The year is 1414 A.Y. and there is peace in the Yozia Empire, although there are always rumors of war with Tal’Dorei. But these wispers do not carry fear or lament but rather excitement and enthusiastic anticipation. The Empire is strong under the rule of the great Lord Guillement and people are sure that any war will result in victory.
All across the country, the vast military might of the Yozia empire trains tirelessly. There are tales of warriors who wield unimaginable magic, swordsman whose blades can cut mountains, and the brilliant armor smiths who make weapons worthy of the gods. Across the continent, 13 academies have formed to foster the creation of elite officers. Heroes who will fill the rank and help bring the nation to a brighter tomorrow.
Our story starts in one of these thirteen. A school with a less than savory reputation. The blemish of the nation, yet here it stands at the border of the Ashkeeper Peaks and the Lotusden Greenwoods. Here it stands, gates open and still enrolling new students. Some students attend because they have no other choice. Others because they hope to one day transfer to a more reputable institution. There are few that go here by choice. Whose hears fill with joy because they get to go to one of the prestigious 13, but those students are rare.
The doors of Xenarthra’s School for Heroes and Heroism opens it’s doors to new students today. Small crowds of people start to make their way towards the entrance, The name of the school spelled neatly over the metal gate.
The gates open to a large white building. A gold plaque with the schools name neatly engraved sits attached to the right of large wooden double doors. Across it’s pillars hang signs that welcome students in common. The crowd is lead past the dormitory to a large sports field. At it’s center, a stage has been constructed. Behind it, a sign hangs that reads “Welcome” in common. There are tables with signs that read “registration and room assignments” that satellite the stage. The crowd begins to thicken. People line up to register. Others stand idly, making uncomfortable small talk with strangers. Others are quick to make friends.
About five minutes after the crowd stops pouring in, a woman makes her way on stage. She is an older human woman with graying black hair and brown eyes. She wears a purple suit with a white rose pinned to her lapel. She gets to the front of the stage and clears her through meekly. A soft whispering voice booms over the crowd. The crowd slowly gets silent.
“Welcome students. I hope you found us well. We are pleased to open our doors to the 74th class of the X.S.H.H. I am the president of the first year class Ms. Andrea Wiggenstaff. Ms. Wiggenstaff is fine. I am here to make sure that your transition into our wonderful school is as easy is possible. If you have any issues or concerns, please do not hesitate to come to me for help. My door is always open and you can find that on the third floor of that big white building you saw when you first walked into the gates. Please make sure you get your room assignments before you leave here today, you can find them at the tables scattered throughout the field. They are ordered alphabetically. Now the headmaster would like to say a few words.”
At this point a slender human male climbs onto the stage. His fine black suit has been freshly pressed. His wild unkept white hair is in a messy mangled fro. His rimless glasses sit before his golden almost yellow eyes. He gets to the front of the stage and scans the room. There is a minute of silence before he speaks. His voice booms loudly over the crowd.
“I am Headmaster Xanathar and this is my school. You have come here today from far and wide because you are the best at what you do and I should be so lucky to have you. I look around me today and know that there is no one in this crowd that is worthy. Whatever trophy, award, or achievement you think you have that sets you apart from the rest means nothing today. And as ready as you think you are to go out there and prove your worth to the nation, I am here to tell you that you are not yet ready. You are still young and although what you may have achieved thus far may be impressive, it is not enough for what is to come. But you will be ready one day. And here together you will bear witness to something great. You will be the hands that help forge this generation into greatness. You will create a rich and meaningful history full of heroes and Heroism. Today you may not be ready, today you may not have what it takes to survive wars cold cruel clutches but today you take your first step towards becoming ready. I only ask you to do your best and work hard.”
The sound of a lonely pair of hands start to clap slowly. No one joins. Instead people start to move towards the tables, continue their conversations, or stare at the giant robot who stands alone, clapping awkwardly. He continues to clap until he sees an ornate flower braided neatly into a young woman’s hair. He reaches out, his arms genltly plucking the flower and before anyone could react, sticks it in his mouth. People move away from the strange robot and the strange robot goes on his way.
Ms. Wiggenstaff returns to the stage to make last minute announcements. “Don’t forget exams start tomorrow and..” her voice trails off, completely consumed by the hustle and bustle of registration day.