The Guild Hall buzzed with a steady hum, the kind that signaled a place operating at full capacity. It wasn't the chaotic noise of a tavern; instead, it was the sound of people lining up, papers rustling, boots shifting on the floor, coins clinking together, and voices rising and falling in quick bursts as missions were accepted, completed, debated, and paid for.
The large counter on the left had been divided into sections as Boren intended: one for registration, another for accepting missions, one for turning in completed tasks, yet another for payments and rewards, and finally a space dedicated to handling complaints before they escalated into conflicts.
Five receptionists in matching Guild uniforms moved with an ease that suggested years of experience despite it only being days since they started.
