“Lady Fiorella paced the floor of her new office, dictating a letter as Marcello diligently wrote her words.
“..And should these terms not be met then the considerable resources at my disposal shall be…”
She did not get to finish as Benjou, sat at his own hectic bench in the corner gasped and reeled back, falling off of his chair and crashing to the floor. He gathered himself as Lady Fiorella looked at him, eyebrow raised and Marcello muttered profanities at his now ink covered parchment.
“Darkfire Keep is being attacked,” he stammered “I am receiving a long distance communication from one of the researchers there. Powerful magic, constructs of some sort, the words are garbled”
Benjou fell silent for a minute or two, closing his eyes and pressing his hands to his temples. Marcello continued cursing, trying to soak up the ink before it spread further over his desk. Lady Fiorella tapped her foot, impatient but unable to do anything to hurry Benjou. After a short while he slowly returned his chair upright and sat down.
“The researchers at Darkfire Keep are dead. They were attacked by a powerful magical force utilising magical constructs and puppetted people.”
Fiorella scowled, “Marcello, be a dear and summon some messengers. Looks like we need some people to go to Darkfire Keep.”
Marcello, left to fetch the messengers as Benjou placed his hands on his head again.
“I have one more piece of information, a name. Quiama”