"Welcome. If you're in this auditorium, I assume you've heard and accepted the sales pitch."

The auditorium was small: Lazlo estimated it'd fit less than fifty people total, and so far, it had maybe fifteen. Lazlo himself was sitting in the back row, next to the door, fidgeting. He had been doing that a lot lately. 

 In the front, lecturing the class was a woman. Older, Lazlo pegged her as being around fifty years old. Maybe late forties. He wasn't good with age. 

 "So," she continued, "since you're all accepted the sales pitch, I can skip the summary of what the Department does. We're the men in black, but for dragons and wizards." Flaring her nostrils a bit, the woman pushed her glasses, large, horned rimmed things that gave her the look of an exceptionally stern librarian. 

 "As such, we'll move on to a more thorough explanation about the phenomina surrounding you all." Raising her cane, she pointed at Lazlo. "You. Lazlo Montgomery. Explain your...powers," She demanded, her tone turning sour on the last word.

 Lazlo paled. Crap. This was why he had sat in the back. Fidgeting, he coughed a bit. "I, um. The Agent who, um, recruited me called me an S-Type? I guess it has to do with the...game thingies?"

 At the prompt, said game thingies brought themselves to the forefront of Lazlo's mind. They were always there, of course: lurking at the back of his mind, ever since the...incident. 

Lazlo Montgomery

LV 2

STR: 2

END: 1

INT: 3

CHA: 2

SPRT: 1

SPD: 2

There was more information, like skills and perks, but Lazlo had to concentrate to bring it to the forefront usually. The woman at the front frowned. "Yes, the...game thingy. I assume bringing it up forced your parameters to the front of your mind. If its any comfort, as you grow more used to the system, you'll develop more control. Now, does anyone here actually understand what the system does? What it allows?"

Another person in the room hesitantly raised a hand. "Brandon Marshal. This isn't high school: you don't have to raise your hand," the woman said dryly. "Speak."

The man, who appeared to be in his early forties, Lazlo wagered, took a deep breath. "Um, it lets you increase your abilities, unlock super-powers and other stuff in order to help... fight monsters?"

The lecturer raised an eyebrow. "Close, but were you graded for that awnser, you'd receive partial credit, at best. The Parameters, as you explained it, allow you to achieve abilities in excess of the average human through training and acheivement. However, fighting monsters is merely one of its myriad purposes: those blessed with Parameters can pursue any path they want. Research and development, thaumcraft and theurgy, analytics..." She paused, almost for effect. "Much like humanity as a whole, S-Types are unbound by any restrictions beyond what society and their own talent limit them to. Now, hunting monsters is a good way to develop, and all of you will likely have the odd foray into the field even if you pursue other professions, but-"

"Why are we even sitting here? This is all obvious as shit. 'You can do more than just fighting'. No dip! Why does this need to be explained to us?" One person, a young man in glasses said, voice fairly high pitched, complexion somewhat pimply and greasy, a sneer on their face. "Why can't we just move onto the good stuff, like magic? I want to be a wizard and get to the monster killing, not listen to this basic ass tutorial shit."

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The lecturer closed her eyes, and let out a deep, pained breath from her nose. "One every year..." She muttered before opening her eyes. "Buck Harris. Age 21. Interests include programming, video games, and assorted media associated with the 'nerd' subculture. Why, exactly, do you think you're remotely qualified to study thaumcraft?"

"I don't know about thaumcraft," Buck drawled, "But I'm almost definitely qualified to learn magic if that's what you're asking: I have an int of 4, meaning I'm probably the most qualified person in this room to study it. Besides, everyone knows that magic has all the good shit."

Lazlo frowned. Wow. This person was...

Well, viscerally unpleasant. 

The Lecturer nodded for a moment, staring at Buck, before turning back to the rest of the class. "Right. Bucky here-" she said, ignoring the young man's protests at the nickname, "-is a perfect example of why we make this orientation mandatory. Bucky here is what we in the Department call a One Monther. Because in each and every group of S-Types we bring in, there's always one who only lasts a month."

"Please, I'm not going to flunk out that quickly-"

"Who said anything about flunking?" The Lecturer cut in sharply. "You aren't a One Monther because you'll flunk, you're a one monther because by the end of the month you'll likely be dead in a shallow grave, either from your own stupidity or from making a bad call because you lack experience."

Buck paled a bit. "I don't-"

"Buck Harris, stab yourself with your pencil." The words came out quickly, but not rushed, each syllable echoing with purpose, purpose and power, and for a moment, Buck's paleness went sheet white and Lazlo saw him freeze. Lazlo saw, to his horror, him twitch, as if trying to move...or resist moving.

After a moment, he stilled, and let out a breath. The Lecturer gave a smirk. "You wanted to know how magic worked. Lesson one: names. When you learn someones name, you can, with the right training, compel them to act ways which you desire. The only limit to this ability is willpower, energy, and arcane strength. Intelligence? Intelligence is irrelevant for the vast majority of magical rituals: most of the calculations can be performed by a TI-84."

"Why the actual FUCK-"

"Language, Bucky. As for why, that was a lesson you severely needed." The Lecturer leaned forward, eyes predatory, and Lazlo noted, to his dismay, that they were gold colored. "You assumed, firstly, that magic was a matter of book-smarts. While book-smarts is important, there are plenty of situations in which it is utterly irrelevant. Further, you assumed that magic was a matter of fireballs and magic missiles that you could use to kill monsters. In practice, its anything but. Magic is many things: powerful. Dangerous. But at its core, magic is ritual, Bucky, ritual and mysticism and mystery and strangeness."

Grinning, the Lecturer's demeanor sent a chill down Lazlo's spine. "But worstly, you assumed that you were hot shit, when, in fact: you are nothing. I've seen hundreds of S-Types come through these halls. Some went on to become legends. Some merely did their jobs competently. Some crashed and burned. Would you like to know the thing they all had in common? Their successes and failures had nothing to do with level or stat, and everything to do with how they handled themselves and acted when under pressure. So, in the future, when you brag about having above average stats? Don't: you're still a tiny shit in a pond more infinite, strange, and bizaare than anything your brain can comprehend at this stage."

Leaning back, the Lecturer dropped her grin, comporting herself a bit, before looking at the watch on her wrist. "Well, that diversion was amusing, but it ate up the time we had, so, to keep things nice and short, your abilities can improve themselves in four manners: firstly, through accomplishing impressive tasks. Secondly, through dedicated training and research. Third, through accomplishing tasks assigned to you by the Parameters. The fourth...will be covered at a later date. Through these methods, your level increases, giving you improved stats, skills, and special traits. While you aren't graded in orientation, allow me to assign a little bit of homework for you all: improve a stat or skill before tommorows lecture, and I'll have a prize for the winner. Dismissed: remember, you can access any part of the facility rated Blue or lower. Attempting to go to a area restricted to you WILL get you shot."