Erik
The Pirate King Bradai Maith

Off the coast of Erba, on the Leviathan Jetty.

 "Fuck vhis place." The Pirate King had been jumpier since the fleet disembarked from Tonate Proper a few days prior. He had managed to coop himself up inside the captain's quarters for the first few day of the trip. Eventually, however, the Pirate King came on deck, taking on the mantle for every job from quartermaster to sous chef. Everything was going to be done to his specific instructions, because as he put it, this was going to be one of the best shows they ever put on. 

"Wiff tha Araedians," The Pirate King spoke, "Everyfing is a fucking performance. If vhey want us to be vheir Noble Savage, we will be vheir noble savages, do you understand me?!" He was caught pacing the top decks, pointing wildly and stopping the common sailors to speak to them on their behavior in Erba. "You do not _speak_ to vhese cunts unless you are spoken to. Go onto the shores, drink vheir ale, fuck vheir 'ores, live on vheir docks, but _never_ disrespect vhem. Erba, if all fings work out, will be one uff our new 'omes. Right under tha fat nose uff tha murderous Juliana de Barbaric. It will be a show she will never forget. Tha moment 'er pure lands were sullied by the arrival of a new, _empowered_ Shitblood. We scare vhem, we live under tha Black Poppy, boys. We're a new breed. Let vhem rely on us. Vhey fink we're 'ere to till tha fields." It inspired a good amount of cheers from the men on deck of the Leviathan.

The Leviathans were also a new breed. It was the first time a ship of it's kind had left the Isles. Three rows of ballistas poked from the sides with another row on the top deck, complete with sea fire siphons concealed towards the back. Three masts of black flags, all sporting the large teal poppy flower. The wood was similarly painted black, with long yellow stripes across the side. Rumors told that the larger ballistas, near the top of the ship, sported large chains that could pull in fleeing ships for boarding. It was absolutely monstrous, a testament to the power that was quickly amassing in the archipelago. 

It would roll up to the Araedian cost the moment the sun fell under the horizon. To the relatively sleepy port of Erba, things appeared to be shutting down to the night, but the Pirate King could see the lights on the dock being relit as the Leviathan Jetty entered into their waters. He let out a soft chuckle, removing the spyglass from his hip and extending it towards the shore. "Fuckin' 'ell. Vhey won't know what to do wiff vhemselves." He hung back on the rigging, shouting to the men lined along the upper deck. "SOUND THA DRUMS, VHEN!" 

Without warning, one hundred snare drums erupted across the decks of the three ships that were sailing into harbor. It was typical of the Southern Isles, when arriving at a foreign port, for patriarch of that clan to sound off before arriving. This particular beat was that of the Maith Clan, and signified a peace treaty. To the people on the shoreline, though, it sounded like thunder.

Dimitri Novikov stood behind The Pirate King, maintaining a surprising amount of balance on such rough waves. "Don't you think this is a—" The Advisor pursed his lips and spoke in a deadpan tone, "A little _much_ for Juliana to handle? What about subtlety?" 


"When it comes to Juliana De Barbaric—" The prow of the ship rose against the white spray of the tossing waves, and his grip around the rigging tightened, "Fuck subtlety."
Douglas
Provincial Brandon Welles
Meros Castle, Erba. 

Brandon, Tresten, and Leon sat by the fire in the front drawing room. Tresten seemed to nod off whenever he sat anywhere remotely comfortable for 5 minutes, Leon was constantly reading, and Brandon... Well, it was a miracle he was actually having a seat. He hadn't ventured into self pity, but a few more ales and he'd be at its door. They exhausted all their rum from the Isles, there was absolutely no word from Bradai for weeks, and he was beginning to feel like he was tasked with delivering his own murder weapon again. He scratched the spot where Dimitri shot him the first time, and it made him laugh. 

Leon looked up from over the pages of his book, "What?"
Brandon shook his head, "Nothing."
Leon hummed, "At least you're finding a way to entertain yourself while you're here."

Brandon sat back in his seat and heavily landed his boot against the small table nearest his chair. There were glasses on it, they made a loud noise besides the thud that woke Tresten up just in time to see Brandon cross his leg over the other. Brandon put his hands behind his head, "I keep telling you, Father. I'm not going anywhere."

Leon laughed, "You've said that, yes. Tell me, Bran. Is it all going according to plan? You've been here quite some time. Did this shipment of the holy grail arrive yet? Have I missed it?" He closed his book to put his full attention on tormenting his son. "You've been sitting around here making plans that will never come to fruition because you put your faith in people who would gladly skin you alive and wear you for an ounce of the things you possess. You're a fool, always have been. You won't last another week. Tell me you're not pondering how long has it been since you've given your whore a place to rest her head..."

Brandon sat motionless, staring at him. 

Leon nodded, "Not to worry, My Boy. Those sorts are always resourceful. She has three other Brandon Welles on rotation." 

