1. New Student Orientation

"Yes, Professor Starforge. I believe you were going to delve into the process of course selection."

Marlena can't help but scrutinize her seat thoroughly. Deeming it suitably inanimate, she sits down and puts away the weapon she made, pulling out a leather-bound journal in its place. She's ready to take notes, but she notices the gnome has not returned. Perhaps he doesn't know it's safe now?

She figures he is probably nearby, so she gets up and leaves the lecture hall to look for the gnome. She doesn't intend to spend too long searching, but she feels it'd be a shame if he missed important information.

As Marlena rises from her seat and leaves to look for the gnome, her eyes flicker to the remains of the mimic. A slick, black residue clings to the surface—oily and unnatural. Her brow furrows. Mimics don’t usually leave traces like this. She pushes the thought aside for now. There’s still someone who needs help.

Slipping out of the lecture hall, Marlena moves through the quiet corridors of the Biblioplex. The usual hum of studying students and rustling pages feels muted in contrast to the chaos from earlier. She scans the shelves, her instincts guiding her toward a secluded corner.

There, wedged between towering bookshelves, she spots a small figure. The gnome is huddled against the wood, his red pointy hat slightly askew, his denim jacket pulled tight around him as if it could shield him from the memory of the attack. His wide eyes dart up as he notices her approach.

Marlena carefully walks up to the gnome. It is not her strong suit, but she tries to appear comforting. "Uh, hey there. The mimic's dead if you want to come back to the lecture hall. Professor Starforge is just about to start going over about course selection. If we hurry back, I doubt we'll miss anything too important." She smiles, holding out her hand out for him to take if he wishes. "Oh, sorry, where are my manners? I'm Marlena," she adds quickly.

Dorian sits without checking to see his seat is real. It's an appearance thing and worth the risk of a bit o' bite to the bottom.

Just as he sits and crosses his arms, determined not to take any notes as per his bag boy image in development, Marlena spots a hidden gnome. Marlena speaks to him gently, which prompts:

"Watch that one. Just because he's small doesn't mean guess not the villain in this grotesquerie."

The gnome hesitates. His fingers still twist at the frayed edges of his sleeve, his eyes darting around as if expecting another attack. Finally, he exhales a shaky breath and mutters,

"Name’s Rylek. Rylek Timbers." He glances at Marlena, then quickly looks away, his voice still hushed. "I, uh… I didn’t mean to cause trouble." He adjusts his pointy hat, still fidgeting as he speaks. "I just—y'know, sat down like normal, and next thing I know, it's trying to eat me." He swallows. "I swear, I didn’t do anything to it."

---

Meanwhile, Kiraen poked the chair. Other than the weird, dark, oily residue, there's nothing there. Just a normal chair, albeit now worn from the fight.

Soon, Professor Starforge began. Behind her, a magical display appeared, projecting glowing symbols of the eight magical schools, accompanied by lists of mandatory first-year courses.

First semester - Mandatory classes

"As first-year students, you’ll all begin with a well-rounded curriculum to introduce you to the fundamentals of magic. By your second year, you’ll select a specialization within one of the colleges. Think of this year as a chance to explore—to discover what truly resonates with you."

The students murmured amongst themselves, excitement mingled with a touch of nervousness. The professor continued, pacing slowly across the stage.

"Now, when choosing your electives, remember: balance is key. Take a course that challenges you, and pair it with one that nurtures your natural strengths. For instance, if you’re drawn to Illusio, you might also benefit from a grounding course in Excidium."

She gestured toward a list of upcoming advising sessions displayed on the magical screen. They would choose their electives there.

Zix walked to the free chair and examined it before setting. It sat down and began making notes, in direct opposition to Dorian's flair. Zix occasionally glanced at the noble with a touch of light-hearted envy. It's not like it didn't want to take on a scandalous and attention-grabbing persona too. But given how bad 'Zix the Leader' went minutes ago, and how 'Princess Lyandra' fell flat by the end of the gambit, it decided to metaphorically stay a grey mouse for a while. Such a persona was not without merits, and would allow better contrasts against other, more flamboyant personas.

Zix writes down a preliminary schedule, but leaves a couple of lines as a reserve, still unsure how things will go.

