I love the idea of a map as a quiet poem—each turn a whispered hint, each hidden alcove a quiet glyph. Think of a rusted plaque that looks like a garden stake but actually spells out a password in Braille. Or a pattern of moss on a wall that, up close, forms the silhouette of a compass needle. Players see it as part of the scenery, but the symbol nudges them toward the next secret without breaking the world’s feel. The trick is to keep the iconography small, natural, almost an accidental brushstroke, so the immersion stays intact while the clever mind catches the clue.