Through all the trials of adventurers as they go out on quests and build fame, there is a support network of guild receptionists, administrators, and quest-givers who work behind the scenes to ensure the smooth running of giving and receiving quests, rewards, and enforcing rules and regulations. Of all these people, arguably the most important role is that of Guild Master.
Twenty-nine-year-old Travis Vorn's onyx eyes snapped open in his rather humble abode in the Kingdom of Triparte's capital city, Evaidas. The white mattress and blanket shuffled a bit as he removed himself from the oak bed. He opened his closet, right next to his bed, and proceeded to dress for the day.
His outfit consisted of a white long-sleeved undershirt tucked neatly into black pants, both with gold trimmings. A black, buttoned surcoat with flowing sleeves highlighted by golden double-helix patterns near its trims was tied with a brown belt to the set. The Triparte Guilds' crest was stitched immaculately over both the left breast of the surcoat and the back, where it was big enough to cover its entirety.
He entered the bathroom attached to his room, which contained a small washbasin. Over the basin, engraved into the wall, was a blue circular gem crafted by an artificer, those commissioned to create exotic tools, that dispensed water out of an outlet beneath it once twisted to the left. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he applied some water to dampen his hair and brushed it with a rough wooden comb.
Any strands of bed hair were straightened out and brushed off to the right of his forehead, locks of hair to the sides of his face were brushed straight down. His hair was rather short, and many years of keeping the hair tidy have left its mark, so little was needed to be done.
He patted around his chin for any stubbles, any signs of a growing beard, and was satisfied to have found none. An immaculate and regal face, he found, was one that everyone always appreciated.
After some light cleaning of the wooden floorboards, Travis left his house and made sure to fasten the lock with his key. The abode was built within city walls, though in a mostly undeveloped area. That left a lot of trees off in the distance, not too far away, that he liked to look out at occasionally.
He walked on the dirt path towards the main marketplace, unfortunately not having the time to admire the scenery as he went. The guild would open when the sundial hit VI, which left little time for him to make sure everything would be in order by V. To that end, he had to wake at IV every morning and make his rounds.
The marketplace was usually bustling. As the capital of a vast kingdom, many merchants came and went, spots for the market were highly competitive during all seasons, even in the wintertime. Now, however, at this early stage, there was little hustle. Caravans were filing in, getting into position, and setting up stalls to show off their wares. There was no bartering, no shouting, no trades. Just a calm before the storm.