"What? None of this is your fault, Rylek. Some idiot had already transmuted your chair into a mimic. I doubt they were targeting you specifically though; they just wanted to stir up some trouble. Don't worry, the arsehole behind it will be caught before long. Now, why don't we return to the lecture hall? I've got your back if any more mimics show up. Okay?" Marlena smiles.

When Marlena entered the lecture hall with Rylek following her, Professor Starforge was gesturing toward a list of upcoming advising sessions displayed on the magical screen. She continues:

"After this session, you’ll meet with your assigned academic advisors to craft your schedules. Don’t hesitate to ask them questions—they are here to guide you. And remember, even if you’re uncertain now, that’s perfectly fine. Magic, much like life, is a journey of discovery. But before you leave, I wanna call my esteemed colleague, Professor Cyril Everyquil, Dean of Amplico, for a short lecture on University Policies and Codes of Conduct."

---

Professor Cyril Everyquil, the esteemed Dean of Amplico at Misthaven University, is a middle-aged elven scholar with an air of quiet authority, his silver-threaded dark robes impeccably tailored. His piercing, blue eyes seem to read students' intentions before they even speak. Though his demeanor is stern, there is wisdom in his measured tone, and on rare occasions, a glimpse of dry wit.



"Misthaven University is a place of wonder, but also one of rules. For magic, as you will learn, thrives within the bounds of discipline and respect."

He waved a hand, and glowing runes appeared in the air, listing key university policies.

"You are all here because you have potential. However, that potential must be tempered with responsibility. Let me make it very clear: misuse of magic, whether for harm or mischief, will not be tolerated. Our Code of Magical Ethics exists to protect not only you but everyone in this community."

His voice softened slightly as she continued.

"This university is also a place of great diversity. You will encounter individuals from countless realms and walks of life. Treat your peers, your professors, and the staff with respect. Misthaven thrives on collaboration and understanding, and it is your duty to uphold those principles."

The floating runes shifted, now displaying examples of prohibited behaviors, including unsanctioned spellcasting, the creation of dangerous magical items, and violations of dormitory rules.

"To that end, familiarize yourselves with the student handbook, which you will find in your dormitory rooms. Ignorance is no excuse for infractions."

As the session drew to a close, he offered a rare smile, small but genuine.

"While rules may seem restrictive, they are the framework that allows us to build something extraordinary together. Embrace them, and you will find your time here to be as fulfilling as it is magical. Welcome to Misthaven, and may your journey be one of growth and discovery."

As the students poured out of the hall, they were handed enchanted parchment scrolls with the available schedule. Groups began forming naturally, some students debating which courses to take, while others discussed the strictness of Professor Everyquil.

In the courtyard, Zix, Dorian, Marlena, Greta and Kiraen lingered by one of the glowing fountains.

---

First-year classes
Below are listed the mandatory and elective classes during your first-year at Misthaven. Mandatory classes are listed with their benefits, while elective classes are used for roleplaying and to justify increasing one or more related skills by spending XP.

First semester - Mandatory classes


Electives (choose or roll)

---

You now have 10 time slots, each lasting just under two hours, to structure your daily schedule. These slots represent your active hours for learning, working, and engaging in extracurricular activities. To ensure your well-being and magical proficiency, students are advised to dedicate at least 2 slots to rest and sleep. Additionally, it is highly recommended to set aside at least 1 slot per day for self-study, allowing you to prepare for exams and deepen your understanding of magical concepts.

Sample schedule:

Marlena’s search for an extracurricular leads her to The Arcane Crucible, a slightly chaotic workshop guild near the Biblioplex. This group is a haven for tinkerers, artificers, and arcane engineers who seek to push the boundaries between magic and technology. Housed in a small building near the library, the Crucible is a sprawling laboratory filled with half-finished constructs, suspended spell cores, and shelves stacked with glowing blueprints. The air crackles with latent energy, and the occasional small explosion or burst of rogue magic is considered a normal part of the creative process.

Joining Requirements:
Students must present a functional (or semi-functional) prototype of their own design. It doesn’t have to work perfectly, but it must show ingenuity and an understanding of magitech principles. Marlena's recent hand cannon might make for an excellent entry piece—if she can stabilize its barrel before presenting it. ;)

Is Marlena interested?

