The Stepstones, Throat-Cutting Isle Main Island
Skree—!
High in the crystalline skies above Throat-Cutting Isle, a magnificent Golden Eagle circled, its predatory gaze sweeping over the burgeoning seaside city below.
Under Jon's vision and investment, the island had undergone a total metamorphosis. The original Pirate Fortress, once a primitive mud-and-stone heap clinging to the coast, was now unrecognizable. Historically, the isle had been little more than a jagged rock, a random supply point held by the lucky "Skullcap" Bill because of its Braavos-like geography. Now, it was a thriving port city.
The Fortress itself had been rebuilt into a "Star-Fort" castle. The original rammed-earth base was encased in precisely cut stone and reinforced with a proprietary, high-strength chemical adhesive Jon had synthesized.
The humble two-story structure had ascended into a five-story bastion. The first floor featured overhanging murder-holes; any enemy attempting to scale the slopes would find themselves showered with arrows and boulders from above. The main approach utilized a Maya-style stepped staircase, but the crude spiked-log traps of the past had been replaced by mechanical iron spiked-rollers. Suspended by heavy industrial chains, these rollers could be deployed, retracted, and reused to turn the ramp into a literal meat grinder.
Stretching out from the castle's shadow was the Dock Market, now laid out in a precise "L" shape. The fortress and city were strictly separated by a new Military Barracks—a buffer zone housing the "Chainbreakers."
Jon's management of his soldiers was distinctly modern. He utilized a rotational shift system, similar to a professional police force or a modern military unit. Unless a state of emergency was declared, the soldiers enjoyed a degree of personal freedom unknown to the average mercenary. Every morning, the synchronized rhythmic chanting of the Chainbreakers' fitness drills echoed through the streets, serving as a reminder of the city's strength to the waking residents.
Skree—!
The eagle veered toward the Market District. The docks had tripled in size and were now strictly zoned: Raw Materials, Finished Goods, and Logistics. This organization prevented the chaotic bottlenecking typical of other Free City ports.
Through Jon's "gold-showering" investment strategy, Cutthroat Isle was no longer a secret. To the merchants of the Narrow Sea, the island was a "shark-feeding frenzy." Merchants from all corners of the world flocked here for the safety and the trade, though Jon knew many were spies for the Archons and Magisters. He didn't mind; trade was the ultimate Trojan horse.
The Market District followed a "Grid-within-a-Square" layout. Nine distinct sectors provided everything from luxury housing to basic blacksmithing. Jon had introduced standardized product weights and unified customer service—concepts that had caused a minor revolution among the visiting traders.
While the island lacked raw natural resources, Jon's "modernized" workshops produced high-quality glass, ceramics, vibrant dyes, and construction adhesives. These products were the "bait" to lure in the real target: the disenfranchised merchants and arms dealers of the Nine Free Cities.
Jon knew that the production power of the Free Cities was crippled by slavery. To rise as a world power, he needed to cultivate a class of allies who shared his vision. He wasn't looking to win over the Slave Lords; he was looking for the merchants who found the slave-monopoly to be a barrier to their own wealth.
The eagle descended toward the Godswood, which Jon had landscaped into a sprawling, lush garden.
Today, the garden was alive with the sizzle of fat and the aroma of charred spices. Jon was hosting a Barbecue Banquet. Long, rectangular iron grills were manned by Chainbreaker chefs, turning skewers of shellfish, fish, shrimp, chicken, beef, and pork. As the skewers browned, they were served immediately to the guests. Tables were piled high with exotic fruits, flatbreads, and a variety of beverages.
In a world of stale hardtack and boiled meats, this vibrant, interactive dining experience was a sensation.
"Lord Jon! Allow me to introduce you," Salladhor Saan said, his voice brimming with opportunistic excitement. The former pirate-turned-admiral gestured to a large man with a mane of golden-blonde curls. "This is Chancellor Trang Taip of the Myr High Council!"
"A pleasure, Chancellor," Jon said, extending a hand. "I am Jon Snow. Welcome to my home."
Trang Taip gripped Jon's hand firmly. His Common Tongue carried a thick Myrish lilt, but his eyes were sharp. "I have heard much of the 'White Wolf' of the Chainbreakers—a warrior who thinks like a merchant. Seeing this place, I know the rumors were too humble."
The Chancellor took a deep sip of wine. "I care little for high blood, Jon. I was born a slave. My master freed me only because my talent for coin outshone my value in the fields. I married his daughter and took his seat, but I have never forgotten the stench of the slave-pens. I despise the system, yet I am a part of it."
"I was nearly a slave myself," Jon replied, finding a common ground. "That is why the Stepstones are no longer a haven for pirates, but a foundation for something better. We are going to topple the old ways."
Trang Taip looked at the gathering of wealthy, curious merchants around them. "So, tell us. Why have you brought us here? Men of our 'special' backgrounds don't gather for just a meal."
Jon turned to face the crowd, a warm, confident smile on his face.
"My goal is simple, gentlemen: I want to help you make more gold than you ever thought possible. I want to make you so powerful that the old Slave Lords become irrelevant. That is how we change the Nine Free Cities."
"And how exactly do you propose we do that?" Trang Taip asked, voicing the question on everyone's mind.
Jon gestured behind him. Frodo, Sam, Pippin, and Merry stepped forward, unfurling a series of large instructional charts behind the grills.
"We are going to have a conversation about the relationship between effort and reward," Jon said, his voice projecting across the garden. "Once you understand the inherent economic inefficiency of a slave, you will understand why the old world must die for us to prosper."