Once again sharing joint command, Admiral Aetius and General Marius stood in the deck of the Thunderer, as the flotilla of warships and troop transports began to drop anchor far outside the docks of Ebongrasp’s harbor. Smoke boiling from the mighty engines, the battleships were forced to anchor quite a distance from the shore because of their bulk. The sun gleamed off the dull steel and painted sides, reflecting through the forest of gun barrels. Dots of white covered every ship, as the idlers amongst the sailors looked it upon the land, which few of them had seen.
While the bigger vessels remained in the deeper portion of the port, the lighter cruisers and some of the troop transports did manage to get directly alongside the planks that groaned under the weight of the disembarking legionaries.
”Good luck.” Aetius murmured to the General, who nodded before taking a small boat to o link up with his army. Upon reaching it, he began marshaling his troops.
”I want a cordon 5 blocks out, and set up barricades. 1st, 2nd, and 3rd cohorts, stand by. Move.” The legion leaped to obey, and soon a section of the city, so far empty to all appearances, was under Valkorian control. Marius knew that it was not however. Therefore, he led one cohort, fully armed, down the Main Street, heading towards the more expensive and decadent homes of the rich, on the general direction of the palace by means of the central plaza. Here and there, a burned home or spattered blood encrusted on the walls marked a place of violence. The soldiers pushed on.