In the year 1494, at the KHAOS Academy. The graduating class sat in ordered rows, awaiting the words that would end their studies and see them, finally, Syndicated.
The students’ various chatter and recounting of their time at the academy were audible as a loud mixture of sounds within the massive windowless stone hall. The various iron-forged chandeliers and wooden torches along the ceiling and walls brought a wavering illumination to the room. The chairs were much more lavish than can be remembered upon their induction address. What before was plain, well-crafted wooden chairs, though slightly uncomfortable to sit in. They now sat in padded chairs with elegant fabric thought by some to better fit their station. The faculty they’ve been tutored by these past five years seated orderly on stage in front of them. The similarly ornate chairs had morphed to represent the individual faculty member seated upon them. Blood-red silk curtains flanked the faculty upon the perfectly built dark wooden stage. All were awaiting the Headmaster’s address and their Certification of Syndication.
Silence crept through the faculty. This silence, as though infectious, extended to the student body. All the various races and entities gathered knew what was coming. The flames on torches around the hall hanging from the walls morphed from a warm orange to a wispy purple. A Similar flame emerged from the right side of the stage, wispy, like a flame, unsure which way it was burning. The fire surrounded a skull floating onto the stage. A skull with massive Purple Gems for eyes, a singular lime green stone seemingly embedded into its forehead. His jaw housed gold and red teeth. As The skull reached the centre of the stage, Headmaster Thazduul spoke. A refined yet gravelly voice rang throughout the hall.
“A final year has passed. Momentarily Professor Smoke will announce your name. You will receive your certification and proceed to the final combat exam orchestrated by Professor Hector. Upon completion, your final grade will be solidified, as will your status as an alum of this institution. You will be assigned your Khaos Kards and issued an Initial Group. Now go forth and make the past into a reality.”
As the Headmaster fell silent, a figure arose from a chair on stage. A seemingly living suit of tight-fitting matte black scale-like armour began moving toward the Headmaster. This figure moved with silence and grace that seemed shouldn’t be possible with the weight of such armour. The students were well acclimated to the impossible things the faculty made possible. The figure moved next to the Headmaster, “Bellatrix Kane,” Professor Smoke announced in a disharmonic voice.
Among the various students rose a smallish pink-skinned Cambion with soft Elven features and long spiral horns adorned with decorative, semi-precious metal bands and dressed in fine clothes with a worn tricorn hat and highwayman’s overcoat for weather protection. Riding low on her hip was a well-crafted rapier of an elegant design and two bone-handled kukris tucked into a broad, brightly coloured silk scarf tied around her waist. She carried with her two books. The first was a simple enough leather-bound volume in which she kept her alchemical notes, complex, arcane formulas, and observations on the arcane physical world. The second book was much larger, bound in iron, a ledger where she recorded deals and struck bargains. The latter now held the names of her previous crew before coming to the academy.
Lord Zuzou, Viscount of the Seven Lakes. Never far and perched on her left shoulder was a black raven. A creature pulled directly from the dark miasma of the hellish planes and given to Bella by her father in her younger years.
Bellatrix studied economics and the arcane at the KHAOS academy. She showed a moderate talent for both when she decided to apply herself. She briefly remembered her time at the academy as she began climbing the steps to receive her certification. But her studies never did excite her. She often appeared bored or lazy when completing assignments, which were usually late. As a very accomplished liar, though, she always had an excuse or was able to shift the blame onto other students and always seemed just to escape trouble with the Headmaster.
It was her extra-curricular activities where she showed real passion. As a member of the KHAOS sailing club, she took to boats and ships of all types with a natural aptitude. She often talked of sailing the Styx after her time at the academy, if not just to avoid the price demanded by the ferryman.
Intra-planar travel was a hobby of hers and a subject she studied often. It was only natural that her talents for sailing and lying enabled her to find easily, procure, and deliver the rare, the desired, and the forbidden to the student body. Understanding the confusing nature of the Styx, its ability to confound sailors trying to navigate it, and its ability to bridge the planes was of particular interest. There was even a story going around the campus about her joining the Navy and using Navy ships to smuggle illicit cargo unwittingly. With Bellatrix, however, it’s buyer beware.
Yes, I will deliver that which you desire, but you will get “exactly what you asked for.”
A momentary embarrassment, having stated a memory out loud directly in front of the Headmaster and Professor Smoke. Quickly composing herself, almost without missing a beat, she received her certification and, descending the stairway, made her way out of the hall.
The disharmonic voice rang again, and Professor Smoke announced, “Zoz.”
A small, deep red, imp utilizing his wings ascended from his position among the students and fluttered over to the stairs to the right of the stage. The flapping and markings gave the impression of black flames rising on the lower half. His black Mohawk was as long and wild as ever, nearly masking his left eye and the yellow-lensed, white-armed, frame-less spectacles he wore. Black lines and markings accompanied his visible body. His classmates often wondered whether his eyebrows and W-style goatee were hair or simply conveniently located markings.
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As he landed and began to climb the steps, he gave a quick once over his chosen wardrobe.
Immaculate, he thought to himself. His white-lined and buttoned, red vest steamed fresh this morning.
“Check,” he muttered. He visually traced the chaos of his double-wrapped light blue belt. The second wrap strung lower on the backside to intersect with his triple-wrapped red belt. He continued to mutter as he traced from the bottom right, around back to the top right, down to the bottom left, and around the back and across the waist.
