The stories The Voyage to the North and South, The Last Night of Fort Ghafan and Drakas were written as in-universe books by the same character and refer to the different events of the same round. Some of the names of the characters in this story are the ones the actual player characters had (excluding the completely made-up characters).

Drakas

by Wendelin Wirz

With a heavy heart Ivan looked for the last time upon the darkening shores with the dots of streetlights behind. His hopes were crushed. He had dreamed of bringing news of a sanctuary, of a safe and quiet refuge, where the people of his homeland could find shelter from all the horrors that had infested the country. Alas, Ivan had been met with mockery and derision.

'To run to some backwater island, while there's so much for the taking here, when no one polices the streets and guards the state treasuries? Weren't we the ones who toiled to fill them in the first place? Armed bandits? Why, aren't we armed ourselves, eh? Oh, we sure can look after things here, and you can crawl into your pit if you want to!'

All exhortations were lost on these people, even mothers and wifes did not pay heed to Ivan's words. Only a handful of people showed any signs of apprehension, but still, none agreed to leave the continent.

Full of despair, Ivan gave up and departed the capital city on his sloop.

On the third day of his journey the favourable tailwind turned into a stubborn enemy, who was attacking from ahead and forced Ivan to endlessly tack the boat to continue his voyage.

The next day brought no respite to the tired Ivan. The sea had been growing ever restless, and soon enough it was not just grumbling and muttering, but started to snarl, baring its innumerable fangs of white foam, and then finally let out its anger in a furious roar.

Everything seemed to have united with the single purpose - to sink the lowly vessel: the sky, heavy with black clouds, sending down drenching rains, the wind, striking like a falling hammer, and the sea, time after time opening its giant maw, trying to swallow the poor little piece of wood.

Shivering with cold, Ivan now worked only to save the mast and the sails. Despite his best efforts, he could barely steer, and a single wrong movement of the rudder was all it took for another crushing wave to lift the boat from portside and send it tumbling down the water hill.

In a moment of panic Ivan gripped the first thing he felt with his hands, holding onto it as tight as he could, cracking his nails and chafing the skin. His face went under water a few times, then stuck out again, and he gasped for air. Something vast and clinging enveloped his legs and would not let him move them, no matter how he struggled.

Without a single thought, Ivan just pulled himself closer to whatever object he had grabbed and stayed like that, oblivious to what was happening around...

Was it minutes or hours? Ivan slowly opened his eyes. There were patches of clear sky with glistening stars in the thick cover of quickly flowing clouds. The rain had stopped; the storm had not been over yet, but it had already dealt its mightiest blow.

The boat was half full with water. Ivan tried to sit, but fell back, groaning. Dull pain imbued every bone of his body and pulsated in his head.

Now he saw that all this time he had been gripping the chipped stump of the mast. Tattered sail and torn ropes had entangled Ivan's legs. Slowly Ivan freed himself and examined the boat, wondering that it had not simply cracked like a nutshell.

The water keg was gone, along with all the bread and smoked fish. There was not a single one of four oars. Even Ivan's knife and flint were missing.

For some time Ivan occupied himself with getting the water out of the boat, using a piece of the sail as a waterproof bundle. Having done with that, for the most part, he sprawled at the stern, where it was dry.

There hardly was anything that he could do. Without a sail and oars, he was at the mercy of winds and currents. Unless a boat stumbled upon him, which was not that unlikely in these waters, he would be drifting for days before either being driven back to the mainland or swayed to one of the nearby islands, frequented by fishermen.

Who knows how long it will be before he gets word to Lilya, who is waiting for him at their island? Oh, and what a great news that is going to be... City people refused to come, the boat is in need of repairs... Will he even stay alive long enough to finish the journey?

Sad and listless, thinking about nothing but hardships, with one arm hanging overboard, Ivan was looking at the side of the horizon, from which the morning was approaching.

Lulled by the now gentle waves, Ivan nodded off to drowse.

