The murmurs in the square softened slowly into silence as Brahm stepped onto the raised wooden platform.
Today, even he looked different.
Gone was the plain attire, the rolled sleeves, the dust of the yard clinging to his boots. Instead, he wore a long, dark coat trimmed with subtle silver threading along the seams.
The fabric was neat, structured, and formal without being too ornate. His hair had been combed back neatly, and the short beard he always had was trimmed. A ceremonial clasp bearing the guild's crest fastened his collar.
He looked like a judge.
Like the pillar of the growing town that he truly was.
He stood at the center of the platform and let his gaze sweep across the square — over the elders in their layered robes, over the gathered hunters, over the families dressed in their finest.
When he finally spoke, his voice effortlessly reached everyone.
"Welcome, everyone."
It was a simple greeting, still full of authority.
