The cheering died down slowly, the sound fading into the morning air.
The knights stood in their ranks, their faces with pride, their eyes still bright.
They had seen what they had built, and it had filled them with a sense of accomplishment that they hadn't felt in years.
Darion raised his hand for silence. The murmuring stopped almost immediately, the knights' attention snapping back to him.
"I know we've achieved a lot," he said, his voice carrying across the field. "The farmlands are restored. The livestock is here. The pens are built. We have food, we have animals, we have hope. But there's still more work to do."
He paused, letting his words sink in.
"I want to talk about the knight barracks," Darion continued. "Right now, its condition isn't favorable. It's drafty, cramped, the roof leaking in places, the walls cracked. It's not a place that honors the men who live there."
The knights exchanged glances. They knew the barracks were in bad shape.
