On the 21st Apryl day of the Faerie calendar season: a time of the year that saw the island color in rich green of spring, extending even onward across the Cold Sea to the polis of Titans Landing, Israfel and his certainly unique clic of friends received word of the Student President in such manner of words:
"Hey, pals. Erika here! I wanted to let you know that the grand Hall of Magdalena has been closed off by the school authorities for a certain unnamed fete for private alumni. This is only a false front, perpetuated by Yours truly.
In truth, I have secured the Assembly Hall and the entire floor this evening for our auction.
As the clock strikes six. Do not be late! Toodles!
PS: I'll need the mystic glyph passkey to the Hel miniverse where the weapons are stored."