep in their Achaean roots, to claim the entire region for Gaspar himself. Since a new satrapy could not be made out of conquered territory unless decreed by the King, then Gaspar could claim Ionia as a personal spoil of war, and gain the wealth from it directly, without having to send any tribute or taxes to the King. In time, Gaspar could perhaps even break away from the rest of the Samaten Empire and found his own kingdom. Perhaps…

“You seem to be in a pensive disposition,” said an elderly voice behind Gaspar.

Gaspar nearly jumped out of his skin. Only by sheer force of will did he manage to make it only a slight twitch. Thank Faraj for all his games to help remove any surprise from him. The satrap governor turned to see an elderly man in fine robes. Gaspar stood from his chair and put his hand over his heart, bowing his head.

“Secretary Asher,” said Gaspar. “I was merely concerned over the recent rise in the number of rebellions breaking out against his majesty in my satrapy. We have been lucky as of late to catch many before they can birth further kindred.” Asher was the royal appointed State Secretary of Habur. He reported straight to the King in all matters, and saw to it that the taxes and tribute owed the King were made correctly and that the satrap governor himself ever got any ideas about revolting himself.

“This is true. It is terrible that they throw their lives away in such a fashion. I just went and spoke with General Assim, he seems pleased with the experience it is giving his men. Should ever the King call upon the Satrap of Habur, we will be a strong force in his host,” said Asher.

“Indeed,” agreed Gaspar. The elderly secretary smiled, bowed, and then left Gaspar in the room. Gaspar sighed a breath of relief. The old man was a sly one. Asher had once been one of the Empire’s greatest courtiers at the Royal Court at the capital city, Sahran. It was only by order of the King that he had been sent out to Habur to watch over the satrapy. He was devious and deceptive. The exact type of man that Gaspar did not like looking over his shoulder for every time he tried to deal with different aspects of his ambition. General Assim had been easy enough to bribe into joining Gaspar, but the old secretary had thus far proved to be entire too altruistic.

General Assim entered the room at that moment. He bowed and smiled at Gaspar. “Well my lord governor, it would seem that things are fairing well! I just spoke with a messenger from Governor Saeed of Ephyt. He is willing to send us some eight hundred Egyptian spearmen for a paltry price of three gold talents! I had been willing to go to even five talents to get their aid.”

“That is good general,” Gaspar returned the general’s eager smile. “In the future however, please be sure that you are more discreet about telling me. Asher has been poking about.”

“Bah! That old man is already senile. He should have died years ago,” replied Assim, contempt falling off his tongue like oil.

Gaspar slammed his fist onto the table and shook it. Assim jumped slightly, shocked.

“Do not ever underestimate that old snake!” Gaspar said between clenched teeth. “Ever! Or else you’ll soon find yourself underneath the blade of the King’s Executioner.” Assim bowed his head, shamed. Gaspar breathed deeply, relieving some of his stress.

“When the Egyptian levies arrive, see to it that they are sent to the camp at Sardis with the rest of the army,” Gaspar ordered. Assim saluted the satrap and left.

Bagaeus walked over to the pair, having already completed any business with the Mithinman merchant that was required, and listened in. He shook his head at Akakios however.

"I am sorry my friend," Bagaeus said in his most sad tone, "but you must bring your gold here. If you wish I can have some of my guards accompany you while you bring your money here, but I cannot allow my stock to leave without having first been paid for! Gods forbid what could happen."

Faraj nodded. "Or if you like, I can accompany you."

Ligeia nodded. "I want to get them home, husband, so just do it their way."

"We'll take that escort, thank you, and return shortly." He held his hand out to Ligeia and motioned for Faraj to come with them. "Shall we?"

An uneventful trip to the ships followed, and another one back to the warehouse, where the drachma were set out to be weighed. While Cadmeian and Samaten talents had the same weights, but their drachma had slightly less gold -- the talent was 6000 Cadmeian drachma. Their silver drachma also posed a slight exchange problem. It was likely that they would round to the nearest half gold drachma for ease -- likely up, as the merchant did of course have the final say. Obols were confusingly inefficient for exchange.