“Perfect.” He whispered.
The chaotic streams of belts perfectly held in place and complimented his black lower garment.
“Check,” he muttered and lightly tapped his drum fastened to the left side of his light blue belt.
Finally, I can begin my internship with Lord Levi. The small imp thought excitedly.
His black leather steel-tipped boots tinged slightly on the steps as he made his way to accept his certification.
Finally, He thought as his hand grasped the certification. Finally, no more menial contracts. With this, I can say no.
Zoz Descended the stairs on the left of the stage and made his way out.
“Khalid,” The disharmonic voice announced.
A massive dull grey, heavily armoured figure arose from the back row. The runic symbols engraved into the armour moved on their own. The movement was not as many pieces of armour worn but a single solid piece of armour that shifted its fittings as it moved. The dull sounds of metal hitting stone as the figure walked the centre aisle toward the stage. It reached the stage directly in front and below Professor smoke, and the Headmaster crouched down and leapt up, landing with a loud, dull clank.
“I DID IT!” He shouted, throwing his hands into the air.
“Thanks for the help this year, Headmaster. I don’t think I would have passed Advance Evil Plotting without your help. You too, professor, those extra assassination 101 lessons were a big help.”
The gravely yet refined voice replied quietly, “Khalid, we always need those who hit things exceptionally hard. Professor Hector said you were his favourite student in his 2400 years here.”
The Headmaster gave the nod to continue on. Khalid grasped his certification and jogged off the stage and out of the hall, a dull clang following him as the door shut behind him.
As the door closed, Khalid found himself in a familiar room. One of his favourite rooms. A room usually used for combat practice, it seemed outfitted for something far more exciting today. The square room lay before Khalid. The usual three equally distanced lava pools spanned half the room from the centre. The new additions were the randomly placed pillars and walls. Khalid guessed they were put there for cover or sneaking, which seemed rude as he liked to get up close and personal. There were also two new pools of liquid. One to his right side ahead about forty metres, and another he could barely see off to his left out about eighty metres.
As he scanned the room, a gruff voice almost caught him off guard.
“Khalid! My favourite student, I’ve been waiting for this, you know. I love watching you in action!” The voice rang through the room.
“Oh hey, Professor Hector! I’ve been waiting for this too. The ceremony was a little dry, but this looks much more fun!” Khalid replied.
Although Professor Hector was a magical construct of fire and steel and didn’t have a face, you could almost see the flames viewable through the open-faced helmet flowing into a smile.
“I knew you were coming first. So I brought out something that you’ll be able to take at least a few good swings at before they start to wear down.”
“What exactly are we fighting, professor?” Zoz chimed in.
“Nothing too pathetic, I hope,” Bella added.
“Now, now, little Bella, I wouldn’t have your last day here be boring. I know you and Khalid like to compete, so I got my hands on a professional.”
As they looked across the room, past the three elongated pools of lava, a massive shadow of darkness loomed on the far end where they knew another door was located.
That won’t stop me, as she strained to pierce the darkness and focus her eyes.
“No fair,” Bella said. “That’s no ordinary magical darkness.”
“No, it isn’t, Bella. We can’t have you peeking before it’s time.” The professor replied, chuckling.
“Speaking of time looks like they’re ready to begin” Professor Hector began to levitate upwards.
“Thank you. Melvia,” He said
The three looked at each other inquisitively
“Probably an assistant for the battles today,” Zoz said
“As soon as you can see em, you can kill em,” Professor Hector shouted from his ascended position far above the arena.
With a whoosh, the smoke cleared away and revealed four figures standing where the smoke had just vacated.
To the right was a tallish pale white figure with hair slicked back dressed in fine red leather, gold trim, and a cape to match.
Zoz whispered, “Vampire to the right.”
To the left was a short creature with hair like long grass and pink flower petals scattered through it, yellowish green skin and light leather robes of green with intricate white designs throughout.
Further left was a comparatively normal-looking human male. Medium-length black hair. No shirt and blue cloth pants. The only distinctive feature worth any note was a black palm print tattooed on his left shoulder.
The final figure was hooded and considerably more imposing than the others, a tall wide green orc. The only indication of the figure’s race was the green skin shown in a small gap between the leather armguards not covered by the fastened blue cape. The other was the lower half of the face that was not covered by the intricately designed white mask or the cape hood. As they scanned the orc, taking account of all defensive armour and weaponry. The orc wore spiked black leather shoulder guards. Three throwing daggers wrapped with red leather separated the blade and the handle. The holsters acted as the central cape fastener. He sported fitted black leather on his upper body. Two large daggers with the blue leather wrapping for the grip on the right side of a crossed leather belt. A leather pouch on each hip contained ten more red throwing knives of red-wrapped fashion. And to top it off, two large long hilts protruded from behind his left shoulder. The hilts were wrapped in red leather.
“Mine,” Khalid said, almost in a giddy mood.
As Zoz began to rise into the air, he gathered fire in his palms, Bella ushered Zuzou into the air for a better view, and Khalid retrieved his Steel Thorned Greatsword from his back. A long silver sword forged with forward-facing curves in the blade near the hilt and cross-facing hooks near the point, giving it a look of a snapshot of silver fire. The hilt of the sword in style matched his armour. He called out across the room, “Come on!”