A good show ?

The sharp bark of Captain Eryndor's command cut through the bustling docks. "Get ready! We are sailing." 

The atmosphere shifted instantly, tension snapping taut like a drawn bowstring. The crew sprang into action, casting off lines and adjusting sails with practiced precision. The adventurers, mercenaries, and mages hurried to their positions, their earlier conversations replaced by grim silence. Everyone knew what was coming—the first step into danger. 

Lucavion pushed off from the railing and moved toward his designated spot near the middle of the formation. Around him, the organized chaos of departure swirled, a symphony of shouts, creaking wood, and the steady crash of waves against the hull. He inhaled deeply, the salty tang of the sea air filling his lungs. Here we go, he thought, his smirk returning as he adjusted the collar of his coat. 

[Excited?] Vitaliara asked, perched lightly on his shoulder, her glowing form shimmering faintly.