Sam looked up at an unfamiliar sound and flicker of light from the entrance to the Inn. Between the glass doors, a man, bleeding, roughly the size of Pike, stood clutching a book and crying. Was anyone else around?

No.

Sam sighed and closed his book, picked it up, and headed over to the doors. He couldn't make himself small, so he had to hope not having any obvious weapons would help when he waved to the man before pulling open the door. "Hey."