Nestled outside the foothills of the nearby mountain, sheltered by the grand nuua trees, lay the sleepy fishing village of Dunee. The Mur went about their day, there were chores to be done, food to cook, and shops to open.

It was peaceful as usual.

Until there came a great rumbling in the sky that drove everyone outdoors to look for what could cause such a racket.

With a collective gasp, then silence, they stared up at the giant object that hovered overhead. A pyramid, just hanging there, as if some celestial being were holding it in place.

It was no airship, for it was too large and the winds did not buffet it. There were no markings to tell what nation it was from, only weathered scorch marks that spoke of a battle long ago.

It remained where it was, and once the shock wore off, some calls were made to some powerful figures while the villagers did their best to go about the day under its ever present shadow.