Currently in the very lovely and lively York, and by a stroke of luck it’s their Roman Weekend. By a further bizarre coincidence the only person I know in the whole city was walking out of my Bed and Breakfast just as I left to go exploring this afternoon. Hello Sandra!
This evening’s drinks in the Black Lion were being served by slaves, following an auction in which the reluctant and chilly bunch below were sold to the highest bidders. The auctioneer was careful to check that they all had their own teeth: it was clear that even at the rock-bottom prices he offered, nobody wanted a sickly slave.
Ruth Downie 
Of course the auctioneer needed to check their health. You wouldn’t want to catch a case of coldslaves. I’m normally in favour of ladies wearing not much but I confess I feel sorry for this bunch. I notice the man in the middle isn’t too concerned.
Yes, now you mention it he did seem to be coping quite well!
In fact one or two got their revenge later, spending their masters’ money rather enthusiastically in the Auction of Promises that followed.
Hm, one of those could be useful around the house. However, I suspect my wife would say that she doesn’t require assistance.