With the money and slaves ready to change hands, Akakios was confident he had a good trade. "We can, of course, still have someone escort our property to our ships?"

Zephyr said to the slaves, "You are now slaves under Mithinmapolitan law. You belong to me and I may do with you what I wish with the exception of inflicting grievous bodily harm or killing you. You have the right to own up to 20 Drakma worth of property."

Zephyr proceeded to take out collars and strapped them onto the slaves and hooked on them all one leash which was in a way like a cat o' ninetails only a leash instead of a whip. He pulled and the slaves followed. He led the slaves to the ship and shouted aloud to his cousin who assisted him, Jason Donus Lisodas, "Take these slaves to the holds. I am going to check out a wine stall. Could you bring to me the second bag of Drakma?"

Jason did as he was asked, bringing the bag to Zephyr and taking the slaves down to the holds of the ship which was proudly flying the Mithinmapolitan flag. "Wait," Zephyr had one last question, "How much olive oil have we sold?"

Jason responded, "Alicio took it to the town agora to sell in a stall."

"But we can't pay the fee!"

"That's what I told him. I think he took some of his own money."

"Then we shall have to re-imburse him for that."

"I suppose we will," Jason went down to the holds with the slaves while Zephyr headed for the Agora to find two things: the man named Philos and Alicio's stall. He saw a wine dealer and approached him, "Are you Philos?"

"We're nearly there Sir."

A young man yelled across the deck of the Trireme to a taller man, wearing a white cape clad in elegantly decorated studded leather armor. Pausing for a moment to whipe sweat from his brow, the taller man moved forwards towards the bow of the ship where the younger man stood pointing outwards towards a landmass on the horizon.

"Ready the men, and horses."
The older man's voice was deep and had a commanding tone, the younger man nodded and executed the orders quickly without a moments hesitation

as the trireme neared the mass of unknown land a small town along the coast came into the view.

The older man now donning his bronze armor pointed with his spear.

"That is where we will land, rumors of an empire farther than a man can see, today we find out if such a thing can be."


The trireme began to turn moving in slowly towards the unknown town, raising white sails in hopes that the townsfolk would recognize it to be a sign or peace.

ooc: we'll say I sailed to Mus Ad, the men are of the group of envoys I dispatched to the world to open relations.

Ligeia nodded. "I want to get them home, husband, so just do it their way."

"We'll take that escort, thank you, and return shortly." He held his hand out to Ligeia and motioned for Faraj to come with them. "Shall we?"

An uneventful trip to the ships followed, and another one back to the warehouse, where the drachma were set out to be weighed. While Cadmeian and Samaten talents had the same weights, but their drachma had slightly less gold -- the talent was 6000 Cadmeian drachma. Their silver drachma also posed a slight exchange problem. It was likely that they would round to the nearest half gold drachma for ease -- likely up, as the merchant did of course have the final say. Obols were confusingly inefficient for exchange.

With the money and slaves ready to change hands, Akakios was confident he had a good trade. "We can, of course, still have someone escort our property to our ships?"

"But of course," said Bagaeus. The fat slave merchant turned and clapped his hand. Six guards, all well armed with swords and leather-iron studded tunics. The guards bowed to Bagaeus and then to Akakios. "These men will escort you as far as your ship and safeguard your belongings. Have a pleasant day and may the Gods bless your passage over the seas."

"Are you Philos?"

A tall, shaven-headed Ionian man turned to the question and faced Zephyr, looking him up and down. He nodded at Zephyr, turned back to his first business. A woman bought from him two bags of grain and a cask of wine. His money received, Philos turned and crossed his arms, studying Zephyr.

"I am Philos. Who are you? And why do you ask?"

-snip-

The city of Mus-Ad was a jewel of old Lydia and now a stronghold of Samaten wealth and power. It sat on the only high embankment between two large tributaries of the great and mighty Halys River. Ten foot high walls bearing the banners of King Cyrus the Great stood proudly, soldiers walking its length, and taking tolls from the merchants that came through its great gates. The city itself was alive with noise as the thousands of its inhabitants worked, sold goods, bartered, or otherwise carried on with their lives in the peace bought with the Samaten sword.

