November 24th, 1655
The city of Makran, Southeastern part of the Safavid Empire, on the Gulf of Oman.
03:30 AM
*Step* *Step* *Step*
Along with his army of a battalion and three companies, Hossein Qoli Beg Shamlu excitedly marched through the street as he heard the sounds of men fighting upon entering Kharghar Street, his destination, which is at the northeasternmost corner of the city.
During his march, he couldn't help but imagine his rewards after defeating these tribals himself and claiming the head of their leader, making him the victor of the small game between the noble families. He could see the clan master praising him and promoting his role within the family right before his eyes. Then maybe, just maybe, although barren, he could actually rule this remote city. Hossein thought with a hint of cunning and greed in his eyes.
" Ahhh "
*Bham*
" Please, Nooo "
