A cradle of life sat amidst a sea of heat and sand, in the eternal shade of a deity-tree so ancient it remembered times when Gods walked this sphere. Sustained by rivers of lifesap from the behemoth above, and the uncertain riches of the living dungeons below. A miracle of preservation and screams of defiance in the face of harsh, ceaseless elements. 

But Veska mostly noticed how orange everything was. The walls that loomed behind them, the streets before her, the buildings that seemed to roll into the distance. Only the stone roads beneath her feet were not some sunset hue. Those were the same shale gray as the solemn temples and godstones that rose above all else throughout the city. 

Drell had caught up and strode alongside Veska as they followed the roads deeper into the city. 

"Friendly place." She remarked. "Loose laws, no connections with the rest of the world, locals take time to warm up to you though. Not a bad place to be." 

"Long as you stay out of any alleys, don't accept gifts from shady merchants or generally wander into the undercity without protection." Drell added. 

"Well my esteemed guide," Veska purred from beneath her hood. "Do tell me of the places of interest one should seek out and avoid." 

Drell raised one arm and began to point at each distant structure or place in turn. 

"The Lifestone Keep," She motioned to a towering fortress of stone towards the city's western end, near the solid walls of the Forefather tree. "All the liquid leached from inside the Forefather is kept there, and rationed to the people." 

"The Godstone of Illgorath, the Phoenix Queen." She gestured to an excruciatingly detailed rock that rose above the surrounding sea of buildings, a helmed woman staring at the sun. "The faithful come there to make their offerings, or bid help from the God-Empress and her agents." 

"I'll make note to keep a considerable distance." Veska sighed. "Self-immolation is distinctly far down the list of how I want to die."

"Oh, right." Drell realized, lowering her arm. "Holy energy being the anathema of demonic existence and all that." 

"You can't spot them from here, but the city has all the relevant Houses inside its walls. The House of Blades, The Mage-Shrine," She recounted off her fingers, turning a corner with Veska in tow. "The House of Whispers, The Hidden Blade and nearly all the smaller ones although I've never sought them out myself." 

"Now, the truly important places," She continued. "The Molten Depths are the first choice for those with a discerning eye. Great variety of species and types, sure to please the eye and the body. Exceptionally overpriced in my opinion, however."

"The Prancing Goblin is for those with less immediate sums of coin and highly immediate needs. Don't pay everything upfront unless you're interested in the fastest, most halfhearted fingerbang ever." She continued, sounding almost cross. 

"Madam Escellisha's is the in-between, lots of mixing, both in species, genitalia and quality-"

"Are you," The succubus turned her face to Drell. "Describing all the city's brothels?" 

The demonslayer shrugged, not missing a beat. 

"Important places for one such as myself." She replied stoically. "Needs don't fulfill themselves, and what you can do for yourself gets tiring after a while."

"Fair enough." The demoness sighed. "I'll keep them in mind if your mouth ever isn't immediately available for me." 

That got Drell to blush and bite her lip. Just a little.

The two continued through the city, walking past tanned humans, blue-skinned Tieflings, various demi-humans and even the occasional sour-faced dwarf. 

Veska paused to read a large, roughly drawn sign hanging from the side of a shop, a skull drawn at the top and blocky letters filling its canvas. 

"For more information on lung-rot, keep chewing." She read aloud. 

Drell grimaced.

"You'll see what it means soon enough." 

It too was left behind as the duo made their way deeper into the Free City's center, seeking the House of Blades. Even in the shade of the Forefather, the heat was oppressive to Drell's body. Her orcish blood gave her some resistance to it, and she strode along with a facade of indifference. Yet within, edges of fatigue were growing. 

Mixed perhaps with a distinct lack of sleep in the past several days. 

A simple sword stood upright above a wooden gate at their destination. A bored elven guard leaned against a halberd to one side, and a hollow suit of armor stood ever vigilant across from her. 

