Assembled in the main assembly hall of the adventuring school each of you has only just today begun attending, a kindly-looking individual with grayed hair stands at the podium atop the stage.
“Hello, class of Gen020. I’d like to thank all of you for being here today, after our invitations to you to join the Excelsior Adventurer’s School. The reason for such, as I’m sure you’re all aware, is your incredible prowess in your respective fields.
“I’ll be honest, however. We have not one-hundred percent decided that you will stay with us. We will, as such, send you through some of our faculty-run dungeon dimensions in teams so as to gauge how well you do in real action. Each of these dungeons will be run by one of the four teachers standing around me: Mister Vamos, Mister King, Miz Trail, and Miz Full.
Each and every one of us wants you to get something spectacular out of this experience. Something we represent and believe is necessary to an adventurer’s life.”
The first teacher, Mister Vamos, thrusts his fist upwards with a huge grin. “Equality!” He is followed by Mister King’s deadpan chuckle and the ringing of “Honor.” Miz Trail calmly looks each of you in the eyes, one by one, lingering on none and glancing over just as few, then puts her fist in the air with a booming call of “Hope.” Miz Full casually glances over the group and smirks, then thrusts both fists upwards and exclaims “Inspiration!” Headmaster Beinars puts their fist in the air while keeping their other hand on the podium, calling out “Unity!”
The screams of the upperclassman watching from around the campus can be heard even here, and you know that you have a few moments before the excitement dies down to get to know your teammates and rivals before moving forward to get your class assignments. What do you say?
Razen stood in the crowd proudly wearing his armor and wielding his weapon still cheering long after the excitement had died down, underneath his helmet foaming at his mouth, shouting forth random babble, such as, "Bring forth your mightest challenge it is nought before the great power of chaos!" and who could forget, "My blade shall fell the might of a thousand armies before I shall die."
Though that having been said he was prone to such outbursts when excited, and he was not likely to stop any time soon without the application of a proper blugeoning or many tranquilizer darts.
Blasphemy Vegemite surveyed the crowd and his team, at one of which had seemed to be either high on bath salts or insane; at least he seemed to be heavily armed and armored, which would make his job of keeping everyone alive easier. The presentation was short at least. He flattened the jacket of his suit, the five inch side vents could prove troublesome at times, before attempting to converse with the raging tank on his team.
"Perhaps with all of us we can triple that number of armies before you die, ïa?"
Razen quickly turned around to see a rather.. warped creature speaking to him, something befitting of his madness, "Yes! Though stand back for the glory of these trails shall be earned for the Blood God!" he was not opposed to working with other to further his own dark-ish ambitions, however if it were to come to them slowing his glory there was going a problem.
Charles Emerson Winchester the 3rd, wearing his finest black suit and Bowler hat, stood completely motionless throughout the Orientation besides the slight hum and flickering glow in his eyes. He is going over the data he was accumulating during the Orientation on his fellow team-members and other key students/school staff of interest.
Once the excitement begins to die down. Charles walks over to greet his fellow team-members with one arm behind his back, the other clutching a black cane.
In a voice you would not imagine to come from a 15-16 year old. Charles begins to speak perfectly mimicking the voice you would imagine an Old British man in a Country club would sound like
"Tally ho!- (Good Afternoon Gentlemen. Quite the spectacle of Classmates I've been assigned with)"
Well, that went better than expected, Blasphemy thought, watching the hulk of flesh and metal as he turned and responded.
"Worry not, friend, I do not intend to get in your way. It is heartening to meet another follower of the Outer Gods here. I am called Blasphemy Vegemite, might I enquirer into your name?"
As he heard himself being addressed, he turned a pair of eyes and mouth to see the newcomer, a man of more metal than even the first. "It certainly is."
A young Cass Taylor stood near the edges of a wide group of people, TRYING to focus on the teachers at the head. What use was this all if she couldn't actually figure out what the **** she was doing?
Though, these guys weren't making it much easier to listen... She glared at the loud boys(right?) out of the corner of her eye, crossing her arms over her chest. If only they would shut up, or disappear...
But confront them? Never! She'd just hang where she was. Saying nothing. Make sure people don't talk to her.
Razen looked at Blasphemy, a fitting name seeing as how this twisted warped creature did not follow the Gods of Chaos, the Ruinous powers, "You shall call me Razen the faithful of Khorne! What say you of some outergods? False gods they are! Hollow, hidding behind the frailty of the mind to play their games! WEAK!" he blurted out in disdane showing his rather obvious devotion to his faith.
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