Excellence

Evar 'Two-Heart' Za'Darmondiel.

***

A burst of that golden light disappeared the oppressive shadow of Zimysta Falls forever. In its place was a wide dais of tiled stone, overlooking a never-ending sky swathed in motes of light, vibrant clouds, and a giant point of blue light. It was… too much.

Everything was.

Many were overwhelmed by the realm's sheer vastness. Even with the knowledge that came from their blessings, many grew nauseous, threw up, or even passed out from sensory overload. But a few were not shocked in the slightest. Abbot Eiriol, me, Sid, and of course, my sons, Etan and Eban.

Before we could even recover or catch our bearings, however, Amun appeared. Or rather, a facsimile of him formed before each of us in different forms, much like Telin during his intervention. But even then, his voice radiated throughout the realm, explaining that everyone who came here from Zimysta Falls would exist within the capital of his Empire of Empires, which itself existed both in the mortal realms and here, in the center of his divine realm.

In both places, our new lands appeared as a chain of mostly spherical realms orbiting his world, Mani. On its surface, seen from the Mortal Plane, Mani was a barren desert of fine blue-white sand imbued with Amun's holy power. Inside, however, existed his divine realm of Eotrom. A vast, perhaps infinite space filled with dozens upon dozens of stars and clusters of these spherical realms, all connected to his phantasmal divine tree.

He pointed out the various 'worlds' of the Troupe, then motioned to the vibrant field spread around the 'system.' A truly vast cloud of gas and dust appeared as Etan's true self on a magnificent scale, with Mani and the Troupe's worlds placed in various points of its body. Just like mine, Abbot Eiriol's, and a few others. It was a sight that made every drow present weak in the knees, for the remaining 4,400 astral monks would attain the same power of the Nebulous Way.

It was in the depths of that nebula where Etan wove his world, and where we of the Astral Way were guided. Like many other places, it was a vast sphere of greens, whites, browns, and every other color imaginable, half swathed in light. Yet unlike those worlds, we quickly realized, it was without the mana our species depended on; the mana that Youtera created life from.

"Shortly after I joined Amun," Etan began. "I concluded that only a species of gods in the shape of humans could come to realize such truths and hold such power after only a few hundred thousand years of existence using to magic. Simultaneously, I realized he shared his knowledge and power too freely. And so, I made this timeless world without magic to test his legionaries with the skills those gods developed - skills that have no need for magic - to make them worthy.

"One of my clones has remained here since the world was created, learning to thrive in such a way. But before even that, we found something truly special." My son, Etan, beamed in a way I never saw before. "Within a dungeon in Redagh, we found an ancient relic placed there by the Raven Reaper herself. The vestige of Ari-Zmon. Upon arriving here, Amun and I ventured into the Astral Plane to find them, then returned here to summon them, forging a pact that gave rise to what you see around you. The Noctis Halls of Excellency."

While the name Ari-Zmon was worth pondering, we were astounded by the stone halls that had been made with bare hands. A vast realm of cities, labyrinths, and natural spaces meticulously crafted as a course that led to the bowels of this world. Bowels Etan steadily guided us toward.

I grew ever curious as Etan led us deeper into his world. As did the rest of us. Even Abbot Eiriol. In the light of braziers, a most-curious history was carved into the stone. A history of… progress, and war. A tale of creation using the resources of the realms to cause as much destruction as an Arch-Wizard. And at its end was a hidden chamber. Within sat another facsimile of Amun, standing around a strange silver mushroom, large and with many conduits protruding from its flesh.

The light is radiated was like an illusory field, depicting miniature renditions of those legendary legionaries we heard so much about, paired with twenty well-dressed surface dwellers seated at a ringed table.

Pleasantries were exchanged, declaring how much we, the Troupe, and the others had changed while we remarked on the strangeness of their background. After, Amun gave us a rundown of military business while simultaneously finalizing the Legions' standards with these Imperators, as they were called.

By his order, the military of this… 'Hill Base' was to remain separate from the Legions until further notice. Yet their rules and regulations regarding requests would remain the same. Above all, our doctrine states that the Legio Noctis does not work for money. That said, we do not work for free. Even if it is a meal and a bed, information, a favor, a pledge of loyalty, prisoners, or anything else, it will suffice. However, the final decision goes to the commanding officer.

