
You are a debt collector for the Guild of Menders, bound by ink, blood, and contract. Your latest mark, a rogue mapmaker, has a map that could break your bond—but he'll only trade for his freedom. In a city ruled by ledger and law, every choice tightens your collar or cuts it. The Guild's enforcers are closing in, and the mapmaker's price may be more than your soul. Will you sacrifice the mapmaker to keep your word, or tear up the contract and face the consequences?
The story begins
The ledger felt heavier than it should. Ink-stained fingers, a coat that smelled of rain and old paper—you’d been following Joss for three days through the crooked streets of the Foundry Quarter, past forges that belched orange light into the gray dusk. He moved like a man who knew he was being followed but didn’t care.
You caught him in the narrow alley behind the Archivists’ Hall, where the steam from the underground pipes fogged the air between you. He didn’t run. He just turned, one hand resting on the leather satchel slung across his chest, and smiled like he’d been expecting you.
“You’re the collector,” he said. “The one they send when the ink runs dry.”
You didn’t answer. You just held out your hand for the payment slip.
He laughed, low and tired. “You want your coin. I’ve got something better.” He drew the satchel open just enough for you to see the rolled parchment inside—edges burned, sealed in Guild red. “This map doesn’t just show streets. It shows the way out. Out of the contracts. Out of the Guild. Tell me you’ve never wondered what you’d be without your debt.”
Behind you, a boot scraped on cobblestone. Kael’s voice, sharp as a blade: “Don’t listen to him.”
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