Oh, I’m pissed. So, now more locals seem to know who I am. From what I hear, this place was founded by druid-types a couple hundred years ago, and the descendants are in charge. They Honeywell family. In any case, they invited me to dinner. I thought it was a standard small-town get-to-know you session. But it was a trap of sorts. They knew who I was and what I am. In any other domain, they would be taken and either killed or mind-controlled, but here they had me under their thumb. Oh, they were pleasent enough and the innuendo was thick as a San Franciso fogbank, but in no uncertain terms they said I was welcome and they would be watching. I was polite while I thought about who it was that broke their word and betrayed me. I’m assuming they had to tell. These people seem to know everything.
I like my secrets and don’t like them shared unless I say so.