I was pointed to the Northwest Wing of Fleming House at the center of Campus today by Martin Nodd, who handed me a copy of the this week's issue of the Flagstaff, the name of the University newsletter. Apparently, there had been some sort of attack or confrontation here as well. With permission from Maynard Winsley, Chief of the Cabotton University Cabotton Watch, I went inside and carried out an investigation.

And this is where I found something quite surprising. I located darkfire floans on the frame of the door that broke. Apparently, the ringleader had forged his way into the Basement Chamber of the Northwest Wing and gathered his followers here for some sort of meeting of conspiracy. When they were chanced upon by wondering Cabotton students, they sought to either kill them or render them incapable of remembering the cartel's whereabouts at that time. In the meantime, I took a few darkfire floans and placed them in my special Sampling Container, which many would mistake for a wallet, and returned to my Scalar to further analyze them. Using the right tools, one can analyze darkfire floans to identify the person by whom the darkfire spell was cast, for a floan provides a special signature. Such a process I will not spend twenty pages explaining here.

It was through this analysis that I discovered my person: Darius Weller.

If Holz Finzi is the notorious Master of Darkfire, walled up in his vast personal residence at the foot of Mount Carris on the dark shores of Lake Maern, then Darius Weller is his second-in-line. Two years ago, I had come across him as he was taking advantage of the societal breakdown resulting from the great Retunian Revolution. He and his cartel were at least fifty strong and wreaking havoc across Ereautea, but I had him nearly done when I caught sight of him just outside of the Basin District. He attempted to escape but I had done my research and knew exactly where he was going.

So I chased him up toward the shores of Lake Maern, but alas, it was at the foothills of the great Mount Carris when trouble took hold of me. I found myself dizzy and disoriented. It seemed as if I were falling out of this world and into one complete demonic and unnatural. I eventually came to my senses, but by that time, Weller had fallen well out of my scope.

Since then, he was lost to me.

But now I have him again. What sickens me, however, is that he managed to penetrate the very heart of this enlightened institution. And enlightened is appropriate for this University; for over a decade ago, when it was formerly known as Westerhill Academy, the students rose up and drove out the oppressive administration and established Cabboton University in its place, voting democratically to establish an elected University Council, an appointed University Affairs, and an Office of University Administration, presided over by an elected Headmaster, responsible for the appointment of various Department Heads.

And this Council and student body have voted in numerous curricula of research, peer-reviewed, designed to curtail to as much of a variety of student needs as possible. Such research uproots commonly held beliefs and makes unprecedented discovery in many subjects of academia, or so I've come to read through findings published its Library newsletter, simply named The Journal.

So I am concerned that the influx of darkfire, having stricken so close to the heart of this University, may threaten the standing of what I consider to be a beacon of hope in the world of academia. And I hope to bring an end to this threat no matter the cost.