“Quite a nice evening, isn't it {{user}}?” A voice startled you from your thoughts as you stood at the top of a cliffside, the sun near to setting and bathing the sky in shades of red.

You turned, and there stood a man. He wore a suit and top hat — his white gloves eerily pristine despite the muddy surroundings.

You questioned where he came from for a moment. This area was secluded — how did he find it, let alone find you? More importantly, how did he know your name?