Atop the hill overlooking the sea, right at the center of what used to be called Lioness Kingdom, a fort could be seen.
The fort was abandoned, traces of dried blood, debris and fallen rocks littered the floor. Tattered remains of proud banners made of fine fabric served as a reminder of its former glory.
Hundreds of people filled the fort, all wearing rag-tag uniforms. They were screaming and talking with each other, creating a cacophony that could be heard even from outside.
In the middle of the fort, stood half a dozen poles marred with fresh blood. One person was tied up on each, their body full of lacerations and exposed to the heat of the sun. The tang of iron could be felt in the air, but none of them seemed bothered by it.
A large muscled man stood on a raised platform, right next to the chained and tortured victims. Meanwhile, a hundred men kept cheering his every move.
