'Incarnum'? that's not gonna be on google!

A Frustrated Web browsing session later turning up the dividends of the darkest conspiracies on the net, but nothing the slightest concerning a magical academy later. You are wiped from the clickbation your tireless fingers conducted through the foray of the Internet. Your body ached and your stomach grumbled, but just as you were about to throw in the towel another ambiguously anonymous message appeared in your inbox once more. This one you were also quick to open and it seemed to be a brochure dedicated to this academy, even more off putting was how this scam could have known you were searching for just this information. Assuming the anonymous source is the same both times these messages have illusively appeared.

The brochure itself detailed a comprehensive text of the various courses available by the university, naming a few like Heirophant, and Alchemist but of course Battle Mage. Overlayed these calligraphered texts were high Def gif's of the academy grounds, you watch as a towering mountain rises from the depths of a thick fog capped with a majestic fortress crowned with its own intricately decorated battlements and halls throughout its intuitively devised fortification. This was Incarnum University for Magic Evocation, the top battle school in the region. The school boasted high success scores with HME in the at lowest 88.9 with one alumni, and recognizable 37% dropout rate made the institution a cut throat island of learning.

You were stunned but befuddled naught for long as you had decided to get to the bottom of this and so combed through your hair and grabbed your essentials in a quest out the door and astride your motor vehicle to the drive towards the other side of town, pulling up on the address mentioned beforehand in the acceptance letter. The place was dismal and rundown strip mall built into the remains of an old theater and bowling alley combo. The signs still dominate the back grown as worn away they are some 50 years since their prime. The store you are looking for however stands pretty clearly distinguished from the rest not merely by the bright red lingerie adorned life sized pinup girl in the display case of 'Kevin's Curios' or the bereft homeless man who stood quite clearly wanking himself as he fixated on the storefront's mannequin display before him. Suffice to say the street was unpleasantly creepy as cars drove slowly always watchful behind their boxes of metal, and those who pedestrated the pavement kept their heads low and wits about them always glancing towards sudden sounds about them paranoid for their very lives.

But this is fiction so of course you are gonna go in. And you swung yourself out of your vehicle and locked t up as conspicuously careful as possible before holding your belongings tightly about you as to strode past the neighborhoods residents in a effort to avoid any disturbances while doing so, and you were successful for the most part. However while crossing behind the homeless man he found it this the moment to roar and celebrate the culmination of his climax quite blithely painting the glass with streams of his sour seed where he would have plastered the delicately crafted model instead.

Aside from being alarming however you were able to continue avoiding any trouble and stride into what you could assume would be a porn shop, but as you cross the threshold your stomach lurches for a moment and your vision blurs for a blink of a moment. Looking about to see a quite different locale than you expected packed with all manner of other patiently nervous people, the room was large and white, stacked to the brim with chairs with some desks off to one wall of the room attended by clerks of some kind shouting numbers pulled from a ticket machine that stood gallantly by the doorway beside you.

Another patron bustles in crashing softly into your back but pushing you out of the way with 'her' and you knew it was true because it was her overly stressed buoyant chest bursters hurtled into your poor spine sending you stumbling and fumbling an apology as you turn to see a gothic chic girl brushing her vibrantly purple hair out of her face as she hurriedly mumbles her own apology and grabs a ticket, and hurtles off quickly to find a place of solitude among the crowded lobby.

Now given nothing else to do, you sheepily grab a number as well and then find something place to sit avoiding the more frightful looking neighbors and settling in for a seat relatively secluded from the worst of choices but not without its delightful sights to mingle on nearby. Although being sociable is an option, now is also also a odd enough time to reminiscence about the past week and how it all began, if you had just done what they said and hadn't gotten into that...