
GM JC Spooks |

You currently stand in the main hall of the Graymaw family, the undisputed rulers of Sermosa City their home matches their position. High ceilings are lit by open torches that run along the walls around you, framing massive stained glass windows that depict the various achievements of the Graymaws long lineage. Before you is Bremont Graymaw the current head of the Greymaw family. He is a noble looking man who appears to be in his mid 40s wearing flowing cloak emblazoned with his family crest dyed the colors of Sermosa. He has long, dark black hair pulled into a tight pony tail. His hair runs down his face creating a neatly trimmed beard and mustache combo. Two dull silver eyes stare out from his face, seeming to endlessly scrutinize all those in his sight.
You stand amongst seven others like yourself. Clothing has been removed to reveal your torsos as you wait attentively. Deciding that the time is right, Bremont speaks "You have all been asked here because you have proven yourself worthy to stand amongst the ranks of the worlds greatest heroes. Monsters strive to consume all that we know, but you have chosen to stand your ground against them. You have all chosen to fight what is the most difficult of battles, the one for survival." He steps down towards you, stopping at a fire that had been started specifically for the ceremony. Eight rods sit exposed to the fire, their tips glowing white with a wicked heat. "But there is something more. The creatures you will face are tenfold stronger than any man, and they outnumber us a hundred to one. To fight them is madness, to wish for death. You realize this, and still you fight. You are all young men and women of strong body and sound mind, why would you through your lives away?" He grabs a single rod from the fire and holds it up, letting you all bear witness to the waves of heat radiating of the tip. "You risk everything for survival. To protect innocent blood from being spilled. Family and friends, young and old, all of them would be swept away in the face of the hordes. So you stand, and you fight. You choose to die so that others may live. When I call your name, step forth! Feel the pain as I brand you with the mark of the hunter! Know that this is the pain you bare so that others may survive!"

Khantos Graymaw |
When his name is called Khantos steps forward. At just under 6 feet tall, Bremont towers above him. His exposed back and chest reveal intricate tribal tattoos that run across his flesh. His dull silver eyes lock with Bremonts as he stands completely motionless, waiting for his initiation as a Hunter.
Unspeaking, Bremont lifts one of the the burning rods and pushes it into the bare flesh of Khantos, just below the collarbone. Matching his relative, not a single sound escapes Khantos other than the searing of flesh. He remains completely still, eyes continuously locked with Bremonts. Only the beads of sweat that roll down his neck betray any reaction to his burning skin. When the mark of the hunter had finally been made upon his person, Khantos steps back into the ranks of the other initiates.

Gallus Lorde |

Gallus steps forward as his name is called. He strides dutifully to the center of the room where Bremont is standing. Hands clasped behind his back he bears his chest as Bremont lifts a glowing rod to it. Gallus can feel the burning heat far before the rod even touches him. He looks into Bremont's eyes as the rod is pressed into his torso. Cold. Hot. Pain. It flashes through Gallus instantly. He can feel as his grip instinctively tightens and a vain bulges from his neck as he bears the pain. He refuses to call out though, knowing it will only last a moment. Finally it is done and Gallus' arms relax slightly as he strides back into rank. He can feel his knee stiffening slightly as he does so; he smirks slightly to himself. "It's decided; I'm not checking in often, this was far too dull."

GM JC Spooks |

Once all eight of the initiates have received their brands, Bremont speaks yet again: "And with that the ceremony is complete, now in the eyes of all you are true hunters. However, if I may entreat you all to stay a moment longer."
He paces back to his thrown and takes a seat, his face transforming from that of a stern warrior to that of a tired leader. "As you all should know the apex of the Blood Moon is not even two weeks passed. Yesterday a messenger from the front arrived. They tell me that our forces have been devastated. The line has been shattered and now the beasts run rampant through the north. I have not revealed this news to the rest of Sermosa yet, though I plan to do so later today. I expect that afterwards the news of our defeat will spread like wildfire through the rest of the region . In light of that I plan to meet with the other Guild leader within the month on the matter of raising an army with aim to drive back the horde."
"I tell you all this because you have all decided to take upon yourselves the responsibility of humanities defense. As such, though I will make no commands that you do so, know that you are the ones who will fight this war from now onward. There will be no one else, and a time may come where all of our lives hang by your decisions. Just something to keep in mind."
With that he dismisses the group, motioning a nearby crowd of attendants to himself. Apparently he has a good deal of business to see to.
342 days

Gallus Lorde |

After the ceremony has ended Gallus strides off to the Mercsnts Guild in order to see about hiring a small wagon to travel back with him to Iron Dale. He pays for all the associated fees himself, as well as checks to see if there are any other traders wishing to come along.