The decision to ally with, conquer, or destroy any place or entity is to be decided by that unit's Commander, Executor, General Officer, and Marshal, only after much consideration; as we would often be working in political environments wherein allying with one group means warring with another. Regardless, every township within our territory would have a guild office for potential recruits and requests.

In terms of recruits, there were no standards, essentially. We would accept everyone from the most wicked to the most innocent; the healthiest to those on death's door. If they must, the latter would be killed and raised as undead. Cripples and the mentally unstable could be healed, reformed, and rehabilitated before or even during their service. And the same was true for moral compasses and alignments.

Regardless, whether it be the guild or military, those who have made their pledge would be known as the Uninitiated. And so, the job of recruiters would be to ensure the Initiated were serious in their endeavors. For, once they finished the paperwork and made their pledge- without selling their souls- they would remain under the protection of the Legions until they shipped out to Eotrom.

Etan then spoke up, stating that their arrival to Mani would be met with a parade, of sorts, through the capital, where they would see the most recent graduates emerging from the Darkroom. Its end would serve as the handoff to the instructors. Thus marking the start of the Reception Phase.

The phase was split into nine nights. Though many of them took place over several days, though time alteration, those on the outside would see them remain in each place for only one.

It began with a psychological assessment dubbed, The March. The task was to complete 48 hours of movement across the soundless expanse of Mani's surface. No matter how much they paced themselves, each recruit would spend 48 hours traveling alone. There would be no conversing, they would not even be within visual range of one another, and they could use no magic or mana bolstering. Through isolation, loneliness, and perhaps a sense of despair, we instructors would learn of these recruits and be able to separate the strong from the weak.

After Night 1, they would enter the first world orbiting the Darkroom and begin Night 2, the Soul Screening. Though, it was stated that every subsequent phase would have them see eight hours of sleep with two hours of leisure between the fourteen hours of operation, besides three meals per day. This was to put them in a place of comfort before it was ripped out from beneath them when they entered the Darkroom. That, and to give them time to grow acquainted with their compatriots.

The Soul Screening itself lasted only 24 hours. The Uninitiated would meet some version of Amun to have their souls scanned, their spirits read, and their desires determined to tailor their promotions or benefits, measure which paths the recruits could take, and split them between the wicked and the altruistic.

Those deemed wicked or, at the very least, those who cared for experience and thrill rather than glory or heroic deeds were, by and large, already attuned to Amun's Twilight. But even if they were not, they would be stationed in such a place where they could act according to their beliefs. Whether that be on the surface or below ground, far away from the judgmental societies, they'd find themselves in a place that allowed them to live true to themselves, even while fulfilling their orders.

For those who were not wicked, they would be the ones to be seen roaming the fair societies that thrived in the light. Living out heroic deeds so the prying eyes of society would turn a blind eye to the darker adventures of the Legions.

Night 3 was the Administration Phase and was ten days long. They would receive their 'slim' uniforms- the same quilted garb, slacks, and polished loafers worn by the likes of a few among us. Functional as both a combat shirt and a dress uniform. Additionally, extensive measures would be taken to identity and track each legionary for the sake of accountability; fingerprints and eye scans, among a number of other mundane but necessary things.

Throughout all of this, they would endure lectures and briefings meant to prepare them for what was to come. They would learn discipline through marches and drills, study the rank structure and Legion hierarchy, and learn the chain of command. Simultaneously, the night was structured in such a way that any recruit with interests in the information, artificing, or engineering fields may get a first-hand glimpse at the day-to-day operations therein.

When done, Night 4 would consist of medical and dental Screenings. Using machines, magic, and in part, Amun's ki, the Uninitiated would be assessed for everything from previous injuries to genetic disorders and have their findings recorded and put on file. Similarly, those with an interest in witchcraft could study the art from afar during this phase.

The weaker debilitations and injuries were to be healed on the spot. Health problems that may flare up in old age were to be flagged and placed into a promotion package, to be granted if and when they rose to a certain rank. And with those crippled or otherwise debilitated by their injuries, they would be corrected through either surgery or magic.

The last things they would experience during these eight days of health screenings would be courses on anatomy and first aid, followed by a familiarization and final attunement with the various divine or celestial energies found within the Legions; not just those of Amun, but those of his Imperators, Primes, and Troupe.

