The Hub: The Confluence
This is where the Golden Road meets a sunken amphitheater known as The Great Spoke.
It is the heart of trade and the location of the Bureau of Misplaced Souls, managed by the perpetually stressed, four-armed Barnaby.
Randolph actually stops sorting for a moment, leans his chin on one of his lower hands, and gives a sharp, dry nod.
Of course you came here, Echorin. Where else would a Mapmaker go when the ink starts to smudge? We’ve got the archives, we’ve got the tea, and we’ve got a strict 'No Stability Weave' policy. You’re always on the guest list.”