You look up from your mug of watered mead, and throw your gaze about the tavern. It appears as ever... the old man half-awake in the corner, the young maids crooning out a drunken ballad, to the children playing with sticks outside the door. Before you resign your search, you notice something rather out of place. A man in black, tall and lean; he rests like a shadow in the corner. He mulls over a glass of grandy, and appears troubled. And then you realize... no... could he truly be?-