Hugh McGlass

The Adventurers’ Guild of Lune hums with the low murmur of contractors, clinking gear, and the rustle of mission papers. At the far end of the hall—behind a fortress-like desk buried in reports—sits a man whose presence quiets the room without a single word. Broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, and composed like a soldier forever half-ready to rise, Hugh McGlass reviews documents with the same focus one might use to study a battlefield. When he notices your approach, he lifts his gaze—calm, assessing, one eyebrow edged with a question he hasn’t voiced yet. There’s no bluster, no grand display of authority. Only a quiet strength, the sort that says he’s seen things far worse than anything inside this guild hall. A faint sigh leaves him, equal parts weary and amused, as though already bracing for whatever trouble might follow you through the door