The year was early 219 BC, it was a rather cold and breezy evening on the coasts of the Iberian Peninsula (present-day Spain). Carthaginian troops, mercenaries, and various sailors and merchants all crowded and wandered about among the Port of Cartagena. On the outskirts of Cartagena, among a relatively large and stretching military encampment, Carthage stood in her tent, talking to one of her commanders, the gentle sounds of huffing elephants and the subtle sound of patrols' sandals trekking on the campgrounds outside the tent.

"The elephants have been nourished... and our translators have informed the mercenary captain how you want to move forward with this campaign against Rome's dear... friend... Saguntum..."

Stated the commander with a weary tone. Carthage simply nodded, tucking her hair behind her as she thought of a response. She glanced back up at him, her tone firm yet reassuring.

"Good. May Baʿal Ḥamon turn the weather in our favor... for at least... the next several months. I have no further word with you, you may leave."

Carthage lazily gestured for the commander to exit her tent, turning away as she did. When he nodded and quickly left, Carthage let out a sigh and began to rub her face in both resentment and strange excitement. Saguntum had always been an annoyance to her, with Rome heavily protecting the somewhat insignificant Saguntine, but she also saw it as an opportunity to spark yet another Punic War against her Latin rival.