The next morning, you stagger into the Main Hall and find that your small cadre of fellow would-be historians are also much the worse for wear after their night of debauchery. You give a couple of them a nod of sympathy as you flop down next to Anias. She looks at you and grins weakly. "Ha! You look like I feel."

You say nothing, only motioning for her to take the volume down a couple of dozen levels.

She leans close and whispers to you. "Hey, so, it looks like the bigwigs are changing something up. I've heard some people murmuring about a new development with the thesis selection process."