Afterwards, they would move on to the Mental and Moral Screenings of Night 5. Through 24 hours of interviews and often trauma-inducing illusions, we sought to gauge their intellectual capacity and level; mental state or disposition; sanity, situational awareness, usage of common sense, and other mental aspects to determine the appropriate style of learning for the individual and establish which courses of study they should prioritize.

Once established, the nature of the illusions would change and another 24 hours would be set aside to analyze how each individual reacted to various types of stress, situations, or creatures.

Night 6 was a physical screening, and lasted a tenday. The Uninitiated would gain an understanding of their current strength by running obstacle courses and fighting undead shadows. During this time, they would also try out and eventually choose their favored fighting style and weapon type, and would be asked again and again to confirm their choice; as they will receive personalized training with that weapon during that very phase.

The nights moved on, with the 7th being a tenday magical screening. No matter the species, manipulation and molding capabilities were measured day after day through a variety of tests and exercises. And, of course, those with magical capabilities were as well. Through this, mana tolerance and fatigue limits were gauged, spell power was noted, and of course, they were given technical scrolls to realize the full potential of their abilities. Then, they were off to the 8th Night, Billeting.

Over the course of another tenday, the Uninitiated would receive their training gear and be measured for armor and dress uniforms. Furthermore, they would undergo extensive classes to learn how to use, maintain, and repair each piece of equipment.

Though the pieces they would train with would be props, the ones they would receive post-graduation would remain with them for the rest of their careers, as the Noxweave woven into each piece would be tied to their souls and grow alongside them through upgrades. But that didn't mean they were indestructible. Thus necessitating such a process. Even then, though, equipment damaged or destroyed because of negligence will be replaced or repaired at the cost of the legionary.

Additionally, they would learn of the many vessels found in the Legions arsenal and take some time over the next ten days to familiarize themselves with them. More so, their aptitude for artificing, alchemy, smithing, and various other crafts, including cooking, was tested.

Emerging into Night 9, they would have their occupations, weapons, gear, classes, and associated powers chosen. Thus they would begin with a final meal and proceed to stock up on provisions and equipment and rest before they meet the rest of their instructors in the afternoon and enter the Darkroom.

Much to my shock, Abbot Eiriol then stepped up, recommending a few changes be made to the Darkroom. Namely, that the Pages would no longer steal strength. With such large numbers that would only increase with time, the enemy would eventually become laughably weak, creating such fierce competition to increase strength that more important things, such as discipline, would be negated. Conversely, an immensely powerful enemy would make teamwork a necessity and increase despair. Which, for the first phase, was exactly what was needed. Not to mention, saving such things for later gave them another prerequisite for promotions and rewards.

We agreed that the rest of the training would more or less proceed as designed, with the War Phase followed by three months of magic and martial training and another three months of battle drills before the four-month crucible. The only other object of note was that when the Uninitiated stepped foot in the dark room, they become the Unranked and begin receiving a base pay of ten gold, five silver per week.

"At their stations, beyond the Darkroom, being promoted is an individual endeavor." Amun's diplomatic vassal-turned-ranger, Jaimess, then said abruptly. "Junior Legionaries must first be accepted by their comrades through whatever ritual, trial, or practice they deem fit. Then they must prove their knowledge of their unit's history, culture, and its hierarchal structure, from their squad up to the Imperator. Finally, they must show affluence for their job and the job of their superior. Only then will they be eligible for a promotion.

"After they have been recommended by one living legionary and one undead legionary of a higher rank outside of their direct chain of command, they are flagged for a promotion and will be scheduled to return here for the appropriate leadership training. After, they will be interviewed by a board of senior leaders, who will give the final approval or disapproval."

"And everything else, is essentially the same." Amun sighed in great satisfaction. "Everyone has the time and locale for the recall, yeah?"

"Yes." The stoic one called Toril nodded resolutely.

"Alright. I require all of you to train in the Darkroom with your subordinates."

"That is only fair." Jaimess quickly nodded, an off-putting excited gleam shining in his eye. "It wouldn't be right to lead those who'd gone through our rite of passage while we have not. And it'll serve as a means to move further down our paths."

"That's the spirit!" Amun grinned. "Rodin and the others from Hill Fortress will be training before you all, however. And these future instructors will be going before them."

"Hill... Fortress?" The Iron Magus' daughter, Roheisa, asked. "Not Hill Base?"

