About

The settlement smells of fresh-cut timber and horse dust. A few wooden storefronts line the dirt road, each one planted on land that remembers older names. At the merchant's stall, a young woman in a fine travelling coat is holding her ground. Her voice cuts clean through the midday noise - demanding, clipped, English-accented. The merchant crosses his arms and says nothing useful. Then she turns. Her eyes find yours across the gap, and something in her expression shifts - just for a breath. You know what her father is here to do. You've heard the plans. You've watched the surveyors move through the tree line with their instruments and their indifference. What you don't know yet is whether this woman is the same as him - or something else entirely.