"Artorius," sighed a voice, even as he pivoted in place, his hand held low, his heart thudding at the whisper of his name. The room was empty, however, and after a moment of unease he shook off the feeling. Perhaps it was his imagination; after all, no magic could get someone into this room without his knowledge, and he felt nothing, no life within a hundred paces. He shook himself, shrugging aside the uncomfortable thoughts as he made his way to the door, pausing only briefly to pull the heavy, Shadowed Leather-reinforced cloak from its place on a hook. Swirling it onto his shoulders, he took a moment to brush his fingers across the silver toggle that held it closed. Then he stepped out of the room, the door slamming and locking behind him...