[A tattered piece of paper the size of a child's hand was nailed to the tree just north of the shrine of Selune. Words in common were scattered across the parchment in black ink, a partial list containing the prices of chicken in farms near Kohlingen. Placed upon what was written was a single line of infernal text, a lowly dialect common to transplanar trade, in perfectly composed prose. As the day progressed the words would dry and flake, completely illegible within a few days. It read:]

"Tabaxi you are safe here. Sleep in the brine so the stalker cannot draw your scent."

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