Day 11
I decided that the best course of action is to double down on being a tourist. The more I seem like I just want to take in the sights, the less the authorities will believe that I'm still committed to mapping the place. So after my morning eggs (too greasy. Must speak to the widow about that), I set off to visit the local historical society.
It's a small museum, very dusty, not flashy at all—a proper museum, in other words, not the sort of thing they're building nowadays that are just vulgar displays of wealth.
I was planning on just playing the part of the tourist, walking around, looking at this and that. But I got glimpses of something in this city's history that made my blood run cold. Nothing definite, of course. A rune here, an ancient symbol there, and I realized with a start that some of the shapes I was seeing reminded me of routes I have walked in the recent days.
Is this city built of ancient runic shapes? Is that why they don't want it mapped?
Dinner was a perfectly adequate chop out of a pub. Thank heavens they have some hallmarks of proper civilization here.