Speaking of great sensitivity and care, you gentlemen are the senior class of Seville Haven Academy for magical lads.

A magical British boarding school where nothing bad ever happens. It is your final day of school.

And you will be presenting your senior project to the Council of Wizards in order to graduate.

Tonight is the Feast of St. Crempit, and tradition dictates that the seniors of Seville Haven are in charge of the holy revrics for the ceremonial covering up for St. Crempit.

It would be a shame if something bad happened to those holy relics.

Oh well.

Your character is level three.

We will be jumping into it shortly.

Does anyone have anything to say before we get going or should we jump into it?

Let's jump into it.

The gray British sun rises in the sky and shines

down on wonderful Seville Haven Academy for Magical Lads. The most fantabulously amazulous school

of witches and wizard this side of the Thames. Seville Haven is a beautiful British boarding school accepting acolytes of the

arcane arts of which you whimsical whippersnappers are about to graduate from. Today is a big

morning for the senior class of Seville Haven Academy for magical boys. Classes, there's no

finer way for a proper lad to start the day than with a lush and gorge proper British breakfast.

All those feet and plums and beans or whatever.

We see the wondrous dining hall of the Seville Haven dorms filled with tons of annoying magical shit floating in the air.

Owls, birds, bats, rats, scrolls, weird books, talking bird cages and shit, all kinds of

fantasia shit like candles floating around in the air even though it's a fire hazard.

You can also see a war out paddle with a couple of teeth sticking out of it floating around

near the ceiling.

...