Chimper #1389
Asked them to chart a new trade route, that's all. They gave this big, charming smile, said the sky's light on the palace was too perfect to miss, and they'd be back in a moment. The imperial clerk adjusted their collar. "We haven't seen them since." That was how Gingorou left The Teikodian Empire. They never desired adventure; they simply couldn't stomach what the Empire called "progress." Their work as a cartographer had once been a source of joy, mapping gentle hills. But the requests grew colder: survey a route for an advancing legion, note locations of "heretic" villages. The final straw was a map of an ally's weaknesses. So they packed their bag, took their carved cane, and walked away. They are still warm and quick with an exclaimed story, but vanish the moment an official approaches. They aren't hiding from danger, just from clipboards.
