Chronicles of Dras

Chapter 16: The Voyage Continues

The ship rocked gently on the waves as Dras, his squad, and Sergeant Keldorn approached Commander Rhea's quarters. The atmosphere was tense, the anticipation of delivering grave news causing their hearts to race. They stood before the Commander, a formidable figure known for his unyielding demeanor and straightforward approach.

Commander Rhea listened attentively as they recounted their encounter with the Dark Ones and the details of their plot. His brows knitted together, his gaze focused on the map laid out on his table. The silence in the room was palpable, the weight of their revelation settling heavily in the air.

As they finished speaking, Commander Rhea's gaze shifted from the map to each member of the group. "Dark Ones impersonating Danann... creating chaos before their true attack," he mused, his voice a deep rumble. "If they succeed, it could tip the scales of this conflict in their favor."

He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in thought. "Very well," he finally said, his tone grave. "This changes our plans. Dras, your squad will make your way to IronFord, the city on the border of Darlor and Danann. Warn the tribe chief of the impending danger. We cannot let this scheme go unchecked."

Sergeant Keldorn, his voice carrying his characteristic accent, suggested, "Darius can sail ye there. He's a good friend of mine, and his ship is swift."

Commander Rhea nodded, his expression stern. "Time is against us. Do what needs to be done."

However, before they could depart, Commander Rhea dropped another bombshell. "Due to Joren's recovery, Dras," he declared, his gaze unwavering, "you will be promoted as the squad leader."

The news was met with a mix of reactions. Congratulations and smiles came from some squad members, while others exchanged surprised glances. Joren's reaction, however, was different. His face contorted with a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

"You?" Joren's voice was laced with incredulity, his resentment clear. "You're promoting him?"

Commander Rhea's gaze turned cold as he fixed it on Joren. "Yes," he said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. "Dras's actions have proven his leadership. You would do well to respect that decision."

Joren's mouth opened as if to retort, but Commander Rhea's unyielding stare silenced him. The room was charged with tension, the weight of authority and decision hanging in the air. Joren's shoulders slumped, defeated anger evident in his eyes.

The Commander's gaze shifted back to Dras. "Dismissed," he said curtly, indicating that their meeting was over.

___________________________________

As their ship carved a path through the glistening waves, Darius's penchant for spirited sailing became evident. The vessel surged forward, driven by the wind's eager embrace. Laughter and animated tales filled the air, the camaraderie among the squad and their burly sailor guide flourishing with every nautical mile.

Darius, a natural raconteur, regaled them with captivating stories. His voice carried the lilting cadence of a seafarer's wisdom as he recounted daring exploits that had taken him to the farthest reaches of their world. His narratives wove a tapestry of daring ventures, close encounters, and the bonds forged between sailors who confronted the unpredictable embrace of the open sea. The squad hung onto his every word, envisioning tempestuous oceans, distant islands, and the treasures concealed beneath the waves.

"Aye, ye should've seen the storm that crashed upon us near the Cragged Isles," Darius chuckled, his eyes dancing with mirth. "Waves towerin' like giants they were! We clung to the rigging like monkeys, and the ship danced with the lightning. But we weathered it, and brought home rare spices as our prize!"