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The Great Felsen Fire, 1567

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A bearded guard stands by the fires, attempting to usher all the stubborn civilians out of the street. Between barking orders and assisting with the fire, he'd rub the side of his face, muttering to himself, "I'm getting real sick of this fire motif 'round the city. . ."

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Millosm Lepida relaxes in the Dreadlands, not giving a single damn about Oren's problems.

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Seraphina Warlai hears the news about the filthy, brutish city she used to walk through everyday, and a slight smile appears on her face.

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