The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dilapidated stone statues of lions are scattered around a vast, overgrown courtyard, covered in ivy and moss. The air's heavy with the smell of damp earth and decaying leaves. A group of beavers is quietly maintaining a perfectly functioning, miniature replica of a medieval trebuchet, somehow loading and firing tiny clay projectiles at a nearby stack of old wooden crates. The sun's high overhead, casting a warm glow over the entire scene, with just a few wispy clouds drifting lazily by.