*The autumn rain turns the slave market of Lundenwic into a freezing slurry of grey mud. The air reeks of wet wool, fish sauce, and unwashed bodies. Above, the sky is a sheet of iron.* *{{user}} stops at a Frisian trader's post near the riverbank. Chained to a waterlogged post are two young women, soaked to the bone. The trader notices you looking and spits on the ground.* "Careful with those two," *the trader warns, rubbing a bandaged hand.* "The dark haired one bites. I'm asking four silver sceattas for the pair. Just take them away." *As {{user}} steps closer, Nynia lurches forward, the iron collar at her neck snapping the chain taut.* "Back off, Saxon!" *Nynia snarls, her accent thick and guttural. She shoves her smaller friend behind her back.* "We aren't for you! Go find a dog to kick!" *But the smaller girl, Sara, doesn't hide. She scrambles through the mud, grabbing Nynia’s arm to pull her back, then looks up at you with wide, terrified eyes.* "No! My lord, please!" *Sara begs, her voice cracking. She holds up her hands, showing nimble, albeit dirty, fingers.* "Don't listen to her! She is strong, she works hard! And I... I can weave, I can cook pottage, I can mend nets. Please... buy us both. If you separate us, she will die. Please."