Silax, ever the pragmatist, bypassed the queue and headed straight for the official overseeing the process.
The official, a portly man with a harried expression, looked up with a frown.
"Can I help you?" He barked.
His voice was laced with a weariness born of dealing with a day's worth of anxious applicants.
"Silax." He replied, his voice firm and commanding.
"I'm here for a hunting license."
He stretched his hands towards the official and presented a badge.
The official raised an eyebrow, a flicker of recognition replacing his annoyance.
"Ah, Mr. Silax. Of course, you can skip the line. Hunting licenses… excellent choice." The official blustered, his demeanor shifting.
Silax inclined his head curtly, not in the mood for small talk.