"The House of Blades." Drell happily announced. "Only the home of the finest, most heartless mercenaries, thick-witted brutes, berserkers, fiends, knaves who would steal your purse rather than save your life and even a smattering of undead." 

"My kind of people." She beamed. 

"I'm sure." Veska agreed. "I hope my presence won't be an issue?" 

"Naw." Drell waved off her concerns. "Most of em would sooner fight a rabid Wych-beast than cross me, or so I've been told. You'll get a few odd looks, but if an undead tentacle monster could become a member, I'm certain you shouldn't be much harder to get in." 

She paused for a second, thinking.

"Relatively, anyway. I can't make total guarantees here." 

A toothy grin on her face, Drell blew a kiss to the elf and waved hello to the automaton who stood guard. Felstia flipped her off in return, a sour look creeping onto her already bored features. 

"Cheerful as ever, Fel." The half-breed remarked, sauntering up and leaning against the wooden stair rails. "Morri put you on punishment duty again?" 

"Fack you." Came the grumpy reply, the pale elf pulling her hat down even further. "How was a lass sposed tah know the lout I drowned was some dandered priss from the queefin' Kingdoms?" 

Drell's smile nearly reached her eyes now, all teeth and hidden malice. 

"Perhaps if you didn't cheat at cards so much, the lad wouldn't have raised issue with his friends." 

"Fack you as well." The miserable look on the elf's face was a sign as to how long she had been forced to stand watch, and how long she would be occupying the same spot in the future. 

"Well," The demonslayer grinned. "I seem to find myself burdened by the spoils of my most recent hunt. Shame you won't be at the card tables to help me relieve the load."

The string of elven curses under Felstia's breath and the absolutely foul look writ on her features made Drell's day. She heaved herself off the rail, pushed open the doors and strode inside, Veska at her side. 

The dregs of humanity greeted her, and she beamed in return. To say the room was crowded would be an overstatement, but it was filled nicely. The bar had but a few empty seats, and the tables and booths along the wall were full. 

Something was happening soon, she reckoned. The place would only be this stocked if Morrilath had sent out the call. Her reception was mixed, same as her reputation. Some sour looks from rivals and those who disliked her, some greetings from friends or people she had worked alongside. More than a few inquiring stares as Veska's cloaked form.  

A towering slab of humanity stood behind the counter, all muscle and scars, his armor clothing barely able to contain a giant's form. 

"You're back." The man stated flatly, words somehow finding their way through the glorious mustache Drell knew he painstakingly groomed. "Shame." 

Veins bulged along muscled arms as he pulled open a safe with deliberate slowness. A single piece of parchment was retrieved, and slapped on the counter before her. 

"Only one reason you'd be fool enough to show your face around here." He growled. "The debt is long overdue. Coin on the counter or get back out that door." 

"Nice to see you too, Reufus." Drell grumbled, fishing a pouch of coin from her pack. Her payment for destroying the dungeon core where she found Veska. "All here." 

"My own eyes will judge that." The man growled, snatching the purse from her hand and upending it. "Won't be the first time you've lied to my face." 

"Must we really?" Drell sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're so hung up on the past." 

Sharp eyes tracked every coin, giant fingers carefully sorting them into precise stacks. Drell drummed her fingers upon her own forearms, arms crossed as she waited for Reufus to finish. 

Without ceremony, he swept the coins back into the pouch's leather confines and stowed it beneath the counter. 

A massive fist was planted on the counter as the dark-haired man leaned forward, looming over her. 

"Mistress Morrilath has left notice that she wants to see your ugly face upstairs." He growled. "Alone."

Well, that wasn't at all foreboding. And his tone made it clear the 'alone' part was non-negotiable. 

"I'll be back in a bit," Drell huffed in annoyance, turning to Veska. "I trust you not to suck someone's soul out in the meantime." 

"I'll find ample amusement for myself while you deal with whatever business requires you," The succubus assured her, lazily waving a hand in her general direction from where she was leaning against a wooden pillar. "We'll have more than enough quality time later." 

