In the darkest part of the night at a certain resident's home on Peacock Passage one might here the movement of shuffling of furniture and the whirling of magic before the zap of teleportation. Then suddenly it all goes silent and should anyone knock, they find no answer.

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Imyrr - "I need your heartbeat to haunt me, your cold lips to breathe, a promise; that tomorrow I'll wake up somewhere new."

A man observes the home from the shadows. In the night, the streets and quiet and stilled, save for a few travelers, and the occasional adventurer surfacing or entering the sewers. He lingers in an alleyway avoiding the lights of candles and fires in nearby homes. His cold gaze is locked onto the door. In his hand, he holds a black pawn gamepiece, running his fingers over the smoothed curves.

"So it begins."

If the apparent dimensional lock that covers all of Cordor has been broken, it would be evident that patrols in the district are increased by a certain red haired guard, carrying a torch, standing vigilantly at guard through the night.

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Aoth Nathandem - Wizard of house Tholaunt and chosen of Ma'at.