Chronicles of Dras

Chapter 19: Surprises and Preparations

The revelation of Trax's identity left Dras and the squad slack-jawed in surprise. They exchanged incredulous glances, a mixture of shock and amusement playing across their features. Dras couldn't help but blurt out, "Why didn't you mention this before?"

Trax's response was accompanied by a nonchalant shrug and a glint in his eyes that hinted at a mischievous streak beneath his practical exterior. "Well, lad," he began in his characteristic earthy voice, "a chief needs a wee bit o' adventure now and then. Keeps the spirit alive, ye ken? And truth be told, I've a fondness for the wild mountains and the solace they offer."

As his words sank in, the squad couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected revelation. Maris leaned forward, a grin tugging at his lips. "So, you're not just a leader in the fortress, but a wanderer as well?"

Trax's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Aye, lad. There's wisdom in wanderin'. Clears the mind and lets ye see things from a different vantage."

Dras's curiosity got the better of him. "And the tavern? What's so special about it?"

Trax's smile broadened, his eyes dancing with a mixture of fondness and mirth. "Ah, the tavern," he said with a chuckle, "it's where I go to blend in with the folk, share stories, and have a bit of fun. Besides, the tavern keeper brews a fine ale that's a balm for the soul."

Alia's skepticism lingered as she considered the implications. "But doesn't it risk your safety? What if someone recognizes you?"

Trax's response was accompanied by a reassuring nod. "Aye, there's that risk, but Darlor's folk are a hearty lot. They dinnae care for titles, just a hearty laugh and a good tale."

Toren's analytical mind couldn't resist asking, "And how do ye manage yer duties as a chief while gallivanting about?"

Trax's answer was simple and pragmatic. "Well, lad, the trust I've placed in me advisers lets me take these jaunts. And sometimes, a bit of distance can bring clarity to matters weighin' heavy on the mind."

With the questions about Trax's dual roles addressed, the conversation flowed into more practical matters. Trax's gaze turned serious as he shared his strategy. "I've a friend across the border," he revealed, "a skilled Danann who can aid us further. Aye, I've sent a message, and help will be forthcoming."

Dras leaned forward, his gratitude evident. "Thank you, Trax. We're in your debt."

Trax waved off the sentiment with a casual gesture. "Nae need for that, lad. We're in this together, and together we'll face the Dark Ones."

Before long, the conversation shifted towards the immediate future. Trax, with a decisive nod, turned to a soldier stationed nearby and issued a directive. "Arrange lodgings for our guests," he instructed, "somewhere comfortable where they can rest and find some solace. They've earned it."

As the soldier saluted and left the room to carry out the orders, Trax leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "There's much to discuss and plans to make," he said, his words carrying the weight of responsibility, "but for now, lads and lasses, let's give ye a bit of time to unwind. The challenges ahead will test yer mettle, so enjoy the calm while it lasts."

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Guided by the sturdy dwarf guard, the squad made their way through the winding passages of the fortress. The stone walls exuded a sense of history and strength, their rough-hewn surfaces adorned with intricate dwarven runes that told tales of ages past. The guard's footsteps echoed against the stone floor, a steady rhythm that led them towards the heart of the mountainous stronghold.

As they ventured further, the air grew cooler and carried the faint scent of earth and metal. Torches lining the corridors cast flickering shadows that danced along the walls, creating an otherworldly atmosphere that seemed to beckon them into the depths of the fortress. The journey was a blend of anticipation and curiosity, the squad's footsteps a symphony of determination that echoed through the ancient halls.