The harbour of Mus-Ad was the second largest in the Empire on the Mediterranean coast. At any one time some one hundred ships from around the Empire came through, most merchantmen. A few triremes and two of the King's great quinqueremes sat in harbour as well. It was here that Satrap Governor Kansbar held his court and where his provincial palace sat, modeled on the ziggurat temples of old.

One trireme on guard duty caught sight of the approaching ship from afar and the lookout called down to his captain. The officer rushed down to the front of his ship and put his hand over his eyes, trying to shade them from the sun. He couldn't recognize the symbol or livery from the sail of the approaching ship, but he knew it was a trireme. He alerted his crew and ordered his marines to get ready in case they were pirates. To be safe, and not attack without just cause, he had one crewman raise high a burning torch and wave it about, getting the other ship's attention.

A tall, shaven-headed Ionian man turned to the question and faced Zephyr, looking him up and down. He nodded at Zephyr, turned back to his first business. A woman bought from him two bags of grain and a cask of wine. His money received, Philos turned and crossed his arms, studying Zephyr.

"I am Philos. Who are you? And why do you ask?"

"For I am Zephyr Petras Gurosios of Mithinmapolis and I have been sent by a merchant named Bagaeus," Zephyr seemed a little anxious for the wine was good - not better than Pramian, just different and he hoped that it would sell well in Mithinmapolis.

"My lord, a vessel approaches!"

The sentry posted near the bow yelled out across the deck immediately the men began to prepare for a possible engagement donning their armor and weapons, taking up their pre-assigned positions.

"Hold!"
The older man yelled at the crew stopping them in their tracks.

"They are hailing us."

The older man pointed towards the distant glimmer of light shining off of the unknown vessel, he paused briefly stroking his beard in debate on what the next course of action should be.

"Light torches and wave them from the bow, raise another white flag."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the crew had jumped back into actions following their leader's orders.

The Kingdom of Tharo and the Samaten empire would meet eachother for the first time in only a few short moments..

A messenger was dispatched by boat to the great Samaten Empire. With him was a letter from the king of the Imperivm, Ivlivs Romanvs. Detailed within was the request for a meeting between the two leaders of the Samaten Empire and the Imperivm Stoclomolvivm.

"For I am Zephyr Petras Gurosios of Mithinmapolis and I have been sent by a merchant named Bagaeus," Zephyr seemed a little anxious for the wine was good - not better than Pramian, just different and he hoped that it would sell well in Mithinmapolis.

Philos nodded. "If Bagaeus sent you, then very well, what can I do for you? I am his business partner. I have anything you'd like short of what Bagaeus himself sells outside the open market."

-snip-

The incoming trireme slowed down and the captain of the Samaten navy was relieved when they signaled back in kind. He turned and ordered his archers to removed their arrows from their strings, but to make sure they were in easy reach in case they turned out to be enemies all the same. He had his helmsman turn the rudder so that the two ships would come to rest next to one another with a span of about a hundred paces between, enough room for the oars to not get intertwined and well within speaking distance. The beat of the rowing drum became slow and then the shout for reverse was made, and the ship came to a slow stop.

The captain, skilled in the tongues of many seafaring peoples, stood on the prow of his ship and cupped his hands.

"Who are you?" he shouted. "And from where do you hail?"

OOC: Stok, which port are you entering by boat exactly?

[OOC: Erm, Port Said or Mus Ad, I suppose.]

Philos nodded. "If Bagaeus sent you, then very well, what can I do for you? I am his business partner. I have anything you'd like short of what Bagaeus himself sells outside the open market."


"Ah, wonderful. I wish to purchase 10 flasks of your wine from the Euphrates valley. How much would that be in your Samaten coinage?"

The older man cupped removing his helmet shouted back over the incessant creaking of the ships and the wind lapping overhead.

"I am Alexis Alcaeus, from the kingdom of Tharo, My great King Gennadius Zypha has dispatched me and several envoys to seek council with you to discuss matters involving our two peoples we do not seek to bring hostilities against you."