Marlena is very interested. This is exactly what she's been searching for! Becoming a member shoots to the top of her priority list. Privately, she works on making her Excidium hand cannon presentable. The glow of her tools intensify as she uses them to make repairs and adjustments. She's reducing the firepower in exchange for more stability.

Dorian Hatteras getting a job but with his father's displeasure he no longer has unlimited funds with which to apport his life. It's a strange thing, but he takes it as an opportunity. With his vast network of contacts in the upper strata of society, he takes on a role assisting Misthaven in seeking sponsors and donations, and obtaining political allies.

Similarly, he seeks out the true powers at Misthaven: not those who make the rules or control the timetables or grant funding. No, he looks for those who play their fingers in the pulse of society itself and measure trends, influencing them.

As to classes, he really wants to study illusio and is left with one choice: journalism. It's not what he would have expected, but then again in the back of his mind he sees the twinkling of an idea.

After becoming acquainted with the options, Zix adjusts two entries in the preliminary schedule, picking diplomacy, persuasion, and magical journalism.



In the courtyard, it would observe those present, watching and listening to their chatter, in search of people in the kinds of situations that might provide work opportunities.

Zix's ideal of freelance work is being a discrete substitute. Taking place of a client for the time of a public performance because while she's a great violinist, she's crowd-shy. Acting as a client's much-talked-about but fictional significant other. Meeting a delinquent client's a parents as the client's prim-and-proper friend. Being seen at a specific place and time to provide an alibi for the unfaithful client.

Of course, one needs to be careful, to avoid crossing the line of law when engaging in such activities. And identification system of the academy means that substitution is not possible in certain circumstances. And finding clients can be a tricky matter, and requires observational skills, singling out people who seem to have such needs. Or, perhaps once the overall web of intrigue of an institution is clear, spreading the word to the right ears. Finally, the Critic could provide assistance as, while not unseen, at least not as noticeable eyes and ears.

Dorian had never concerned himself with the inner workings of Misthaven University. That changed when he found himself navigating the bureaucratic labyrinth in pursuit of a job, a task he had reluctantly undertaken in the face of financial necessity. His father’s purse strings had tightened, and while he despised the idea of working, he recognized an opportunity when he saw one.

The university, he quickly learned, was not a monolithic institution but a web of colleges, each with its own domain. Chronicle Hall, or the College of Lore, housed most of the university's records and administration. Yet, it was the Arcane Eloquence Institute, the College of Enchanted Expression, that held the treasury. This revelation was as intriguing as it was unexpected; there, magic and rhetoric intertwined, shaping the flow of wealth and influence within the University as much as any noble’s decree.

The Arcane Eloquence Institute was a study in contrasts, a reflection of the two deans who shared its administration: Professor Cyril Everyquil, Dean of Amplico, and Professor Calien Mirthwhistle, Dean of Illusio. Between the two of them, the treasury of Misthaven was both protected and manipulated, a dance of numbers and influence that fascinated Dorian more than he cared to admit. It wasn’t just about funds; it was about shaping the university’s future through strategic persuasion and calculated moves. The weight of it settled in his mind as he stood in the grand office where these matters were debated and decided.

He soon learned that, although small in the grand scheme of things, the position of treasury assistant was more than just bookkeeping—it was an intricate balancing act between the ambitions of the deans and the financial health of the university. Dorian would be expected to liaise between the two, ensuring that the funds flowed to the right departments, persuading benefactors to part with their wealth, and, most importantly, navigating the sometimes clashing ideologies of Everyquil and Mirthwhistle.

Everyquil would demand efficiency, precision, and unwavering discipline. He would expect Dorian to maintain strict records, analyze expenditures with a critical eye, and uphold the integrity of the treasury. A single misstep under his watchful gaze could mean the loss of credibility and trust.

Mirthwhistle, on the other hand, would likely treat Dorian as a player in one of his elaborate games, offering him insights wrapped in riddles and teaching him the subtleties of persuasion. Influence, after all, was just as valuable as gold, and Mirthwhistle understood that better than anyone. Learning from him would mean mastering the unspoken rules of power, understanding when to push and when to retreat.

The offer was no longer just a matter of employment. It was an invitation into the depths of university politics, a chance to gain firsthand experience in the art of influence and control. It was, in every way, a test.

The question remained: would he take it?