In a few minutes, Traxler reached Public Transport C of Donkeybad. No one else was with him. The station was never busy during the mornings, as most people worked close to home. This particular station was the least reputable of the transports but also the easiest to get into. After all, the station was nothing but an assortment of rusted metal poles and rails; the government tended to be biased in the areas it decided to fund. They believed in rewarding only those who showed the most potential.

Traxler had been waiting for a few minutes when, at last, the bus arrived. The bus itself could only be described as a metal box with wheels. He jumped inside, and was immediately hit with the stench of sweat. He sat in one of the corners, ignoring the other shady figures skulking inside. He absorbed himself in his book while he waited to arrive at headquarters.

The book, titled “Records of the Illustrious Groont”, was the work of Arrus Groont, one of the ancient pioneers of agriculture and a founder of the Daphinde. His knowledge of the sciences was already ahead of his time. But Groont was also concerned with the history of civilization. He considered his progress in uncovering the mysteries of humanity’s past to be his most impressive achievement..

After five minutes, the bus stopped. There was no announcement as Bus C had no speakers, of course. Traxler waited until the shady figures had shuffled out of the bus and hopped outside. He was in a dark dirty alley squeezed in by two incredibly tall brick walls; this was Street 771. It was dark and musty, reeking of burnt trash and suspiciously-scented residue.

Traxler walked a few hundred yards before pulling on a subtly marked door camouflaged in the brick wall on his right. He took a very particular path in the old abandoned building, being sure to avoid any people that wandered about. He took a staircase to the highest floor, a long array of rooms with a narrow corridor between them.

He took out a bronze key with the Daphinde insignia and inserted it into the third door on the left. It swung open.

As he stepped into the waiting room and shut the door, all the bustle below seemed to evaporate. The walls were soundproof, and the blue tint of the lights gave the room a calm atmosphere. The main reason the Daphinde chose such an unconventional location was the anonymity it provided.

“Hey, Mennin,” Traxler said, greeting the man who sat at the desk in the entrance. He would be mostly seen answering calls and working on the Daphinde’s logistics here; However, like most members, he had some very special abilities.

“Hey, Trax. Arvon is waiting for you in room 18.”

“Thanks.”

Traxler walked into the hallway. Most of the rooms were open and unoccupied. Today was not a busy day for exploring, it seemed.

As he stepped into room 18, he almost thought it was unoccupied; but no, Arvon was just being unnaturally still as usual, hiding in plain sight among the black desks and shelves.

“Greetings, Traxler.” His voice was plain and monotone. Arvon was a perfect recruit for the Daphinde; responsible, organized, unquestioning, rarely doing more than asked, but still diligent.

“Hey! Mr. Brood!” Traxler replied. Arvon winced. No one addressed him by his last name other than Traxler, but he found no reason to protest as it was still a correct way of addressing him. It was somehow a source of embarrassment. At least, that’s what it looked like to Traxler.

“As you know, you have been tasked with Mission C - the one involving the Red Ravine. I apologize, we have not had the staff today to issue more details. Most of our members seem to subscribe to a religion that prohibits working on specific days, and this is one of them.”

Traxler suppressed a laugh. The staff would do anything to avoid coming to the building on days like these, when there was little work to do. Only Mennin and Arvon stayed in the headquarters, Mennin because of his discipline and importance to the organization, and Arvon because of his obliviousness.

“So, what do you know already?” Arvon asked.

“I’m with a group of explorers. I’m transporting some package to the Red Ravine of Alve, just inside the border of the Unexplored-3.”

“Good, good. You will also be with some mercenaries hired by the commissioner of this task.”

“Mercenaries?!”

“Yes, the cargo seems to be precious. They are the personal guards of the person who has asked for this to happen, the commissioner.”

What could be inside?

“And that is about all we know. Again, I apologize. We forgot to ask the main HQ for more details” Arvon glanced at his watch, mostly for the sake of doing so since there was a large clock on the wall he was facing.

“Oh, it is time for you to go. You have thirty minutes to arrive at the Daphinde headquarters at Alve.”

“Thirty minutes?!” The drive itself would take an hour.

“Yes, you should probably be heading out now.”

The Daphinde never was known for its timeliness.