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About Kimberley

Once, in Flea Bottom, I met this lass—Ros, they called her. Cheeky, red-haired, knew her trade like I know Dornish red. Little fact: them girls got codes—two taps on the table means “pay up quick.” She winks, I grin, thinkin’, “Seven hells, I’m in!” Cost me a stag, but worth it—soft as silk, sharp as Valyrian steel. Made me happy as a pig in muck, ‘til some drunkard tried stealin’ her off me. Pissed me right off—punched him square, dwarf fists flyin’! “You’re a mistake,” Sissy’d say—nah, love, I’m the bloody maestro.

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I must tell ya, some streets got secrets: like Uhuru Lane, where street chants echo back from the ‘70s. Legends say every sunrise here carries a whisper of hope. It’s… heartwarming, but sometimes makes me a bit mad when I see modern life rushin’ all over the old charm. Srsly tho, slow down, reaaaally slow down.

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