Bivyre’s eyes exploded open to the slam of two ale tankards hitting the table, causing an involuntary yelp. Hal stood above her smiling. 

“The potatoes will be here soon!” She sat down and picked up her mug. “Sorry to wake you up.”

“Uh, yeah, thanks…” was her groggy response, returning her head back to her forearm and fidgeting with her drink. “I still don’t understand why we had to wake up so early to watch another admission ceremony. We just returned from that hobgoblin errand and I only got two hours of sleep.”

“You only need four hours of sleep anyway,” Hallie rolled her shoulders and took another swig. “Besides, I’ve got an idea!”

It took a great amount of effort for Bivyre to turn her head to deliver her deadpan facial expression.

“Well, you’re always complaining about not having enough backup when we’re fighting, and I just thought that maybe we could add one person to our troop!”

There was a short moment of silence as Biv thought. “I don’t know Hal. I… do think that it would be wise to add someone, you know. But… I don’t….” She sighed, unsure of what to say next. “I just don’t know.”

Hallie smiled, “What’s the worst that could happen?”  

“I can think of a lot of ‘worsts,’” Bivyre sat up and grabbed her mug. “Besides, we’d have to split bounties into threes.”

“Yeah, but with three people we could take on bigger jobs and make up the difference!” Bivyre had to recognize that she had a point, and her friend continued, “And if they mess around, it’s two against one.”

The elf sighed again. As Hallie started to smile, she offered a condition. “If anything seems off then we just quit the whole drafting operation- got it?”

“Finally!” She belly laughed and stuck out her half-empty tankard. “To new beginnings.”

Bivyre managed a weak smile. “Hear hear.”

As they drank their toast, a gaggle of people entered through the great wooden doors. They burst in looking like they had rushed there, but after entering the building, most of them looked confused. 

“Here we go…” Bivyre muttered, sinking down into her seat and hiding her face with her tankard. Hopefully, none of the newcomers would decide to sit with them. “Anyone that looks interesting?”

“They all look interesting,” Hallie craned her head in various directions. “What are we looking for?”

“Um, maybe someone with heavy armor? Shield?”

Hal scrunched her face to the side, and as her eyes whizzed back and forth, Bivyre held her breath. If the throws of reality could bend to her will, she would have simply wished no hopeful adventurers were visiting Tartip's Adventurer's League that day. 

“Ha! Oh, Biv, I found the perfect one!”

Unfortunately, she held no power over the chaos wielded by her human friend. Trying to hide her wince, Bivyre took another swig of her drink. “Which one is it?” 

“The tiefling with super thick white and gold armor and a really big shield.” 

“Her?” Bivyre stared bewildered. “Are you sure she’d be a good fit?” 

Hal raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Yeah?” After a glare from her friend, she added, “We won’t know until we talk to her.” There was some silence as the human sighed. “It’s not like you even have to say anything. I’ll just do all the talking and you can just sit awkwardly.”

“I just don’t really...” Bivyre wasn’t actually sure what she was saying; at this point, she was stalling for time, something her friend saw right through. “I don’t know.” 

Still smiling, Hallie began to move away from the table, much to the chagrin of her Elvin friend. “All you have to do is say the word and we’ll keep looking! There’s no pressure.” After she had spoken, the human paused for a moment, as if to obtain silent permission, and then headed at top speed toward the gaggle of stupified strangers. 

Bivyre’s heart was beating up out of her chest; she could only watch while Hal approached the tall orange tiefling. She couldn’t tell what the two were talking about, but both were smiling. Before she knew it, the pair was heading toward her table, and it was fine. In desperation, she grabbed her flagon, only to stare into the dry bottom of the cup. With no other options, she gulped, then dawned a weak smile as the stranger came into range.

Hal reached the table with her silly smile and gestured her hand toward the huge tiefling. “So Biv, I’d like you to meet my new friend Psudae.” The elf offered a small wave and the tiefling smiled. “Psudae, this is my friend Bivyre.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The tiefling’s eyes were pupilless, but she made up for her unsettling appearance with a genuine smile.  

“Of course, the pleasure’s all mine.” Bivyre was wearing a shaky grin. There was no way for her to predict the way this situation would play out, and she barely heard Hallie offering Psudae to sit down. What should she say? Did she have anything to say? Anything important? What if she said something wrong? 

“So, Bivyre, what do you practice?” The question the tiefling posed had caught her totally off guard, and, although she opened her mouth, only meaningless sounds came out. 

“Um… well,” She felt the pressure to speak, but the words that she knew she had to use were buried under a mountain of fear, a reality that only managed to make her more embarrassed. “I uh… I’m a wizard you see, I uh, practice magic and, uh, experiment with it, yeah. That’s basically it!” Her smile was just as shaky, but she kept it going. Hopefully, she had answered the question enough that she wouldn’t have to continue talking.

