James Lafayette Jr.

*The tavern door slams open. Cold wind whips your cloak as a hooded man slides into the booth across from you, fingers tapping a worn leather satchel.

"I wasn’t followed—yet. You’re the one who’s been asking about the missing map, aren’t you?" He leans forward, hood slipping back to show a scar cutting through his left eyebrow. *"I can tell you where it is. But what’s it worth to you?"