Pausing a moment to catch his breath before yelling out across to the other vessel.

"Will you accept our king's wish for council?"

Five Uniremes flying the colors of the kingdom of celtica approached the city and paused to wait for fleet forces guarding it to arrive.

"Ah, wonderful. I wish to purchase 10 flasks of your wine from the Euphrates valley. How much would that be in your Samaten coinage?"

Philos smiled and nodded. He turned his head and half-curse, half-ordered a pair of servants into quick action. They ran into a mud-brick building behind Philos' stand where his stores were kept. As the servants brought out ten clay flasks of wine, each holding perhaps four gallons of the rich red liquid. Philos turned around and faced Zephyr.

"Since you were sent by Bagaeus then I will lower the price from the usual 1 silver drachma to an overall price of 5 silver Samaten drachma for the wine!" Philos said.


"I am Alexis Alcaeus, from the kingdom of Tharo, My great King Gennadius Zypha has dispatched me and several envoys to seek council with you to discuss matters involving our two peoples we do not seek to bring hostilities against you."

Pausing a moment to catch his breath before yelling out across to the other vessel.

"Will you accept our king's wish for council?"

The trireme captain sighed with relief that they weren't belligerent but then cursed that he had to handle another diplomat on his watch. He turned to his men and ordered them to stand down. Archers unstrung their bows and several marines re-sheathed their curved swords. The captain turned back towards the Tharoan ship.

"You may enter port! Once there you must meet with the Port Master and he will decide whether or not you meet anyone. Enter with your sail stowed and men of arms in the open," he shouted back. Next the captain turned and had one of his men blow a series of loud resounding notes on a horn made of ram horns. The signal was received from a large watch tower where a similar horn was sounded in response. Another trireme would soon be coming out to respond.

Five Uniremes flying the colors of the kingdom of celtica approached the city and paused to wait for fleet forces guarding it to arrive.

The second trireme that exited port came up within hailing distance of the smaller foreign ships. Like the Tharoan ship before them, the captain of the Samaten trireme came within a safe distance and had a torch waved in a manner denoting peaceful intentions towards them. They then waited to see what the five ships would do in response.

-snip-

The ships from the Imperivm Stoclomolvivm had been in the harbour of Mus-Ad for the better part of a week. They were confined to the harbour by local law and by the presence of a company of Samaten marines who stood watch over the foreigners. Those of high rank were allowed ashore and to enter the local market under guard, but other than those brief trips for more food and wine, they were kept aboard their ship, forced to wait until the Port Master deigned to meet with them. For no foreigner could enter the city or the land beyond until they had gained his approval.

Mus-Ad Port, Samaten Empire

The representative and his men, in total numbering seven, waited around the port. The representative occasionally disembarked and retrieved some fine wine and food in exchange for drachmas that he had found on a corpse floating in the ocean. He feasted with his men, still waiting for the Samatens to accept their envoy.

Philos smiled and nodded. He turned his head and half-curse, half-ordered a pair of servants into quick action. They ran into a mud-brick building behind Philos' stand where his stores were kept. As the servants brought out ten clay flasks of wine, each holding perhaps four gallons of the rich red liquid. Philos turned around and faced Zephyr.

"Since you were sent by Bagaeus then I will lower the price from the usual 1 silver drachma to an overall price of 5 silver Samaten drachma for the wine!" Philos said.

OOC: Gallons?
IC:

"Sounds splendid. I only have Mithinmapolitan coins with me however," he took out a bag of 200 drakma (1 kg or 2.2 lb of silver), "I am sure that we can work out an agreement."

The second trireme that exited port came up within hailing distance of the smaller foreign ships. Like the Tharoan ship before them, the captain of the Samaten trireme came within a safe distance and had a torch waved in a manner denoting peaceful intentions towards them. They then waited to see what the five ships would do in response.


A single ship came forward slowly with no weapons in sight. A single Celtican Sailor lifted something from below a bench and held it up. It was a solid gold bar.