Blurb attempt for Van Horstmann

Altdorf, a little over a 100 years after the founding of the colleges of magic, and a young man arrives in this the most glorious of the Empire's cities.
Unlike the other visitors shuffling through the gate, he does not gaze in dumb-struck wonder at the capital's plethora of sights and sounds. His gaze is bent in but one direction, and his slow but determined steps lead him, with purpose, towards one of the streets of the Buchbinder's district.
It's here where there's supposed to be one of those Wizard colleges, you know?
Something something, Light? Or, was it white? It's hard to tell, as it's hidden from us normal folk. It is rumoured to look like a blinding pyramid of white. Hah, I grant that it's hard to credit that a place like that might exist here, cradled in the oppressive skein of these tangled streets.
They twist and turn, leading the unwary easily astray, turning them round and round, into dead-ends, teeming thoroughfares, an open sewer or two, and even occasionally leading them out right where they came in, without so much as a hair out of place.
 It's an oddity; Even at the best of times there seems to be something off with the geography of the place, turning new visitors easily astray, leaving them at the mercy of the district's residents. And you're in luck, young man, as I am that, though without a perfidious scheme to work towards, or at least; not today. Hehehe, you can stick close to me, my boy, and I'll show you a thing or two. 
Focus now on the young man, for he, like us, knows where he is going.
Into the narrowest of streets he goes, a fearless diver into dark and dizzying depths, and before long he arrives at a small square enclosed by high buildings. We watch as he, for now, the focus of our tale, solemnly makes his way towards the square's centre and stands there a while, staring into the well at his feet. The sellers at their stalls give him no glance, they have a living to earn. They have no time for flights of fancy.
So the man stands, unobserves, except by us, and then, ever so slowly, like a most noble plank, he lets himself fall forward, and vanishes. Hehehe, dumb-struck wonder indeed.
Just one of those mysteries of the Buchbinder's district, stranger. Come, onward. There's many more sights to see.

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Fuck it, I struggled mightily on writing up much of anything on Van Horstmann. and the above was what made it finally happen, the part that kickstarted me. So even if it's not representative, I'm keeping it.