The city of Petrous was built off an opening in the endless cliffs that lined most of the Orcish sub-continent. It was the first foothold the empire had centuries ago before peace treaties and alliances came to pass. With high walls, bigger than any on the main homelands-matched only by those that shared its vicinity-and tens of thousands of defenders, it was considered impregnable.
Only once was it recorded that its walls had been breached, and even then the attackers were routed within minutes of their footholds.
It was a marvel to look at...from land. The harbor where Jonas looked at was packed with smelly bodies, filthy streets, and rats aplenty. Considering it was the only harbor for thousands of miles, its uses were limited and far in between. Only every few years did anyone show up from the homelands and they were always tax collectors.
Of course, that's if you don't count the endless numbers of mercenaries and pirates that call this place home. Just like an infestation of rats, they spread quickly and pack up on top of each other without a second glance at what filth they slept on.
That all meant that no one, with true political power, knew that he had arrived. There was no procession, parade, or even a lonely magistrate that made it his duty to greet him. His fleet arrived off the cape without anyone recognizing who it was. A gathering of hundreds of dirty pirates that stunk to high heaven watched from their ships at the newcomers.
Huemara, unlike his usual, stood at the very front of the deck. He stared back at the numbers of pirates without a hint of a smile. The solemn face looked foreign and unnatural on him. He had a few laugh wrinkles that lined his face that only made the effect that much more pronounced.
Behind him stood four other people, two men and two women. One of each gender wore long billowing robes with multiple strips of cloth sewn perfectly on their left shoulders. Mages were the first thing Jonas thought and powerful ones at that. Each colored strip counted as a level of significance in the Towers. The more one had, the more powerful the person was.
The other two wore varying pieces. The man was a hulking monstrosity that made Huemara look tiny-all of it was muscle on top of muscle-and was covered from head to toe in a dark silver armor lined with intricate designs. A red piece of cloth hanging from his waist.
In his right hand was a large triangular shield that curved inwards, it came from the floor to his shoulder in height. In his other hand was a massive flanged mace with a head as large as Jonas's torso.
How the man carried it, like it weighed nothing, was a mystery Jonas did not plan to discover any time soon.
On the other hand, the woman standing directly next to Huemara wore a long black cape with red and gold linings on it. She had on a few pieces of metal to cover her vitals but the reset was a thick set of chainmail. Her black and white hair made her look like a hero from fables and myths.
The fleet suddenly stopped a fair distance from the harbor. They moved into a tight wedge formation like they were about to charge. Each cannon was moved to point forward and behind them were the large bolts meant to sink or pull ships closer. For the first time, Jonas got a real picture of the soldiers and mages that manned the weapons in their actual armor.
They all wore a black and dark silver armor-whether metal or leather-and had a chimera as their insignia on their left shoulders. Long billowing banners, vertical flags, hung from the ship and behind the soldiers. It was solid black with red and gold highlights. In the center was a chimera-lion body, falcon head and legs, bat wings, snakehead tail-and a large blade behind them.
Jonas cursed to himself. That was one he had made when he was still a child. The same colors and insignia he had been proud of until his father and mother laughed it off. The chimera was the embodiment of the beastkin kingdoms and the blade was often used by the orcish clans.
This had to be the last hoorah his younger brother had done to salt his bleeding wounds. Not many would take him serious with such an outrageous banner. He would need to change it as quick as possible, if he could.
As they sat in the calm waters before the port, the walls of the city of Petrous, beyond the harbor, began to show signs of life. Multiple flags were raised each showing a different insignia-representing a family of high nobles. From different colored flowers, to lions, stags, and even a wheat stalk in between them.
The battlements were packed as they saw our fleet wait for any sign from them. And behind the flags was the recognizable bustle of an army rushing to get into positions.
He and his crew probably scared the ever-living daylights out of them showing up without warning, Jonas thought. The forward messenger probably was killed by some random burglar as they weaved through the harbor. How unfortunate.
Within moments, a black ship, sharp and sleek, made its way through the waters. On it were the banners of each faction that controlled the harbor and surrounding waters. Pirates, one and all of them-and the odd mercenary army powerful enough to be recognized-each wearing light clothing.
Jonas felt an innate fear within him from the ship. Multiple powerful individuals rode on it, their figures stood in similar positions to his honor guard. But, unlike the quiet power his soldiers had, that only showed in their confident standings, these men adorned themselves with chains of gold and jewelry over their leather armor. To show their wealth.
The most flamboyant among them, Jonas noticed when they came close enough, had gems sewn onto his jaws. Blue emeralds, red rubies, and at the center of his chin protruding apart from the rest was a clear diamond.
The pirate ship stopped in the middle between our fleet and the harbor. They waited for Jonas's main ship, Leviathan, to meet them in neutral ground.
Huemara waved a hand forward and Jonas's ship lurched forward, its massive size showed no signs of slowing it down or making it look to bulky to change direction fast. As they slowly made their way to the middle, Frezar whispered to the awed Jonas.
"Young Master, stay calm. You will have to speak with these...pirates. Find out why they stand in your way as the rightful master of all the lands beyond this point and the waters to the Lukim ocean. Don't worry we will stand behind you, covering you with our auras to prevent them from unnerving you. You'll do well, just be yourself. Okay?"
"Y-yea," Jonas said, uncertain.
By the time Jonas looked back up, they were almost side by side. He could see the many battle hardened faces of the pirates that manned the ship. Then his eyes fell onto the seven flamboyant ones. He guessed they were the leaders among them all. They had to be to be decked out in gold and jewels.
The Leviathan stopped silently, making the pirates anxious for some reason, Jonas noticed. Even though the two ships were roughly the same size they looked impressed of his flagship.
With a heavy thump, a plank was laid between the two ships. His soldiers rushed forward onto the ship with a command from Huemara and a nod from Jonas. Thirty of them set up two lines of fifteen standing ramrod straight and swords unsheathed pointing upwards. None of them moved as Jonas began to walk towards them.