You prepare yourself for adventure, equipped with all the knowledge of literacy and the wonders of Arcane spellcasting/punching and none of the actual spells.
Bastion Gem in hand, you bathe in the blue light of teleportation, shortly finding yourself staring up into a beautiful morning sky in an open glade. Around you, other graduates you are mildly acquainted with materialise.
Behind you, a mule snorts. At least, you assume it is a mule. It is a stout, broad creature of humorously small stature with a bulbous head atop unnervingly rippling neck muscles. It observes you with uncaring, bulbous eyes. A nauseating brightly coloured headband, embroidered in cheerful script, proclaims it to be Carl. Carl is displeased.
Attached to Carl is a large cart, stocked with several crates. You consider some of these might contain the wands, and others, the supplies you were promised to receive.
A light, cool breeze rustles nearby trees in a lazy sway. The air here is slightly sweet and peaceful. Before you, a babbling stream gurgles and sloshes down as a waterfall, raising gentle mists. A rough stone stairway descends beside it, leading down into a circular chasm. You would need to get closer to see more.
You consider your options and the brief knowledge of the local area you received. Down the steps - the dungeon. To the Northwest, through the forest, lies the outskirts of civilisation. Far to the south lies the haunted Barrowlands, a place of opportunity but teaming with the undead. To the northeast, the forest deepens.
Bastion Gem in hand, you bathe in the blue light of teleportation, shortly finding yourself staring up into a beautiful morning sky in an open glade. Around you, other graduates you are mildly acquainted with materialise.
Behind you, a mule snorts. At least, you assume it is a mule. It is a stout, broad creature of humorously small stature with a bulbous head atop unnervingly rippling neck muscles. It observes you with uncaring, bulbous eyes. A nauseating brightly coloured headband, embroidered in cheerful script, proclaims it to be Carl. Carl is displeased.
Attached to Carl is a large cart, stocked with several crates. You consider some of these might contain the wands, and others, the supplies you were promised to receive.
A light, cool breeze rustles nearby trees in a lazy sway. The air here is slightly sweet and peaceful. Before you, a babbling stream gurgles and sloshes down as a waterfall, raising gentle mists. A rough stone stairway descends beside it, leading down into a circular chasm. You would need to get closer to see more.
You consider your options and the brief knowledge of the local area you received. Down the steps - the dungeon. To the Northwest, through the forest, lies the outskirts of civilisation. Far to the south lies the haunted Barrowlands, a place of opportunity but teaming with the undead. To the northeast, the forest deepens.