"Nah." Amun smirked in that boyish way of his. "You'll see why afterwards. For now, we rendezvous and hand out rewards before you begin your training. You and those with you will be renowned across all the Legions as its founding members. Primes, triply blessed as a reward for being the first official class. Those who come before the end of the year will be blessed doubly so, and those who graduate at the end of the year will be singly blessed. After that, anyone who joins will start at the lowest rank, though they should be quite seasoned by the time we attend the Guild Master Course in a year and a half. That's the plan, at least.

"Regardless, these blessings can be of any domain or ability you chose," Amun told them with a wagging finger. "That includes becoming augmented, and that includes becoming Paragons, among every other thing. Once you become warlocks, those in your Legions and corps will develop the same powers. Three of your choosing. So, make sure you pass that along and think long about what you wish to become."

With the meeting adjourned, Etan took me, Abbot Eiriol and the thousands of monks deeper inside his world to meet the most unbelievable creature. A gargantuan sphinx of obsidian fur and onyx hair, gazing down on us with eyes as vibrant as the realm seen in the sky of this cruel world.

As quickly as we saw him, however, we were returned to that verdant surface of that mana-less world. Alone, naked, and in a cruelly unforgiving environment. And though a voice rang out to us from all directions, it was not one that belonged to that divine creature.

He- Etan spoke to me in ways that had me see where I could be with a little more hard work. And not just me, all of us. Just like the wicked and altruistic alike had a place in the Legions, we Nebulous Monks had our own roles and positions within the Noctis Halls of Excellency. And like them, we would have to earn it.

Abbot Eiriol would have to earn her throne as the Halls' Overseer by testing herself on this cruel world. As did Antton with the Non-Commissioned Officer Course; Aldo with the Officer Candidacy Course; and Javrith, Sid, Nijal, and Sorn with the Field, Staff, Civil, and General Officer courses. And me, if I was to become the Darkroom's Head Administrator.

I accepted readily.

Though I still had my elven senses and agility, I had no magic or perks to rely on. And so it was. I lived on that timeless world of death, wandering in search of water. Finding water. Then having the brown slides cause dehydration. And so it was. I died and learned the folly of my mistakes upon my rebirth. Then I was sent to a different part of that feral world to try again.

With the means to find water came the means to build shelter. From that came the means to forage, build tools, hunt, cultivate, domesticate, construct; to engineer, to defend and consequently attack. Timelessly so.

So it happened that each and every drow to have trained in Nydorden Halls lived countless lifetimes on the surface of Etan's world in the blink of an eye. So it was, each of us was tested on the world of Woe and stood before that divine beast before we entered the fabled darkroom for our ultimate test.

Throughout my time there, I could not help but recount the monotony of our lives in Zimysta while Etan was here, not only being tested in this realm of excellence but helping to create it. Now, we were here, being tested after being tested so that we may return and gear these things toward perfection. The challenge placed on us in the Darkroom was similar to those on Woe. Yet the process was entirely different.

Ordered, detailed, and, in ways, invasive. The regard Amun had for his legionaries was laid bare through the knowledge he gained of them- of us. The sound of our voices, the ways we walked, the prints and marks on our hands and eyes; even our teeth. Every aspect of our bodies was recorded and subsequently addressed to render them perfect. Then the same process ensued for our minds, spirits, and souls.

Then, blessed with the arms and gear of these Legions of Legends, we were thrust into the depths of hell. Three months of near constant war. Waves upon waves of powerful enemies, armed with weapons we couldn't imagine. Our rest periods, in turn, were filled with studies of war and survival. The only food to be found was spoiled or bug-infested, and the only water accessible was pestilential. The perfect conditions to, as Amun would say, 'break them down and reconstruct them into something unbreakable.' Not reconstructed in the sense of a building. Reconstructed in mind and spirit through three months of perfecting the crafts and three more months of mastering the art of war. And in a final, four-month phase, that mastery was tested rigorously.

Little needed to be changed in that regard. Only unbounded freedom was to be granted during the training phases and rewards were to be set in place for various feats or locations being accomplished or discovered. Most of the changes regarded our end. Our newfound ability to create numerous clones allowed us to fill the roles of instructors, observers, and proctors to an insane degree.

And not just in the Darkroom; my domain, but in the whole of Eotrom as well.