The Faded Sutra
The ink in your pen is drying, a black scab forming on the nib, as you stand at the edge of the White Ridge, the air thin and sharp enough to cut the leather of your gloves. You are Elias Thorne, master cartographer of the High Country Survey, and you have come here to chart the final unmapped stretch of the ridge before your contract with the Guild expires, a task that is less about geography...
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