Varrus was enjoying himself at the party. The fighting, the drinking, the dancing, it was all so jolly. He drained his tankard and left the table, he'd drunk more than his body could handle and so he needed to find somewhere private. As he left the hall and walked along, he heard the sounds of a fight in the distance, and it sounded savage, "Now this sounds brutal, this I wanna see." So he rushed towards the sounds of fighting, but as soon as the sounds started they were over, yet he continued onwards in the sort of direction it came from. He rounded a corner and saw blood, lots of it. On the floor, on the walls, and even on the ceiling. He saw no bodies, but he did see foot prints leading off into one area, along with some drag marks, and scorch marks of a fireball. 

He had no idea what had happened here, no idea who was involved, only that whatever happened was quick and bloody work. He decided upon the only course of action that seemed sane at the time. Sound the alarm. He ran back towards the hall at a full sprint, not even caring anymore that he might piss himself, only that the others need to be warned. As he was running he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Alarm! To Arms! To Arms!" Hopefully someone would hear him and spread the word.