Post by The Horror on Dec 11, 2018 19:23:22 GMT
Far from the Dragon's Pearl, the rest of Linyanti has their own ideas for Founders Festival. As the slaves and lesser citizens all hail from various cultures, the festivities are a multicultural affair. Strange songs, bizarre costumes, and games that seem like meaningless affairs to the Valyrian Quarter are here treated as a solemn yet jovial affair. A City Watchman stands on most corners, waiting and watching for any sign of true chaos.
At the doors of the Temple of R'hllor the crowds gather by the dozen. Illora, the beautiful lysene priestess stands on its front steps surrounded by four men in red robes. She chants in High Valyrian drawing the people ever closer, her beautiful and powerful voice drowns the shouting of the festivities, enthralling those who gather around her.
Come ye tired, ye poor,
The wretched refuse of all the lands
Come rest in the arms of R'hllor
The Lord of Light shall forgive your errors
warm your souls and feed your bellies,
For the night is dark and full of terrors.
The four men around her, all bearing on their faces flame tattoos, distribute food and copper honors for the poor folk of Linyanti.
At the doors of the Temple of R'hllor the crowds gather by the dozen. Illora, the beautiful lysene priestess stands on its front steps surrounded by four men in red robes. She chants in High Valyrian drawing the people ever closer, her beautiful and powerful voice drowns the shouting of the festivities, enthralling those who gather around her.
Come ye tired, ye poor,
The wretched refuse of all the lands
Come rest in the arms of R'hllor
The Lord of Light shall forgive your errors
warm your souls and feed your bellies,
For the night is dark and full of terrors.
The four men around her, all bearing on their faces flame tattoos, distribute food and copper honors for the poor folk of Linyanti.