Leaving the demoness to her lecherous ogling of the patrons, Drell grimaced and began to climb the stairs next to the counter. Morrilath wanted something, and she doubted it was her fabulous company. 

Morrilath Glakis was living, breathing, unshakable proof that judging by looks alone was a sure road to an early grave. The halfling Housemaster had a deceptively easy smile, her small posture at ease as she beckoned Drell into her domain. The tiny woman bounced up on her impromptu throne, dismissing magical hands that carried sheets of documents before her. 

"Drell'akoshta!" She beamed, her arms spread wide. "Alive and well." Her tribal robes fluttered as she plopped back into the mound of cushions upon the throne's steel seat, greeting finished. 

"As I didn't happen to hear my establishment being torn to pieces around me," She beamed. "And you are decidedly in one piece, and lacking Reufus's blood all over you, I take your outstanding debt for damages incurred has been paid in full?" 

"Aye." Drell sighed, noting the halfling still hadn't brought in anything for her guests to sit on. "In full, with some left over."

"I'm sure that will go towards any future incidents you inevitably cause." The halfling waved her off with one tanned hand. 

"Now," She spoke, tone shifting from pleasant to brisk. "Business. Of which there are several orders." 

"Oh joy." The slayer sighed in return. "I was looking forward to just paying what I owed and fucking right off again." 

"Too late for that." Morrilath matter-of-factly informed her. "We have matters to attend to. Seeing as you've chosen to grace us with your presence, there are several matters that need to be taken care of."

"The very obvious bloated dragon in the room, perhaps?" Drell suggested, raising an eyebrow. 

A slight shift of displeasure on the halfling's otherwise pleasant features. 

"That, is need-to-know. As in you don't. There is still some time before this information will be given to you and the rest, and I suggest you not seek it out beforehand." Morrilath spoke sternly. "For the good of the House, of course." 

"What then?" The demonslayer replied, arms crossed and head tilted slightly to one side. 

"What do you know of the Sunken Tower?" The housemistress spoke, shifting herself to burrow further into the mound of cushions around her.

"Nothing." Drell shrugged. 

"I suppose I shouldn't expect someone like you to know or care about this city's history." The halfling sighed. "If I must indulge you with this history lesson, here is the short version." 

A scroll appeared out of thin air and the halfling snatched it, tossing it to Drell in a single motion. Unfurling it revealed a drawn map of the city's surrounding areas, with a single place circled. 

"A quarter day's ride from here lie the ruins of an old dungeon. Back, long before you wandered into this place, that was a healthy, functional dungeon. Generally speaking, there was nothing special about it. Just another grinder to feed resources into, train recruits in and extract different resources from. Nothing of great value." The small woman recounted. 

"Then one day it just woke up and chose violence. It warped from a stable core into an extinction orb, and began sending out waves of monsters to scour the wasteland. It was swiftly dealt with, the insides gutted and core thoroughly destroyed." 

Drell nodded along, not bothering to interrupt until the end. 

"Not far from there, the House of Whispers has a listening post, meant to keep an eye and ear on the wasteland. As of late, there have been stirrings from the dungeon's remnants. I want you to go in there, find whatever this disturbance is and deal with it." Her tone made it clear what she considered dealing with it. 

"Simple enough." Drell replied. "Nothing I haven't done before." 

"Good." Morrilath nodded. "This time, leave nothing inhabitable behind. Take mounts and visit one of the House's forward camps half a day's ride south from here. The mercenaries there will stock you up on supplies and several specialities needed for your task." 

"Noted. Is that all?" 

"Indeed." Morrilath nodded. "Safe travels, Drell'Akoshta." 

Drell nodded once in return, then turned and strode from the room. There was still daylight left. Time to find Veska, secure mounts and then find an inn for the night. Whether they got any sleep or not would be entirely up to her mood.