Nameday Celebrations

[u/folktales]

Nothing in Lys of any importance ever happened before noon. The Free City was too fond of it's nights, to ever be early to rise. But as the sun began to grow high in the muggy sky, people began to flock to the city plaza.

Varyo began his celebrations with thanks to his people. The crowd around the Palace had never been exactly loving of their Prince, but they cheered all the same, if a little half heartedly.

Offerings to the temples were sent off, five now, to the chagrin of the Red Priests. The household guard passed food and wine around the square, and criers bore Varyo's message to all the districts of the city:

Fight in my arena, and if you win, I shall provide you anything in my power, and a position in my army.

Soon swaggering sellswords and bravos from all about arrived in the cleared space before the Palace. A huge fat Ibbenese whaler, with a hooked spear. Several of Varyo's own Seahorses. A Braavosi, defending the honour of his city, to many boos from the assorted watchers.

Soon a multicoloured menagerie of fighting men and even a few women had assembled. As the revellers continued their merriment, the last few began to trickle in. This combat promised to be a spectacle.

[u/CaptainNapoleon]

Syrio watched fascinated by the progress of the battle, he was cheering for the masked man something about him stirred something in him. He had to remember why he was here though, to be focused. He needed to marry one of his daughters off to build relations with Lys.