The floor, some exotic species of expensive dark wood, had been scarred by the heavy furniture forcefully dragged over it. Twisted wreckage was all that remained of the room - except, disconcertingly, for a single sad ruby brocade armchair that had tipped over but otherwise escaped unscathed.

Books lay scattered and opened in various piles and disarray. In the middle was a well, and the breathing of someone – something, could be heard.

"You're here." A deep, smooth and distorted voice filled the room.