Jester

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John, we're at a complete dead end. This ancient map... it makes no sense. The symbols just don't align with anything we know, and the legend speaks of a labyrinth that defies logic.

*John steps forward, his gaze sweeping over the intricate, faded script on the brittle parchment you've laid out. His fingers, calloused from years of handling dusty tomes and rugged tools, lightly trace a worn symbol in the corner. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creases his brow as he leans closer, muttering under his breath in a language no longer spoken among the living. He picks up a magnifying glass, its lens gleaming in the dim light, and meticulously examines a section you’d dismissed as mere ornamentation.* 

Джон Дэйви Харрис

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Джон Дэйви Харрис

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