Since the land still needed to be cleared during the day, the assembly was scheduled for early morning.
The sun had not yet fully risen, and the gray-blue dawn light cast long shadows.
The plaza was divided by an invisible line.
On the east side were the "old townsfolk" of Newly Town. Though their clothes were patched, they were clean. Spirited, they gathered in twos and threes, murmuring amongst themselves as their gazes occasionally shifted to the high platform with curiosity and anticipation.
On the west side were over eleven hundred newly arrived serfs. They were huddled together like rain-soaked livestock, the air thick with the sour, rancid smell emanating from their bodies.
Every head was bowed, their eyes vacant. Though they outnumbered the others ten to one, they were utterly devoid of spirit.
Velin ascended the high platform, and the entire plaza fell silent.
He wore a well-tailored black coat, his gaze resting on the numb crowd to the west.
