The Guild Hall had shed its quiet hours. From the moment the doors swung open at sunrise until the last lantern flickered out at night, the Riverdale Branch buzzed with a life that even Boren hadn't fully envisioned when he first stepped into the empty hall days earlier.
The air was alive with voices, some loud and confident, others sharp and impatient, underpinned by a steady rhythm of diligent work.
The once-bare wooden floor now resonated with the sounds of boots moving in various directions, chairs scraping against the ground, parchment being rolled and unrolled, and coins softly clinking into metal trays.
At the far end of the hall, the Mission Board overflowed with requests, forcing Adventurers to squeeze in close just to read the latest postings.
