A loud boom rings outside as a battle sorcerer sets off a magical entourage of spells pointed towards the trainees. In the wonderful city of , the training facility for the Greate army is in full swing. Thankfully, the new members of the elite platoon had already finished the intensive boot camp course. Today is the day that they will meet their commanding officer. And they were late.
Jordhel sat in the meeting room, watching the timekeeper. As the water moved up and down the apparatus, it powered the timekeeper and kept it running. And it told Jordhel that they were all, for one reason or another, twenty minutes late, and he hated waiting. Jordhel had been opposed to the idea of bringing in mercenaries to join an â€œeliteâ€ platoon in the army, but his superior officers thought it would be best. They told him that there were many very strong fighters in the world, but they did not want to join the army because they didnâ€™t want to be paid so little for their services. As far as Jordhel was concerned, they just wanted money, regardless of whether they had to kill an innocent or open a gateway to the devil planes. Greedy bastards.