“Really? That’s interesting. Which school did you go to?”

“Well, I, uh, graduated with honors from Sylmar’s School of Magic and War. Um, yeah, I majored in Evocation and minored in Abjuration magic, and received my Degree in Magical Experimentation.”

“Oh! What was your Apex Creation?”,

Bivyre felt a smile creeping across her face. “Uh, I actually was able to find another use of dragon parts, well, in the magical sense. By exhuming out the palatine uvula, well, that is, the small hanging ball at the back of its throat, you can extract a substance that can be refined into tiny balls of the dragon’s corresponding breath weapon element. They can be used as a material in any spell to change the spell's whole makeup so that its effect takes on the dragon’s elemental properties.”

 “Interesting…” 

“Yeah,” She took a very deep sigh. “So, uh, what do you do?”

The conversation continued, and as Psudae spoke of her service to Akthos, Bivyre couldn’t help but notice Hallie staring over at the northeast corner of the tavern. A ragged newcomer had joined Sir Jeffory “the Shadow'' in the nook of secrecy or whatever. She sent up a prayer that Hallie wasn’t making any little nefarious plans in that scheming mind of hers. 

After a couple more minutes of curt conversation, Bivyre caught a look coming from Hallie’s direction. “So, Psudae,” she added after a small break, “Um...Hallie and I are looking for someone to join our group. You look like you could take some hits, and you obviously have plenty of skill. I’m sure you won’t have too much trouble passing the Admission Test.”

Psudae blushed a little. “I’m flattered that you think so. I, of course, don’t want to make any promises that I can’t keep, but if I can manage to pass the test I would be happy to join you.”

“Great!” Hallie jumped in her chair and attacked her new friend with a hug. 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about the test. As long as you’re lucky or strong enough to kill a bear you should be able to pass it without difficulty.” She paused for a minute to think and added, “In fact, we could give you a short synopsis of it if you’re dying to know.”

“No,” the tiefling shook her head, still smiling, “I don’t mind. I like surprises.”

Hallie squealed with excitement. “Oh my lords, this is so exciting! I’ve never cared about an admission ceremony before!”

If almost on cue, Zepheil burst through the back doors with the flair of a peacock in season. Bivyre let out a sigh of relief, knowing that the time for small talk had passed.

Everyone shifted so that he could stride uninhibited. The walk was long and painful, and it was still a mystery to everyone how his giant cape had never caught on anything during his vanity trips. Nevertheless, each person in the crowd with reason to care watched his every step in the hopeful anticipation that this day would be the one where the pompous bird got caught up in his own feathers.  

He eventually reached the platform and asserted his dominance over the crowd of onlookers by thrusting his arms out over the crowd like a father to the hundreds of his loud, uncontrollable children. The hall suddenly went dark, leaving only a small radius of light on the platform illuminating the exquisitely dressed man. Everyone waited with great excitement for his opening words. 

“Adventurers! It’s ADMISSION DAY!”

The whole place erupted in applause and cheers, almost overpowering the grand words that had elicited them. As usual, the newcomers took a moment to swallow their fear and confoundment and clap along with the rest. Bivyre smiled at the thought.

With no care to be subtle, his hands spread over the crowd and it fell silent once again. “First of all, I would just like to thank you all. To the adventurers here, waiting, and passed. Thank you for continuing to fight for the good of the world. Thank you for making great decisions, and also… terrible decisions!” He paused for effect, and there was scattered applause. “But truly,” he bellowed, “This life is full of tough choices, trials, and confrontations, and we must accept that sometimes we will fail. Some who flirt with that idea become philosophers. Those who accept it become valuable members of society, and those who don’t, don’t. But!” his voice echoed horrendously through the hall. “Those who confront them, those who fight no matter the odds, no matter the failure, no matter the cost: become ADVENTURERS!” 

Ruckus cheering overwhelmed the space once again as Zepheil spread his arms wide for emphasis, his face staring over the crowd with a dramatic smile. The boisterous ovation was hedonistic in nature, stroking their employer’s ego and enjoying the shamelessness of it all. 

“So yes, some may call us trouble-makers, nuisances, ‘unable to mind our own business,’ but it is our job to pry; to put our noses where they don’t belong. For the GREATER GOOD!” 

Another explosive applause. Bivyre found the stimulating environment dizzying. She glanced towards her friend, who was standing to smack her tankard against another’s in a toast, while their new tiefling companion sat smiling, very confused. At that moment, the elf felt some inkling of connection between the two of them, making a concerted effort to send a knowing look her way.  

