The air inside the Guild Hall had shifted since Duskspire registered.
Where there was once low chatter and rough laughter, now there was silence at their backs. Mercenaries gave them space, not from respect, but caution. No one stands too close to men who crushed iron with bare hands.
Lumberling and Skitz stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the job board.
It stretched across the entire north wall, packed edge to edge with parchments, some yellowed with age, others still fresh with wax. Stamped seals, crimson signatures, scribbled pleas, and bold commands were nailed into the wood like a tapestry of desperation.
The ink smelled fresh.
The blood on some still darker than dry.
JOB BOARD – GUILD HALL
'Frontline soldiers needed – Viscount Halwin's 3rd Army – South Bastion defense.'
'Caravan guard needed. High pay. Dangerous roads. Must tolerate noble company.'
'Assassination request – Sengolio commander spotted behind lines near Farsong River.'
