A bitterly cold morning began on the dry, unfertile Umbral Desert, frost crystalizing on the tips of harsh desert vegetation. The rising sun would soon bring unbearable heat, and the frost would vaporize in the heat waves. A black ribbon of highway cut through the stepped desert, snaking around buttes and rocky mesas. It lay empty save for a large, weather-beaten bus that cruised down the buckling road.
A pair of amber eyes gazed out into the desert as it rushed past, blinking sleepily as the early morning light crept over the horizon. He had been on the road for three days now, but was close to his destination. The figure, clad in thick heavy duty pants and a fur lined vest that was pulled over a full set of Roshidin combat armor from the far east put an arm around a large gun case. His gaze wandered from the window to the interior of the bus.
Just ahead sat the driver, an old, tired looking imp with rough grey facial hair. A pair of gold rimmed glasses sat perched on the tip of his wide, flat nose as he stared blankly ahead at the road. Several seats behind and on the opposite side of the aisle a tiefling woman lay sleeping against the side of the bus, her face pressed heavily against the dirty brown window. Further back a young hellhound lay across his seat, idly scrolling through his phone. The bus had been mostly empty, with very few people if any getting on or off at the far flung stops.
The driver groped for his radio, and finding brought it up to his lips. "Our next stop is Imp City, ten miles away." he muttered, his voice crackling softly through the bus.
The figure in the front seat allowed himself a small, almost unnoticeable smile. He was close now.
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Fireflight
FanfictionJust months before the third Great War between the Silver Legion and the many ducal states to the west, tension brews along the great northern border. The Silver Legion continues to make grabs, growing in power and prestige. The threat of the third...