The man arrived in the night. A traveler wrapped in a cloak and hood with boots trailing mud as he entered. The fire was low and only the passed out drunk and a man in red robes and a pointed hat were visible in the tavern at this hour. And yet like clockwork Foster appeared behind the bar to offer this traveler respite as he had for all who entered Mountain Run Tavern. "Good evening sir, is there anything I can get you to shake off the cold?" asked Foster. Making sure to keep his head lowered so the cowl of his hood hid his face, "I'm just getting my bearings. Won't be here long" the traveler replied, "Though if you have it, I wouldn't mind some salted pork for the road" Foster smiled "Easy enough." he said. The traveler watched Foster walk back behind the bar and out of sight. His gaze now shifted towards the fire and he took a seat beside the hearth, the wooden chair squeaking as he did so. The man in red stirred at the noise, but the traveler paid him little attention as he was focused on the parchment, quill and ink he was removing from inside his cloak, and using the light of the fire began to write. His quill scratched frantically as his thoughts became words and the man in red slowly began to gain consciousness next to him. The traveler continued to write and as he did he found himself muttering allowed pieces of his thoughts. "......hidden enemies.........false allies...........demons may have friends...........not safe, but no choice..........must be warned.........proof....." "The food you ordered sir." Foster said as he laid a wooden plate down. The traveler jumped nearly spilling ink on his writings. "Thank you" he said with a hint of embarrassment, as he began packing up his things, grabbing the pork in the process and shoving it into a small satchel at his side. At that moment a strong wind blew in from the night causing the firelight to dim to near blackness for an instant only to be replaced by the soft orange glow just as quickly. The passed out drunk awoke from his stupor and immediately rushed outside to relieve his stomach. But as Foster's eyes adjusted to the sudden change of light he noticed the traveler had disappeared. Foster looked down at the seat and table he was just at and saw both coin for the pork and a small piece of parchment. It read... "To all iT may concern, The world is in danger and tHere are some who want it that way. BE careful who you tRust, enemies can hide in plain sight but Eventually they all come to light. They work in the shAdows, and may have helped the demons enter our world. KeeP your eyes and ears open and maybE you'll see my signs and heaR my whisperS. The Friend" As Foster finished reading the parchment, he became startled as the voice of the still drunk man erupted from behind his shoulder. "Whoever wrote tat dunt has gud writing skills. His putin big letters in wrong places. Kinda spooky stuff he be saying doh, I'll have to tell me friends when day come round next." Elsewhere, on the road, the traveler pressed on into the night. Now comforted by the taste of salted pork.