The applicants had been sitting in the guild hall for most of an hour before Hajin came through the doors, by which point the talk had run dry.
Gorren held up the wall beside the entrance in heavy plate with his arms folded, glaring at the ceiling until another applicant nudged his shoulder.
"That is him," the man whispered, tilting his head toward the front doors.
Gorren rolled his eyes toward the entrance, where a silver-haired young man walked in beside a white-haired beastkin.
Nothing about the pair moved him an inch.
"That is the royal recommendation kid?" he muttered, looking him up and down, "he looks like he rolled out of bed on the way here."
"Do not let the look fool you," the woman warned, keeping her voice under the noise of the hall.
She wore dark leather over a lean frame, one hand resting on the short blade at her hip.
Her name was Sable, and unlike most of the people on those benches, she had done her research before turning up.