“Now, my friends,” Zephiel said, noticing the crowd’s ebb. “Today I very much hope to be inviting new faces into our incredible organization; inviting them to enjoy the perks and risks of our particular line of work.” The crowd gave a quick cheer before dying once again to Zepheil’s mighty hands. 

“I cannot say that you take this job without danger. Terror will be an inescapable feeling when facing impossible foes. Many of you will suffer at the hands of your missions, many will face death. For some, the honor and riches you may acquire will outweigh the risks of taking on these terrible tasks. For some, the prospect of finding a home here, and creating unbreakable bonds with their fellow warriors overpower the possibility of pain and torture, and death. Still, more of you brave souls stay because of duty, a promise to protect this fragile world and its powerless inhabitants. Anguish in the face of such an aim will be no match for your determination! I believe all of you here, willing to take on this challenge have already found your reason, your drive. For without it, you are just a husk, fighting with the wind.”

Bivyre rolled her eyes.

“Perhaps, the most challenging prospect of our line of work is when to let go. When to stop the charade of a hero. For when one has devoted their life to something, how hard is it to let go of that drive when all is said and done? How can one truly live on? You must know what you are here for. It is only then that it is possible to know when to leave this dreadful employment and rest, Rest in the knowledge of a job well done. 

“It is my deepest wish that each one of you knows your purpose in due time. That each one of you can learn what truly matters within the dark recesses of your heart. Realize what you’re striving for will only give you a purpose; a reason to live, and peace in your last moments. That, above all else, is the calling of an adventurer! Thank you!”

Hooting and hollering like a hoard of children, the audience stood in unison. From her limited perspective, Bivyre could see no one who rested after the speech. Uproarious applause carried throughout the hall, irreverent and wild, but joy-filled nonetheless. Only experience would have suggested that this crowd was only grateful that their employer’s lengthy address had concluded.

Pampered with attention, Zepheil strode off the platform and toward a side door to his right, waving to his adoring fans along the way. He made such a pompous exit that it was hard to notice the halfling walking into the spotlight. Hallie fidgeted in her seat. 

“It’s almost time!” She whispered to the table, turning for a second. “I’m so excited!” Bivyre peaked at the tiefling from the corner of her eye. The girl continued to smile, but Bivyre thought she caught a slight twitch in her white eyes. 

Up stepped Tenad, the little halfling Vice-league master. He was a small pudgy man, dressed in the clothes of a forgotten fashion, wearing his mouth determined line. His voice thundered like Zepheil's, but with much less pomp. To his side sat two different baskets, all just coming short of his three-and-a-half-foot tall frame. 

“Yes, well, thank you Mr. Zepheil.” He began, his voice tired and monotone. “I’m sure you all know the drill, but I’ll explain it for the newbies. The Admission Challenger’s names are in this basket and some of the names of our League members are in this one. They all vary in experience and age, just like the participants, so it’s really all up to random chance. Once two names are picked, both participants will enter this ring- well, box, and duke it out until one of them beats the other.

“There are two different ways you can win the challenge. The first way, of course, is to knock your opponent out cold. Before anyone leaves, I would like to assure you that there will be a cleric standing by to heal any and all injuries that may have been inflicted while in the ring- box. And before you ask, death is a possibility in this ring, and we have put measures in place to help to remedy it if the case arises,” he said, conjuring a magical counter, “We haven’t had a death in this ring for the last five assemblies. So good job everyone.” 

There was scattered applause. 

“As I said, there are two ways to achieve victory in this challenge. The second way to beat your opponent is to somehow force them outside the box’s outline. It’s imbued with magic, so anyone operating it will be able to know if the line has been passed. If you try to tinker with the line or its operator in any way, you will be disqualified. That’s about it really. If the league member manages to beat you, unfortunately, you will not pass the challenge. You’re welcome to relax here for the rest of the day, but you will not receive an Adventuring License and therefore will not be able to return to this Hall until the next Admission Day in two weeks. You’re welcome to take the challenge as many times as you would like. League members!” His tone became more authoritative, “Remember that if you beat your challenger, you’ll get a cash prize as well as a scaled improvement to your league standing.” He stopped for a moment and sighed. 

“Alrighty, let’s get this over with.” 

The crowd broke out into cheers of excitement. Hallie was shaking in her seat and Bivyre chuckled at her, hoping to get an explanation. 

“What?”

“It’s just so funny, you’ve never been this excited for Admission Day before.”

Hallie snorted, “Well, maybe I’m just inspired by that amazing speech. Don’t judge me.”

The crowd watched anxiously as Tenad reached into the League member basket. Hundreds of eyes trailed the halfling's stubby hands as he unfolded the chosen paper. Hopefully, the first fight would be entertaining. All ears waited as his mouth opened to reveal the name. 

“Hallie Rostom.”