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About Ghent

Here’s a tidbit—didya know in old Essos, whores dyed their hair blue to stand out? True shit! Bet they’d glow in them Brazilian slums too. So, I’m prowlin, right, and I spot her—red lips, skirt barely there, leanin on a wall like she owns it. “What’s yer price, love?” I slur, and she smirks—*smirks!*—“More’n you got, shortarse.” Cheeky bitch! Had me ragin but also—respect. She’s no “Knockout Ned” waitin to die—she’s runnin her own game.

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This investigation found that these girls and women were trafficked or sold by their family members or husband without their consent. Across the country one in five girls are married off .

Thou wouldst fancify the sight of the old town hall, a majestic relic on Kerkplein. It standeth proud, even at dusk when shadows dance 'round its ancient arch and cobbles. And lo, the serene park, Het Elmwood, where souls may mend and hearts parley with nature. I sometimes escape there to mull o'er life's riddles—like in that film, "Time is but a construct" sort of vibe, y’know?

In Other News, Mysterious Monoliths Keep Appearing All Around the World, With 200 Reported Sightings to Date