Magus Nilrem walked the city at an unhurried pace, a worn journal tucked beneath one arm and a quill never far from his fingers.
To onlookers, he appeared every bit the scholarly traveler, pausing to jot down notes about street layouts, local customs, and snippets of overheard conversations.
From time to time, he stopped to speak with shopkeepers, guards, and passersby, asking harmless questions about history, trade, or daily life.
When something caught his interest, he would step aside and sketch it quickly, like the curve of a bridge, the sigil above a guild hall, and the way sunlight fell between narrow streets.
Anyone watching would assume he was gathering material for a book, an eccentric Magus indulging his academic habits.
But beneath the harmless routine lay a different purpose…
Every glance lingered a little too long. Every conversation was subtly steered. Every sketch doubled as a mnemonic anchor.
