<strong>New York</strong><br/><br/>Alex laughs.<br/><br/>"Glad ta see someone's askin' smart questions!  If it were me, I'd learn from my own mistakes and give it no further thought.  But you ain't like me."  He gestures to the envelope.  "What you need's in there.  As for who sent it...you'd probl'y recognize the name, but everyone gets it wrong.  Kind of like succubae."<br/><br/>The envelope contains a crisp sheet of parchment with the same neat handwriting as the envelope.  It also has a plane ticket.<br/><br/><em><strong>The First and Last Man humbly requests the presence of the Lord Tinker at a conference of new powers to discuss the defense of the realm of Mortal Earth.  Refreshments will be provided.  The Ancient Compact and Truce is in effect for all attendees.<br/><br/>If able, we will meet at Four Points in one month's time.</strong></em><br/><br/>It's signed with some hieroglyphics.<br/><br/>"As for yer park, yeah. There's something brewin' up in there.  Sign of the times, I reckon.  Got yerself a...whaddyacallit.  A Hellmouth.  Just need ta find yerself a Slayer to go with it."<br/><br/><br/><strong>Las Vegas</strong><br/><br/>"Sure thing.  See ya in about a month, then."<br/><br/>He climbs into the truck, starts the engine--it purrs like a kitten, sounding nowhere near what one would expect from a truck that old and battered.  A moment later, he rolls it back out between standing stones and across the hardpan desert floor.<br/><br/>And he's gone.  One moment the truck is there, the next...interesting.<br/><br/>The envelope contains a crisp sheet of handwritten parchment, folded around a plane ticket.  The handwriting is the same neat copperplate as your name on the envelope.<br/><br/><strong>Ms. Keysworth,<br/><br/>At the risk of offending your sense of propriety, allow me to introduce myself by epithet.  I am the First and Last Man, a guardian of sorts.  You have no doubt realized that recent events are not the end of Mortal Earth's trials, and that there is worse to come.  I am gathering a group of like-minded souls, all of whom are now more than they once were, in hopes of arranging a way to protect and defend our world against what is yet to be.<br/><br/>It is with mingled hope and regret that I humbly invite you to the conference I am arranging.  It will take place at the Four Points monument in New Mexico in roughly a month's time.  It is my fervent hope that you will be able to join us.<br/><br/>Kindest regards,</strong><br/><br/>The signature is a bunch of Egyptian-looking hieroglyphs in a cartouche.  Weird.<br/><br/><br/><strong>Los Angeles</strong><br/><br/>He blushes a little, his formality slipping away.<br/><br/>"Yeah, well...politics is the art of gettin' decisions made without havin' ta fight a civil war over gettin' bridges built.  Ain't always a clean game, but compromise ain't always as neat and tidy as a simple, straightforward wrong answer.  Reckon I'll see ya later, then?"<br/><br/>Now his eyes linger, and you can easily pick up the hint of appreciation in them before he departs with swift yet unhurried grace.<br/><br/>The scroll is simple:<br/><br/><strong>Lady Sophronia,<br/><br/>Knowing your time is valuable, I will be brief.  As you have no doubt guessed, recent events are not finished.  The Mortal Earth is in dire peril and unless steps are taken to protect it, there is worse to come.  I am forming a group of empowered individuals in hopes of fending off the worst.  If you are able to join us, there will be a conclave at Four Points (New Mexico) in one month's time.  I hope to see you there, where I will be able to explain matters more fully to all.<br/><br/>In the meantime, I remain your most obedient servant,<br/><br/>Nyaruthotep</strong><br/><br/>Well. That's certainly weird...<br/><br/><br/><strong>Silverville</strong><br/><br/>"Alex," he says, relaxing a little.  "Reckon it won't hurt none if I take a bit of downtime.  I ain't like you guys.  Not nearly as tough, nowhere near as powered up.  That was the arrangement.  But I also ain't the one should be explainin' the lore to ya, on account of I don't know most of it.  I'm willin' to give ya what I know, though.  Fair's fair and all that."<br/><br/>He allows you to guide him toward the fire, showing no more concern over the wolves than he would over a handful of friendly dogs.  Again, his eyes turn to the trees once more, not lingering on your form.  Perhaps he means this as a form of courtesy, taking pains to avoid even seeming to challenge you on your own turf.<br/><br/>"Four Corners is a place.  It's where Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah meet.  Only place ya c'n stand in four states all at once."  He grins.  "<em>Also</em>smack dab on top of a ley line, but that's just an accident, or the sorta trap set in Compton, Missouri'd have been moved a bit.  Anyway.  So, yeah."  He clears his throat.  "The First and Last Man.  He who is called No Refuge At The Gateway.  The Peacebringer.  I got a lotta epithets but no name.  He's sorta my boss.  He's...old.  An' he's not here right now.  Somethin' about things goin' wrong a couple weeks ago.  Didja see that thing in Tokyo?  All that purple crystal..."<br/><br/>He shudders.<br/><br/>"There's worse things lurkin' along the secret and hidden ways of the world, an' I gather the wards are shaken.  But better ta let him do the tellin' for that part.  I'm just a guy."