Somewhere just outside, a latecomer to the curriculum is carrying her cardboard box of belongings.  She looks like she's having a little trouble with the width of the corridors, largely owing to the voluminous poof of her ridiculously upscale gothic dress, laden with layers, ruffles and frills -- and the silvered greatsword is also not helping either.  Her hair is tied up in two ponytails, adorned with big red ribbons on each side.  

"Ow, ow... where's our room again?"

There's a soft echo of metal as the greatsword behind her remarks, in a faintly put upon posh accent: "Did you forget already, milady?  I believe your consignment was granted to you in the papers owed to you..."

A pause, as Shiki exclaims, "I was supposed to go meet someone?!  Aah, I already climbed all the way here!"

"The fine print, milady... it's always the fine print with you..."

"U-uweeh!" Shiki lets out a none too ceremonious squeak as she stands up straight and salutes -- and lets the box fall to the ground because she forgets she's holding a box.  All kinds of fancy little silvered trinkets and crystals fall out, as does bric-a-brac and little affectionate things from home.

And an adorable little corgi, who pokes out of the top of the box.

"N-nooo, Iffie, don't show yourself now!" Shiki whines, as she-- stammers, "H-hi, I'm Shiki!  Pets are allowed, right...?"

The talking sword lets out another one of those none-too-magnanimous sighs.  "Young mistress, did you even read the fine print...?"

"I can't read something that's too fine, Ildun!  I need to conserve my eyes for the world!" Shiki pouts.

"S-she's not a pooch, she's Iffie!" A pause, as Shiki scoops a crystalline lantern and what looks like a little jewel box back into her box.  "Permit?  I have to get a permit?  How do I get one?"

Sarah trudges unhappily up the stairs, but brightens when she sees the new face and says, "Oh hey there! I don't think we've met!"

Sarah blinks and says, "Wait right there Creig. Describe this...'Fee'" for me. She wraps fee in air quotes and waits for a response, steely glare locked on the young scammer.