He was awakened by the warmth and light. The sun had risen into the clear skies, with its shining reflection spread on the glistening sea surface.

Someone coughed quietly.

Startled, Ivan straightened up, glancing around.

Opposite to him, at the bow, was a man. The stranger was dressed in a fresh white shirt, black glossy vest and black trousers, and looked liked he had just been at a fashionable salon, a first-class restaurant or at the card table in a casino.

'Ivan, if I am not mistaken?' said the stranger with a cordial smile. 'What a fine morning, don't you agree? But let me introduce myself. My name is Drakas.'

Ivan stared, too confounded to speak.

Drakas gave a short laugh.

'You wouldn't believe me if I told you how many times I have been greeted like this: mouth agape, eyes wide open... the disbelief incarnate. Have no doubt, though, that I am indeed here and speaking with you, and this is not a dream or some play of mind.'

Ivan nodded.

'I suppose,' he said quietly.

'I knew that I would find a level-headed person in you, Ivan. Some can't even come to their senses, while others demonstrate such a cold calmness that it borders on being insulting. But enough about others. I wish to talk about you.'

'Why? Who are you?'

'Oh, well, consider me another participant of this amazing arrangement called "being","universe", what have you. I just happen to have a little more... agency, or, to put it simply, say in things. As to "why"... Think of yourself as of one of a lucky few, to whom the power to choose has been granted.'

'Choose what?'

'Anything! Whatever you desire or deem necessary.'

'I do not understand,' said Ivan after a minute of silence. 'Whose messenger are you, God's or Devil's?'

Drakas laughed again.

'My dear friend, forget all those silly teachings you take for answers to the mysteries of life. Your philosophies are merely amusing misconceptions, albeit some of them are closer to the truth than the others. And to answer your question, I am neither.'

'What is the truth then?'

Drakas folded his arms over his chest and reclined on his seat.

'Is this what you desire? Do you choose the possession of knowledge?' he asked after a short pause.

'No... I don't know. You say you grant me this power, but why me? I am an ordinary man with no special talents.'

'Do you think I would have come to you without a good reason?'

'What would that be? Are you hoping to gain something from me? What can I even offer? Is it my soul?'

Drakas smirked.

'Haven't I just told you to forget all those tales? Soul... Pf! You are, however, correct that there is a price, as with any other choice. What happens when you choose one path over the other? You forgo whatever to which the discarded path leads. And that is the price here as well.'

'But how do I know what I will lose?'

'Do you always know that in life? And don't ask me - I don't know myself! Remember, more say in things does not mean omnipotence or omniscience. All I can do is enable you to realize your intention. I am an instrument of your will, for that matter.'

Ivan was silent for a time. Drakas waited patiently, humming something jovial.

'If there was one thing I could ask,' at last said Ivan slowly, 'it would be an ability to persuade people, to find the right words, to be able to make them understand...'

Drakas was listening to him with great attention.

'Understand what?'

'That they are in danger!' almost cried Ivan. 'They think nothing of what is to come, but I have seen the chaos at our borders! The world is not what it used to be! They need to see that it is time to retreat, so they can at least save themselves!'

'Sounds like a noble purpose, my friend,' said Drakas, quite serious.

'And you can help me?'

'People will listen to you next time you speak... Your words will reach their hearts and minds. That I can help you with... provided that you accept the price,' said Drakas, fixing his eyes on Ivan.

'I am ready to give my life!' said the young man firmly.

Drakas smiled.

'Not too often do I encounter such idealistic disposition. Very well, Ivan. Do you accept my proposal?'

'Yes.'

Drakas nodded.

'That is enough.'

He took out a golden pocket watch out of his vest and looked at it.

'I suggest you keep your eyes... over there,' said Drakas, pointing at the horizon.

Ivan's gaze followed the outstretched arm but there was nothing besides the open sea.

Ivan turned back.

He was alone.