Soaring through the open air was a massive dreadnought forged from heavy steel, forming together to create an enormous vessel. A flying ship, sailing through the sky as multiple large engines rumbled in the background, pushing a terribly hot tornado of flame out, gliding the ship forward. The city of Direfell was quickly coming into view as the ship passed many landmarks at a breakneck pace.

The cities’ ancient and towering walls lumbered ahead, pushing away the dark desert sand and making way for civilization.

Nothing of significance had changed since this vessel had been here last. The citizens continued to hustle from one place to the next, while the commerce was relatively unphased by the events that had transpired during the casting out of an entire clan.

Orion had been a powerful and influential beast throughout many portions of Direfell, but even their control was quite limited when in comparison to the entire cities’ ecosystem.

“Radio tower communications channel seven, reporting in,” a static voice spoke out from the console, “Permission for landing approved, welcome back flagship.”

The computers that crowded the ship let out numerous low-toned beeps as several mechanisms unlatched across the console board, turning green. One of the men sitting within the ship’s command bridge ordered back, “Confirmed, landing on platform E2. Send word that we need a labor crew ready for our arrival, don’t be late.”

“Roger that,” the static voice replied, “I’ll send word to the workshop to be ready. Welcome back to Direfell.”

The pilot turned in his chair as his attention fell upon the consoles in front of him. He pulled on multiple axis controls, twisting and turning them as the ship mimicked their movement. He called out across from him toward another man who sat to his opposite, “Bring us down slowly, we’ve been approved for platform E2.”

“Aye sir,” the other man nodded his head as he ripped up toward several switches above him, flicking them into an on position.

The heavily armored vessel they were piloting was the flagship cruiser of Direfell’s illustrious military captain, sir Roch Cresswell. The outer armor was slick and black, with numerous closed compartments where heavy armaments could be unlatched in mere moments.

The city below had a nostalgic air to it, one that had caused the numerous soldiers and pilots within Roch’s ship to let out an exhale of breath upon returning to. Many of these men considered Direfell to be their home, and so had found refuge and comfort in such a place.

One of the pilots within the command bridge turned to face another man as he ordered out, “Take us down and prepare the landing gear.”

Their ship slowly descended toward the ground, as it did so an enormous amount of both dirt and sand kicked up into the air, tossing about recklessly. “We have landed, I repeat, the DV Aurora has landed.” The man seemed almost self-congratulatory about the whole affair as he clambered out of his seat and released the hatch locks.

Somewhere within the DV Aurora, a group of passengers readied themselves to disembark.

Evelien led their group as Reinout, Droh, and Deus all followed closely behind her. She seemed rather accustomed to everything, moving comfortably through the cabin and down toward the exit.

Deus let out a heavy yawn as he stretched his arms behind his head, twisting himself this way and that. “Ah, it feels so good to move around again.”

Droh chuckled in response, “Right, you tend to lose track of time when you’re flying… I did my fair share of flying when I was in Orion, but since then it’s definitely been awhile.”

“I’m not sure I can ever get used to it… these flying ships have always seemed so out of place here… like they don’t match their environment or tech.”

“Heh,” Droh simply let out a loose sigh in response, dropping his shoulders and loosening his joints after their long journey.

To travel from the tower hidden within the emptiness of the desert back to the iron city of Direfell, several days were spent. It had been a long and boring journey but had allowed Deus and Droh to re-familiarize themselves with their next move and recalling past experiences.

After all, one needed to remember the past so as to grow in the future. If Deus simply shrugged off past experiences, he’d never advance to a point where he could reliably fight on the same level as what he had witnessed previously.

The strength that was shown by individuals such as Androma, Rol’an, even Roch… they were beyond his expectations, and he knew that a fight like theirs wasn’t the last he’d see.

Evelien approached them as she wrapped herself from her neck to her shoulders with this beautifully crafted shroud, almost acting as some type of cloak to hide her skin.

“You two will be staying within quarters that we’ll prepare for you, but before that, you’ll come with us to report back into the Spire.”

Droh gulped as he listened, “The Spire…”

“It shouldn’t take too long, we simply have a few tasks that need to be completed before we can send you both on your way. Oh, and also, it seems that the military captain has reason to speak with you, Deus, once everything is said and done.”

“Does he?” Deus asked quickly, jumping at what she said.

“Indeed. I’m not sure why, but you shouldn’t keep him waiting for long.” Evelien stretched her arm out as she beckoned for her companion, Reinout, to join her. “I’ll have him guide you through the Spire, as our master’s quarters are different from sir Roch’s.”

“Ah, Androma…” Deus recalled their master as he murmured out his name without thinking.

Evelien lifted her eyebrow as he did so, smirking and continuing on with the conversation, “Whatever is needed of you, I imagine it won’t be anything too stressful… after all, there is nothing much that could be expected of you that our current operatives cannot do in your stead.”

“Enough of that, come along… we’ve got quite a few things to do, we can’t waste time idling here.” Reinout spoke out with a heavy exhale, stepping into the middle of their group and bounding away from the DV Aurora’s landing platform, into a separate structure.

Deus, Droh, and Evelien all followed behind Reinout as he guided them, moving crowds of soldiers and citizens out of their way as he pushed through everyone. Reinout was a large and widely known warrior of Direfell, the sort of man whom not only has the backing of the Many-Eyed Crows faction but has been said to be as powerful as many of Roch’s direct subordinates.

A man like that now pushed through the crowd, so it was of absolutely no wonder why he was allowed to do this without being confronted.

Even Evelien knew better than to challenge her companion over something as trivial as that, and so she simply followed behind him, occasionally nodding to the passersby who found themselves disoriented.

All she could do was humbly nod to them, showing empathy at their situation and moving on. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t taken advantage of Reinout’s reputation or character, however, as she would be hard pressed to surrender such an efficient method of wandering through a heavy crowd.

They kept on, walking for what felt like several minutes as they left the landing platform, making their way through a side structure and out onto the main city streets.

Direfell had always been an odd city, one born of both mystery and shadow, while also possessing a wide variety of species along with an active bustle that kept everything refreshing.

It was as if everyone had their own journey, their own story.

Deus had spotted what appeared to be a short humanoid amphibian as his group strolled through the street. This creature was clad in a leather-strapped armor while possessing a single short sword across it’s back, a grey cloth covering its neck and half of the face.

That amphibian warrior hadn’t been the only unique oddity he had spotted, however, as he took notice of countless other humanoid beings, all of them varying in some way or another. Ranging from demonic and evil to simply odd and fascinating.

Arachnid men shrouded in black cloaks, hiding their large mouth fangs beneath their hoods. Along with them, there were also many largely-built and wide shouldered goat-men, each with but a single strap of leather across their chest, and a massive battleaxe in their grasp.

They were all unique in their own way. Different scars, different markings, different stories.

“Droh, look, I finally see another faun,” Deus claimed as he shrugged his head toward a shortly built faun, much older and greyer than Droh.

“Well yeah, it would be odd if you didn’t find any other fauns in such a place…” Droh sighed as he explained. “It would be like being shocked upon seeing another human.”

“Oh,” Deus murmured out in embarrassment. “My apologies, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine—” Droh chortled out as he waved his hand around in the air, releasing his friend from any awkwardness.