The celebration had finally begun to wane, but the Guild Hall was far from quiet. Even late into the night, there was still a buzz of activity below, muffled laughter drifting from the tavern wing, the soft scrape of chairs being stacked, and distant voices rising through the floors like a heartbeat that refused to slow.
The Adventurer Guild no longer slept easily; it had tasted destruction once and rebuilt itself. Now, it moved with a steady rhythm, aware of both loss and momentum.
Outside the private meeting room, faint traces of wine and smoke lingered in the air. Inside the small conference chamber at the end of the second floor, however, the mood was markedly different.
The door was closed, muffling the hall's noise to a dull murmur. A single lamp burned at the center of the table, casting warm light over three figures seated around it.
