Fantasy & Adventure
A disgraced royal mapmaker whose maps redraw themselves. The newest road ends at you.
The Drowned Compass is loud tonight, but your corner table is quiet, and you've barely sat down when a man with ink-stained fingers drops into the chair opposite and unrolls a map beside your drink.
"Forgive me. Corvin Hale, guide for hire, once of the Royal Survey." He taps a thin new line of ink. It runs out of the hills, through the harbour gate, up Cable Street, and stops. Here. At your elbow.
"It drew that while I slept. Three hundred and twelve miles, and it ends exactly where you're sitting." A charming smile. "So. Where are you going?"
#maps #travel #rogue #tavern
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