1. New Student Orientation

Marlena approaches Lieutenant Veyna. She can't help but scan the woman's face, her gaze lingering on the scars rather obviously, but she manages to look her in the eye. "Lieutenant? I don't believe I'm cut out for the Dragon Guard, but I do have a question. What's the story behind the Dragon Guard's formation? I've read a bit about it, but I figure you would know a lot more."

Zix mostly observed without interfering, moving along with everyone.

Hmm, those scars are suspiciously neat, especially the way they combine with the rest of the face. No way that isn't a deliberate fashion statement or tradition or something. A bit uneven for a traditional symbolic pattern though. Wonder what they mean.

Anyway, wonder what other campus factions are there around.

It continued observing, assessing people's demeanours and natures, watching for topics that seem to hide more meaningful subtext than let on, and the like.

Dorian usually follows his whims and those are leading straight to Zeyna. His voice is only slightly tinged with seductive swagger. "You make it sound so noble, and so rewarding. You've definitely given me a lot to think about."

Marlena eagerly listens to the lieutenant, committing her words to memory. Her curiosity is mostly sated, but she wonders about the founding dragons. She makes a mental note to look into them more, but for now, she respectfully dips her head. "What you do is commendable, lieutenant, but I still don't think it's a good fit for me," she says. Suddenly, she gasps excitedly. "However, I could help in other ways! One of the reasons I came here is to study magitech and further my understanding of it, so I could perhaps design something to make your job easier. I do appreciate a challenge. Oh! How about fully autonomous drones to cover any blind spots your patrols may have?"

Kiraen is not really paying Lieutenant Veyna Kallisar any attention. One of the human guards is carrying a dagger that looks of drow design. She only saw a glimpse of it, but she is pretty sure that its a signature dagger of Lolth Chosen. This human male is most certainly not one of the chosen, so its properly just a spoil of war - from a female only cult to the spider goddess.

Part of her want to reclaim the dagger, part of her is revolted by its very existence, and yet another couldn't care less.

After some contemplation, Zix just shrugged, concluding that the university does realise that the Critic is ultimately Zix's equal or better, at least out in the dreamscapes. This was probably logical given the way some exchanges went in the letters before. It was also less concerning than the fact that the university seemed to have measures that negated the benefits of a malleable visage.

The group followed as Dean Mirthwhistle swept ahead, gesturing dramatically at every location they passed.

Here are some highlights.

Verdant Hollow Gardens:
As they entered the campus park, the dean paused, spreading his arms wide. "The gardens! A place of reflection, meditation, and—if you're clever enough—illusion magic practice. Just don’t try any pranks with the glow-lilies; they’re quite sensitive and liable to explode into glitter."

Misthaven Stadium:
At the stadium, Dean Mirthwhistle leaned in conspiratorially. "This is where the Mage Tower matches are held. A little advice: if you attend a game, never sit directly behind a fire-evoker. Trust me, singed eyebrows are not a good look."

Dormitory's dining halls:
In the dining hall, he made a grand show of conjuring an illusory plate piled high with pastries. "And this is where the magic really happens—breakfast. Be warned, though: the treacle tarts occasionally try to bite back. Builds character, I think."

---

As the tour concludes, the floating lanterns guide the groups back to the Biblioplex. The hall is now dimly lit, exuding a cozy warmth. Tables have been arranged with snacks and refreshments—hot cider, enchanted pastries that sparkle faintly, and tea that changes color as it steeps.

Seeing the groups arriving, Professor Starforge, the university's head of student orientation, steps forward. A friendly dwarven woman with braided silver hair and a laugh that seems to resonate like a bell, she claps her hands together and says:

"All right, young mages, in one hour we’ll cover the process of course selection, as well as how to balance your studies with the vibrant life our campus offers."

Beside her, Dean Mirthwhistle took a final glance at his students, a knowing twinkle in his eye. With a flourish, he adjusted his clothes and spread his hands dramatically.

"Well, my dear students, that concludes our little adventure. Now, go, mingle, eat, drink, explore, and—above all— after you receive your schedules, keep an eye on them. Being late to your first class is a dreadful way to start, not that I’d know anything about that, of course."

With that, Dean Mirthwhistle gave the lantern a gentle pat—though how exactly was unclear—and strode off, leaving the five students to their own.

"Yes, ma'am!" Marlena can hardly contain her excitement. For the rest of the tour, she's mostly stuck in her own head, brainstorming about her design.

---

It's only the smell of the food and drinks in the Biblioplex that pull her out of this state. After all, a thinking mind needs fuel. "What is that?" She lifts a tankard of cider to her lips and takes a cautious sip. Liking what she tastes, she proceeds to down several hearty gulps before finally lowering the tankard.

She bids Mirthwhistle farewell as she bites into an enchanted pastry. She finds that the filling is where most of the magic is concentrated. The magic pops and fizzes slightly on her tongue, and when she swallows, she's hit with a burst of energy. She looks to the others. "You have to try these! They're amazing," she insists to the others. "Excuse me! Who made these wonderful, wonderful works of confectionary art?" She asks Professor Starforge.

Yes, it's a decent cider. Kiraen is not as impressed but drinks it nonetheless.
I'm more interested in our schedules. What are our mandatory classes and what is the possible electives? Have you given that any thoughts?

"I'm assuming things would start with purely theoretical knowledge, and from that go to practice once we're deemed ready. At least that's what I heard scholarly learning is like in places like these."

Dorian sits at the table with the others, and fills his plate with only the finest fare, passing over more unfamiliar common items. "Have we been grouped together do you think? Shall we form a pact in case another coalition attempts to feed us to the sewer rats? There's nothing more to generate politicking than putting people together with relatively equal standing. "

Kiraen sighs. I was naive to think I had escaped politics.
She offers Dorian her hand. Let us stick together and promise to protect each other from threats here at Misthaven University. Being guards, monster or fellow students.
She looks to the others to see if they want to join in this pact
And protect us from ourselves if our ambition or stubbornness is driving us over a cliff
This addendum could be crucial for Kiraen

Zix looks thoughtful, putting the food down for the time being. "I think treating pacts so lightly diminishes their meaning. I am not opposed to amiable cooperation between us, in fact I am for it, but I think we know each other for so little time, that making major promises is inappropriate. The fact that I got involved in a similarly hasty agreement with one of you is . . . something that is yet to be evaluated for wisdom, or at least for fruitfulness."

Despite the critical words, Zix doesn't look hostile, in fact it looks a bit sad and apologetic.

Dorian chuckles and slaps his hand into the clasp with Kiraen, and then holds it there for Greta and others to join. "A promise to watch each other's backs and support each other, at least until after we choose otherwise and say we're out."