Sitting at my desk, contemplating the changes in the neighborhood and the current news, I have been uneasy. My task at large has not changed, but there has been little news of the one who brought this area to our attention. True, my home here is warded against him, but even in the realms outside, there has not been much said, save the discussion of what happened at Artificial Isle. There are those who say he has left this plane, and murmur of the son created from his bones, but the void one would expect is not there.
The call of dire catastrophe struck me as the thunderbolt, catapulting me to my armoring cabinet. If she is in enough trouble to call, I will need back-up.