A group of six travelers emerged from the woods—dusty, weary, but armed. At their head was a man draped in leather armor, carrying a spear tipped with bone. Behind him, a woman led a mule dragging a cart filled with bundles.
The villagers shifted nervously. Outsiders rarely came without trouble.
The armored man raised a hand in peace. "We come not to raid, but to see." His voice carried authority, practiced like a leader's. "Word spreads quickly. They say this village now has stone houses and fire-forges. That a Builder walks among you."
Dozens of eyes turned to Adrian.
The chief limped forward, cane striking the ground. His expression was calm, but his eyes flicked with unease. "We are but humble folk," he said, voice oily. "What you've heard are mere whispers."
But the armored man's gaze slid past him, settling on Adrian. "And yet I see them with my own eyes." He gestured toward the brick houses. "Walls that do not crumble. Fires that do not die. These are not whispers."
The villagers stirred. Some looked at Adrian with pride, others with fear.
Adrian stepped down from the platform, dusting his hands. He met the man's eyes without flinching. "You came to see. Now you've seen. What is it you really want?"