Arrival — The First Steps onto Campus

The gates of Von Queef University stood like the teeth of an ancient titan — tall, ornate, and faintly humming with containment wards that whispered just loud enough to be ignored. Past them, lush green lawns unrolled between academic spires like rugs for scholars and troublemakers alike. Above, a pair of wyverns looped lazily in the sky, trailing hexsigils like smoke.

Nick Kremp arrived first.

Dragging a wheeled suitcase charred at the corners, Nick clicked on a pocket recorder and spoke in a voice just dry enough to suggest he was kidding, but not entirely sure.

> “New year. New me. New roommate… hopefully not another nepo-baby comedian.”

He clicked it off with a sigh.

Far across the lawn, Ash Stonefist sat cross-legged beneath an old petrified tree, meditating with palms upturned and breath slow. Every time someone walked past, he offered them a small bow and a gesture of peace — so absorbed in the rhythm that he failed to notice the same dwarf had walked by three times already.

Jonah Subramountian, barefoot and red-robed, gave Ash a fourth wave as he passed again.

> “Morning! Morning again! Still morning!” he beamed.

Ash squinted after him.

Elsewhere, Maine stood under an enchanted archway, already scribbling in his notebook. He watched two students perform minor cantrips to levitate their luggage and mimicked the wrist motion carefully, comparing angles, adjusting grip.

> “Still not fireproof,” he muttered to himself as the spell fizzled in his palm. “Noted.”

Darius, the Catfolk fighter, strode by hauling two suitcases over each shoulder like they were stuffed pillows. He said nothing. He rarely did. A student struggling nearby with a growling steamer trunk yelped as it snapped open and tried to chew their robe. Darius didn’t break stride.

> “Should’ve declawed your luggage,” he called over his shoulder.

Just beyond the administration building, Victor Shaw slipped out of conversation with a new faculty member, smiling warmly as he tucked a forged syllabus into his coat.

> “Yes, sir. I’m very interested in elective misdirection…” He paused, grinned. “I mean, misdirection electives.”

He adjusted his collar, walked backward through the crowd, and vanished behind a hedge.

It was orientation day. Magic hummed from every surface. A bard group practiced on the lawn — badly. Someone’s familiar let out a whooping scream and fled into the trees. Students gawked, enchanted, overwhelmed.

And yet… things already felt just slightly off.

At the edge of the lawn, Ash paused. The bubbling of the courtyard fountain shifted pitch — and for a moment, he swore he heard a voice beneath the splash.

> _Balance... sacrifice..._

He opened his eyes. No one else seemed to notice.

Across the quad, Maine caught sight of something darting above the clocktower — a glimmering, silver-feathered bird that vanished midair without a trace. A celestial omen. He made a note.

Then the sky above the central hall lit up — magic gears spinning as an enormous orientation banner unfurled across the front gates.

With a bright **FOOMPH** and a gust of confetti-like light, it read:

> **WELCOME TO VQU — TRY NOT TO DIE**

Nick raised an eyebrow.

> “Well. They set the bar.”

Jonah clapped once and nodded solemnly.

> “Oh, I like this place already.”

The wind stirred. A bell chimed from somewhere deep inside the university.

Orientation had begun.