It was nearly dusk by the time they returned to Black Stone Town.
The entrance to the town, however, was much livelier than usual. From a distance, they could see many unfamiliar faces.
A crowd of people in ragged, weathered clothes had gathered there—men, women, young, and old. Most carried simple bundles on their backs, their eyes filled with the fatigue of a long journey and anxiety about their unfamiliar surroundings. Yet, they did their best to stand tall, as if to prove they still had the strength to work, their expressions tinged with a desperate hope for a stable life.
They were refugees, displaced by nearby wars or famines. Having heard that Black Stone Town was recruiting people and that its Lord was relatively benevolent, they had brought their families to try their luck.
A few guards were maintaining order, while a Civil Servant followed the plan Raylo had established for receiving refugees, handling simple registrations and calming them.
