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Lazy Lying Lauri
Starting Profession and Job Class

Starting Profession and Job Class

Lauri walked through the front gates of the guild named Survivor Guild, better known by the nickname Worst Guild. With a nickname like that Lauri couldn't help but worry that this guild might be among the worst guilds around. "What am I doing here?" He mumbled to himself as he though back to his Job Selection Ceremony and recalls the warning given by the priest of ceremonies.

"As you take your turns entering the inner chamber, face the statue of Goddess Dike and speak clearly your desired profession, as well as the job classification it falls under. Your profession can be changed easily but class changes are far more difficult. Some of you may have heard that it's enough to only name your profession. However, some professions are available to multiple classes and in the past we've had the goddess silently decide which of those classes to assign. The goddess hasn't been recorded as speaking to anyone in 78 years now, so don't expect to be asked for clarification and you really don't want to let the goddess decide your class for you. So speak clearly and make your preferences clear. Anyone not confident in their choice a profession and class should wait until next year. I know some of those here today are 19 or even 20. If you've just turned 18 then don't feel like you must decide right now."

As he walked towards the doors of this guild, setup within an old academy building, he couldn't help chuckle. "You really don't want to let the goddess decide your class for you"... did he make a mistake, get unlucky, was he blessed? No. It's all of the above. Reaching the door he knocked and waited. Then knocked again. About to knock a third time a shout came from within, "It's a guild, do you knock on the door of a shop or a tavern!? Just enter!"

Makes sense, Lauri supposed. Opening the door he entered to a comment by that same man. "Yep, a newbie alright, just turned 18?"

"I've been 18 for 7 months now."

"What a newbie thing to say."

"Where do I register?"

"Harry Morin, the guild master, is upstairs in the A1 classroom."

"Thanks."

Soon arriving in front the classroom he slid the door open and saw the class had been refurbished, now half an office and half private reception. An old man looked up from his desk, wiping grey hairs behind his ears to better stare at Lauri with eyes a shade of green like looking into the windows of an evil soul.

"Are you the Guild Master?"

"Yes. Harry Morin. Your name and business?"

"I'm Lauri and I'm here to request registration with your guild. I heard it's the best."

"Heard it's the best? Don't tease an old man. Who told you such a thing?"

"The best for the Sealer Profession, that is. Goddess Dike was the one to tell me."

The old mans face didn't change from neutral but not because he wasn't shocked, it was a by-product of his years. "Nobody has selected the Ritualist Class in half a century, let alone started as a Sealer. No wonder she broke her silence. You choose the profession because you're aware that us old timers will soon enough all be dead? And that without someone to maintain the seals placed so long ago, on the powerful monster of old, our world is doomed?"

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"That's... not the case."

"You know you can change professions at 10th level milestones and that Sealer is a bad levelling choice?"

"I didn't chose to be a Ritualist nor Sealer."

"Oh? Do tell me what happened then."

Lauri started explaining the events of his Job Selection Ceremony, starting from his turn to enter the inner chambers. While heading in he'd glanced at the exit register and only saw Warriors and Mages from the other 12 before him. This was important as guilds have limited support for new members and this already signified a lot of competition for limited class resources. He closed the doors to the inner chamber and turned to the statue of Dike, the Goddess of Justice and Fair Judgement.

"I reluctantly select to be a Healer of the Priest class. Not because I believe in or venerate you but because this 'fair world' you created is anything but. Warriors need expensive gear. Mages need expensive spell books. The academies which once raised heroes have all shut down. Replaced with guilds who send us out to die like disposable pawns. Like everyone I want to be a powerful and famous hero. I even considered asking you to give me the best selection that I might live that dream... but... I've heard that we really don't want to let you decide our class. So I've given it more thought. So, yeah, Healer Priest it is."

Lauri waited for confirmation of his selections but nothing happened. Soon it had been longer than others had taken and he started to worry. Thinking to ask a priest, he tried to open the door but a magical barrier blocked it.

In this room he was alone in, a soft voice asked from behind him "Excuse me?" It was so unexpected that Lauri's heart jumped in his chest. Slowly panning around, he saw the avatar of the goddess, addressing him in person.

"Uhhh... Healer... Priest?"

"What's wrong with letting me pick your class?"

"Um, I've never said it. Other people said it. Not me."

"I'm making you a Sealer of the Ritualist class."

"But I said Healer. Please don't give me that crappy class. At least as a priest I have some chance of being a part of a heroes party."

She waited patiently for him to finish speaking before her voice thundered "THERE ARE NO CRAPPY CLASSES! I carefully crafted and balanced every class so that everyone could enjoy a heroes journey."

"I'm sorry. What I mean is, please make me a priest."

"A priest who doesn't venerate me? No. Do you think these blessings are a right? Do you think it's your choice? I decide, always. If I'm so kind as to give most everyone their preference then that's my choice. Not this time."

Back at the guild Lauri paused his story. The old man nodded sagely. "You're a fool, that's for sure. How nostalgic."

"Nostalgic?"

"To be young and foolish is a blessing. So, that the end of it?"

"She 'graced' me with over an hour of her time. When I finally escaped that room I collapsed from sheer exhaustion of fear. Fear of tripping over my own words, I mean, I was speaking to the literal goddess."

"A whole hour. What a blessed young man you are."

"All of the above."

"Huh?"

"Yes. I'm a very blessed."

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