That’s the price of secrecy

Horus pushed open the heavy wooden door of the Sea Breeze Tavern, the familiar scent of ale and roasting meat washing over him. The dimly lit interior was a stark contrast to the bright, bustling streets of Arlathan, but it felt like a haven. He scanned the room, spotting a few regulars hunched over their drinks, but no sign of Ruth yet. Horus adjusted his hat, tipping it slightly as he made his way through the small crowd by the bar. He walked up to the bartender, who gave him a weary look that spoke volumes to the Bartender not wanting any trouble from Horus, something that frequently happened when rum was involved.

I’ll have a bottle of my usual, good ser! He said with a chuckle, And a clean glass this time if you please. the Bartender shrugged and got out a cup and a bottle of rum. Then he made his way to his usual table near the back, a cozy corner where he’d be able to talk undisturbed with Ruth. Sliding into the worn leather booth, Horus sighed and let his eyes wander over the map spread out before him. It was an old, tattered thing, filled with the names of Free Marches towns and villages. His fingers traced the faded ink, trying to piece together the fragments of his past. The revelation that his parents' ship had sailed from the Free Marches had sent a shockwave through him, igniting a desperate need to uncover his roots.

@Ruth Yoesif