Rian clapped with the rest of them. Jon hadn’t left her side since leaving the third ring. It was sweet, but she knew him wanting to be her savior was going to get him killed someday. Such fools always had their uses.

"Your un-leveled status will tell you the skills you have mastered, are close to mastering or may have a great talent for." Rian rolled her eyes. Everyone knows this information. Next, they'll be talking about how once you get your level you get great benefits and maybe even magic with the right combination. It’s a sales pitch they don’t need. If you made it here you were staying, usually.

The orientation information was one of the things that were well documented in her research. It was what wasn’t that Rian was interested in. The red crystal used for the ceremony, proudly sitting on its pedestal drew her attention. The mentions of it were fanciful. The heart of the school. A tool for status and leveling. Red stained from the blood it is given. Nothing confirmed, a lot of it came from adventurers who had mastered their Poetry skill. After reading through many of them she had to wonder about the low standards of becoming a master at poetry. Instead of listening to the orientation she decided maybe she could do better.

There once was a bunch of fools

Who were not careful with their jewels

Till they got in a fight

And lost it all that night

Jewel-less they were thereafter

"Conor Aaron, come down and see your status." That pulled Rian away from her self-distraction. It was hard to make out all the details of the three masters of the school who were sitting near the gem. One boy got up and walked down from the seats towards them. There was some inaudible talking and then he placed his hand on the gem. A few moments later a giant large blue sign projected in the center of the stadium, nearly large enough take up half of it. It floated there for all to see. A little bit of doubt and worry seeped in to grip Rian as she saw that. This would work she told herself and looked at the screen ready to learn whatever she could about all her fellow students.

Status: Connor Aaron

Age: 18 summers

Level: 0

Skills: 4

Baking

Bird Watching

Shields

Sprinting

Sub-Skills : 3

Alchemy

Blunt Weapons

Tracking

Asper’s mouth felt dry as he watched students go down one after another. Sometimes skills were varied and odd. Gardening, Massage, Fast-Talking, Prediction. Hundreds of different options displayed for everyone to see by the time they finished with those who had the “A” for their surname. He wondered what he would see for himself. He had a hard time seeing what he had mastered, but he’d dived into every skill he had ever heard about growing up. He wouldn’t call any of them successful, but he had tried.

He watched them get into the G’s paying attention to how many skills his future classmates had. Having three or four skills was average. A handful had five or six, one person had two, but had nine sub-skills to lean on and train up. He figured that was most likely what he would see for himself.

“Asper Gorn?” Asper blinked. He had missed his name and they were calling it again. Hastily he stood up and started to make his way down. It was only once he was out of the stands that he got a good look at the three Masters of Pricore Academy. They sat in three chairs what were as close to being a throne as Asper could imagine. Gilded and cushioned, large enough to hold each Master comfortably. One looked like a fighter, large and heavily muscled in decorated armor lined with fur. The other two were women. One in long purple robes, her dark hair tied up in a bun idly flipping through a book. The other was a blonde in sturdy brown leathers was filing her nails. They all looked extremely bored. Asper halted in front of them.

The blond looked up and let out a sigh. “Go on and put your hand on the gem. We don’t have all night.”

Asper touched it and a tingling sensation spread through his arm and into his body. A blue screen, his status, popped up in his vision as it did the same in the stadium.

Status: Asper Gorn

Age: 19 Summers

Level:0

Skills: 1

Generalist

Sub-Skills:1

Cultivation* - Resistance

Asper’s stomach clenched and the world spun around him. He quickly took his hand off the gem, but the visual horror of only having one skill and sub-skill stayed in his vision. It was only when he remembered from the orientation that you had to will your status away or too you that he was able to send it away. No one had a status so sad. Sound seeped into his consciousness “I said, put your hand back on that gem!” The warrior in the chair snapped at him.

Asper weakly did as he was told and the same vision entered his head again. He wondered what a generalist was. His father ran a general store and maybe this was from the odd hours he helped out from behind the counter. He’d never even heard of cultivation, maybe some kind of odd gardening skills. “That is enough. It looks like Felicia was right about this being an odd class.” The dark-haired woman said as she snapped her book shut and stared hard at Asper. The gaze made asper feel like a small insect. He quickly took his hand away and once again will his status shut.

The warrior grunted. “Well, get back into the stands. We have several hundred more to get through tonight.”

Asper let shame and dismay filled him as he made his way back into the stands. He could see some snickering and smirks that only made it sting harder. He fully expected to be last once the first set of rankings came out.

Raff read Asper’s body language like it was written in giant letters across him. He had been unsure what to expect when Asper was called up after how they had interacted on the third ring, but he was a little shocked at how plain the kid’s status was. His gut told him that there was something more, and there was no one he trusted more than himself.

Careful attention was paid to the skills of other students and by the time they got to Raff and his name, none of what Asper had listed had been duplicated. “Rian Freedman, come down and see your status.”

Four people got up and walked down. Raff had suspected the girl who had also exited ring three early would be there and she was. “Seems like every Rian Freedman in the city entered the draft this year. Who wants to be first?” Joked the big man.

Raff watched the girl step forward and place her hand on the gem.

Status:Rian Freedman*

Age: 16 Summers

Level:0

Skills:9

Deception

Dodge

Etiquette

Extermination

Languages

Perception

Research

Rumors

Small Blades

SubSkills: 6

Cultivation* - Symbiosis

Acrobatics

Information Gathering

Memory

Poetry

Stalking

Raff was slightly impressed that she had the most skills so far with an impressive list of subskills. She also shared the Cultivation aspect with Asper, but different. Something about it did make he wince once as he watched her eyes quickly go over her own status.

He heard the blond-haired woman in the chair mutter “Two.”

The other two Rian Freedman went next as Raff waited to be the last one. He almost looked forward to seeing what the reactions would be. He vaguely wondered how he would display. Having kept track of all the skills he’d seen listed so far he had a rough estimate of what he expected. “You’re last, boy.” And so Raff confidently walked up and put his hand on the gem.

Rian Freedman (Raff)

Age:18 Summers

Level: 0

Skills: 78

Cultivation*- High

Sub-Skills:185

Raff had a mild surprise that there were two more skills than he thought he would have. Including that odd Cultivation that both Asper and the girl had, but for him, it wasn’t a sub-skill. The display didn’t even show up properly as he had to focus to get it to reveal the whole list, so he simply removed his hand. The level of swearing he heard from the three masters brought a grin to his face.