[ HISPANOLA SHIP ]

```The black silhouette of the Hispanola cut through the grey morning mist. It was a ship unlike any they’d ever seen, ancient and regal, a monument to a forgotten age. For weeks, whispers had rippled through the remaining settlements of the Commonwealth of Roses, whispers that had turned to shouts of awe and fear. The Hispanola was back, and with it, a truth that had been buried for two centuries: The Commander was not dead. Two centuries. That was more time than any living soul in the Commonwealth could comprehend. one of the civilians was a fourth-generation descendant of the survivors, his life shaped by the tales of the commander who vanished during the rebellion, a ghost story that had morphed into a legend whispered around dying campfires. Now, the crimson night had returned, and he’d brought a ship full of… people. Civilians, they were called, taken from some far-off place even the elders had never heard of. It was this that fueled the gnawing unease that had settled over the scattered settlements. Why these people? Why now? What did the commander want after all this time? ```