《Department Obscuris》 Orientation the First "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."You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. 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 aboutthaumcraft,"Buck drawled, "But I''m almost definitely qualified to learnmagicif 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 isritual,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 hadnothingto 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." Orientation The Second Lazlo sat at the library, studying. He had homework: improve a stat or skill by tommorow. He had, for some reason, selected Int as his stat of choice. So he had hit the books. The Department had a well stocked library, thankfully: he wasn''t allowed in most of it, but the parts he could access were still informative. For example, did you know that tooth fairies weren''t actually fairies? They were witches that stole teeth to use in their rituals. Usually harmless, but when they went bad, they had a tendency to create Teethlings. (Witches, in this context, describing practitioners of thaumcraft specializing in sacrifice and sympathetic magics who operated in a coven. Or, as the book so helpfully described: cells.) The bad news was, he was having no luck improving any of his skills or stats at all. Glancing at the clock, Lazlo grimly noted that it was about four in the morning. Taking a sip of coffee (the building had a LOT of coffee machines), he turned the page. Scratching at the yellow wristband on his arm, Lazlo felt his mind drift, and forced it back into focus, sipping more coffee to banish the feeling. However, he had to admit, he was running on fumes: he hadn''t slept last night OR the night before. Distantly, he hoped that the homework was optional, because otherwise he was probably going to fail. Still, he needed to at least try. Maybe next time I''ll focus on a lower stat like endurance or...whatever SPRT is. Spirit? I''unno. Closing his book, he moved on to his next topic, one a bit more mundane: geology. Hey, you never knew what would be useful, right? Rubbing his eyes, Lazlo yawned, only to recieve an electric jolt and a headache. Through staying up longer than 24 hours, you''ve unlocked the All-Nighter Perk! +10% to Fatigue Resistance, Coffee has increased effects! The Research Skill has reached rank 2! Seething, Lazlo waited until the messages faded away. Why couldn''t the Parameters, like, use some kind of video game screen or something? Messages popping up in his brain didn''t sound bad on the surface, but it always without exception hurt like hell when it occured spontaneously (when he brought up his Parameters, it was different). He had his theories about that, of course: maybe it was his physiology modifying itself automatically. Maybe the human neurological system wasn''t optimized to deal with the parameters. Maybe he had a condition. Still, a useful improvement. He had passed the lecturers....test? Task? Regardless, he needed to keep this up if he wanted to avoid being a one-monther, even if he doubted he''d be flunked. He had seen what happened to people when they fucked up or got unlucky at this job, and he didn''t want to join them: ergo he needed to excell as much as possible. Plus, he was feeling better now: in theory, 10% didn''t sound like a lot. In practice, it elevated his condition from "tired and miserable" to "just tired", meaning he could push himself a bit further. Standing up, Lazlo put the books back. Right. That was done for now: maybe he''d go do some physical exercise for a bit. While he was at it, he brought up his parameters. His FULL parameters.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Lazlo Montgomery LV 2 STR: 2 END: 1 INT: 3 CHA: 2 SPRT: 1 SPD: 2 Skills: Disguise 1 Research 2 Lore 1 Cooking 3 Focus 1(+1) Chemistry 1 Perks: All-Nighter Rank 1: +10% to Fatigue Resistance, Coffee gives bonus effects Survivor Rank 1: -5% to Terror effects, Focus receives +1 Bonus Touched by Nightmares Rank 1: Will always suffer nightmares when you dream. INT is increased by 1 at base. Well. It was getting easier to bring up his Parameters, at least. Lazlo shuddered at the last two "perks". Survivor was...handy, at least. From what he understood, Focus was a harder skill to improve, so the bonus was nice, and the fact it wasn''t a base increase meant he could still raise it further eventually. Touched by Nightmares... Lazlo sighed. It hadn''t been his choice. Not at all. And it was probably the chief reason he had stayed up this late, honestly: he didn''t want to wake his room-mate up by screaming.
"To those of you who managed to pass my little test, congratulations. You''ve no doubt realized how painful it is to improve a stat or skill, but hopefully you improved in a way that will be useful to your chosen career goal." The lecturer stared them down, and most people looked uncomfortable. "I wager only a few of you managed to improve this way." She said, voice level. "Don''t worry: this method takes time and elbow grease, but its universally effective up to a certain point. If you keep working, within a few years you should have a smattering of skills at rank five at least." "Um. Isn''t that a little...low?" "Brandon Marshal. Your concern is duly noted. However..." She pushed her glasses up as she stepped forward. "How many of your skills are at five NOW?" Silence. "That''s what I thought. You see, traditionally, the edges of human capability, unaugmented by magic, lie around five or so. Five is the very edge of potential: in simpler terms, the number of traditional prodiges." She paused. "However, that ISN''T a hard and fast rule, I should note. For example, I''ve seen some skills where the edge of mundane ability was around six, seven, or in one case, ten: that skill is Fast Talk, for reference," she explained. "Further, as I''ve mentioned, through magic and other means, its possible to simulate higher scores. Those of you who have signed up for the Thaumcraft class, you''ll find one of the first skills they''ll teach you is a spell designed to improve your ability at knitting, for instance." A hand rose up. "Triffany Golding. 45. Again, you don''t have to raise your hand." The speaker, a middle aged lady at the edge of her midlife spoke, with a crackly, smokey voice, the voice of someone who enjoyed cigarettes a little too much. "Yesterday, you mentioned other ways to improve ourself. Can that help us go higher than five?" The lecturer grinned. "And now you see why S-Types are so valuable. Yes, through various means such as Achievements, Tasks, and other things, it is possible to get higher than the human limit. Though," she said, voice taking a note of warning, "I must advise some caution: you''re not gods. I''ve seen men and women with skills and stats well above the limit be TORN apart. At the end of the day, S-Types are still mortal, and still a tiny fish in a large pond. They just have a few more tools." The class murmured a bit at that, and a familiar voice scoffed. Bucky again. This time the lecturer simply rolled her eyes, and continued on, ignoring them. "The various threats and anomalies are classified by the Type system, which groups threats by common origin and, by extension, most common weaknesses: for example, D-Types correspond to threats of an infernal nature. Hell-spirits, demons, devil-contractors, spirifers, and so on. We''ll be discussing the major Types you''re likely to encounter in the field, and some basic preventative measures: however, note that there is no one size fits all solution. Salt circles may stop incorporeal daemons, but if you wind up with a hell-spirit possessed pig, all that salt will just help season you."