Brandon put his feet on the floor then leaned his elbows on his knees starting over at Leon, "Someday, Father. Sooner than you think..." He pointed over at him, "You will become a loose end." He sat back, resting his hands on the arms of his chair. "I will have a decision to make about ending your life, and everytime you open your fuckin' mouth... You tip the scales." 

Leon sat further on the edge of his seat to reply, but Tresten sat up too. Before Leon could get a word out Tresten said, "Shut up.." Leon raised his eyebrow, "No *Shitblood* From the Southern Isles is going to-" Tresten stood up abruptly to walk over to the windows, Leon flinched slightly and decided not to finish his sentence. Daylight was fading, the sky was a deep purple, and the lights at the port were just being lit. Brandon came over to the window to see what was happening as well.

"What the hell is that sound?" Leon asked before he also ventured over to the window, forcing Brandon and Tresten out of the way. Brandon was happily shoved, the smile on his face indicated he didn't care one bit. Tresten smirked then smacked Bran on the shoulder, "It's 'ere." He left the room immediately, headed straight to tell the crew to get their shit together because The Pirate King was arriving. 

Leon turned around to face Brandon after seeing the three massive ships coming into port. Leon's eyes were wide, lips tight, everything about him seething with anger. He grabbed Brandon by his shirt and threw him against the wall, "What the hell have you done, you fucking imbecile!" He slammed him against the wall again, "If you think I'll save you from hanging this time, you're out of your mind. You've gone too far! This is treason! This is unforgivable! I should kill you myself, you fool!" Brandon laughed, "If you do not let go of me in the next 10 seconds, I will allow the man with the bow pointed directly at your neck to fire." Leon turned his head, and sure enough there was a member of Bran's crew with the shot lined up. He looked back to Brandon who smiled, "Tick tock..." Leon shoved Brandon again, but he released him afterwards. 

Brandon smoothed out his shirt, "Keep him in here. If he tries to escape, kill him." He walked over towards the door, "He's a prisoner in our house now, Lads." Bran stopped right before he walked out the room for good to look back at Leon, "You have been for weeks."

_________

Even though Leon wasn't able to alert the Queen, a few of her men were at the port in Erba at all times. They sent a rider to High Bloom as soon as the drums were sounded and the flags were spotted. Another one soon followed to report a sighting of Provincial Brandon Welles arriving to greet The Pirate King, Bradai Maith.
Erik
The Pirate King Bradai Maith

The City of Erba

The moment the Pirate King's foot stepped on Araedian soil, he spit onto the gravel and pressed on it with the tip of his boot. He hated Araedia. He hated every aspect of this terrible place. The three Leviathans were quickly being docked, unloading copious amounts of supplies that would undoubtedly sail up the river Zacil and into Erillia. They had breathed new life into what was supposedly going to be yet another lazy night in Erba. 

A group of town guards had formed to receive them, although they didn't exactly seem like a welcoming party. Behind him, the sounds of cheering and music erupted on the decks of the ships. It was where the majority of the sailors were going to spend the next few weeks. The Kingsguard shifted around Bradai and Dimitri, keeping them guarded from any potential threats that might meet them minutes into their arrival. 

"If vhat little Araedian fuck bailed on us, I'll 'ave 'is fucking neck." Bradai craned his neck above the shoulders of his personal guard, looking for anyone to break up what was quickly brewing into a small skirmish on the quay.
Douglas
Provincial Brandon Welles
Bentwater Port, Erba. 

Brandon waited on land for quite a while before Bradai stepped on Araedian ground. He watched the ships dock a little taken back by how big they were. In comparison, his ship was dwarfed. He couldn't imagine having to do battle with that thing. His ship was a simple tradesman ship, the leviathans were destroyers. It would be a lie to say that Brandon was fully prepared to deal with the fall out with his Father when he first arrived, but the weeks had proven to him that he absolutely made the right decision. Any hesitation he had was gone, so when Bradai actually came ashore, he was more than prepared to welcome him. 

The music and party atmosphere coming from the ships was completely his element. He didn't consider his crew guards, but it was becoming more clear that they played that sort of role for Brandon. They traveled with him when he went to greet Bradai. Of course, they were tragically outnumbered. They fought and died together though, and Brandon was unarmed. Perhaps he was a fool as his father declared, but for the most part he trusted Bradai. 

He walked up to the town guards, cutting through them, much to their confusion. They hadn't seen Brandon Welles in years, but were well aware that what the Provincial said at that moment would be crucial to their next actions. Bran's crew and the guards intertwined, and Brandon stood in front of them. He couldn't quite see Bradai clearly because of his wall of a guard, but he did his best to look around him. "King Bradai Maith," He said with a straight face before he smirked... "It's about fuckin' time." He turned around to the town's guards, "Make a hole. The Pirate King is a most welcomed guest."