[@Sifr][@Estylwen][@Psyker Landshark][@ERode][@AThousandCurses]

[b][h3]CAMPUS GROUNDS, LEYLINE ATTUNEMENT ZONE[/h3][/b]

The school grounds came alive with the rush of eager students. One after another, the protectors of tomorrow couldn’t help but declare their platitudes and swear their vows. Some spoke of their future glory as champions that would arise to ensure the death of villainy, while others kept it short and sweet, and more still simply saw it as their opportunity to put themselves in the spotlight for a brief moment. 

Amidst it all, Raja watched on, ensuring that no matter how vapid or longwinded the speeches were, they all ended with one notable confirmation. Whether confident or hesitant, anxious or proud, all needed to say it before the near entirety of the campus’ residents. She observed the future potentials of the nation stand on the podium and, after attuning to the golden pillar behind them, would make their choices.

“I’ll become a Sword of Wund,” one student or another would state. Others would instead move to exclaim, “For I, a Shield of Nero!”

Slowly but surely, those of the standard curriculum would be filtered through, planting themselves firmly on one side or the other of the pillar. From further north of the pillar, where the group exiting the forest would witness the ceremony, the imp would groan with disdain at Iraleth's prodding, before turning back to the group while they deliberated. "Perhaps you could leave my fate until [i]after[/i] the ceremony? Leave me tied up to a tree where I can't get away? It is, after all, a moment for your future yearbook - a glimpse of yesteryear's joyous days, innocent and full of fire. Certainly you lot would prefer that over reporting a humble shadeling like myself, yes?"

As Otis entered into the ceremony grounds as well, he'd have felt a violent glare threatening to burn into his back as he left the clinic. Gulliver hadn't said a word, nor had his plastic smile broken, but the aura of aggression was nearly tangible. This vanished as he entered the vicinity of his peers, where ideas of assault were surely the furthest thing from possibility.

As time drew on and the standard students had finished their attunements and declarations, the split between sword and shield seemed even. If one were to take the time to count each and every entrant to each side, they would find that it would have a slight lean towards Wund over Nero, but not notable enough for the untrained eye to catch on to. The loudspeaker would ring out once, blaring with Raja's voice, "The standards have said their piece and made their sides known, and so we will be moving on to the compacts! Proceed when ready, Compact 1."

And so they would. Much like Compact 3, the groups of Compact 1 and 2 also contained exactly eight students, as did the remaining groups that bore the 'Compact' name. While standard classes seemed to ballpark the number of students into a rough range of late twenties to early thirties per class, the eight-person groups remained entirely consistent and exact within compact classes.

Eventually, as Compact 2 had finished with its last attunement, Compact 3 was called to move towards the pillar, attune, and declare their faction. From further back, Valen - who had yet to attune - would observe expectantly, were Iraleth or Ciara there.