Well, here he was. On the outside, Jerry was grinning, seemingly with excitement as he stared at the entryway to... whatever the future held. Inside, he was trembling. Of course, the solution for all of this was to gather his wits with a good wobbling whistle as he slowly pressed forward, but it didn't stop his palms from sweating.

What was he afraid of, really? It was just... fetching equipment. How did one know when one was ready, anyway? His new friend Jude seemed confident at least... well, mostly confident. Confident that it was what needed to be done.

A new weapon meant it was time to jump into battle. From all he'd heard of their training exercise, he really wondered if it would have been best if he sat this out until he could train more, it would be their fist mission but...

Hadn't the entire ordeal with the gasmasks been training? There was no telling what they would be doing.

He drew in a sharp breath, hands balling into fists. There was nothing more to it but to make sure he was prepared.

The bespectacled man wasn't sure what he was expecting, perhaps a large cavern heaped with swords and guns and ninja stars... not... what appeared to be a smallish room filled with small glowing tiles.

"Choose your weapon" he had been told, in so many words. But what... did that have to do with little tablets? Despite the fantastical things he had witnessed over the years, monsters in the shadows, creeping things in the dark, ultimately he felt there had to be some sort of logical explanation for everything... Magic or Unexplained Supernatural had not necessarily crossed his mind. Granted, up until he had faced an enormous thundering monster of a horse, he had always assumed it was his own madness.

Well... this was just the next step in understanding, right? Right. Carefully, he wandered among the symbols, taking each in and touching one or two, but nothing seemed to happen. Where they supposed to take one and just walk out?

No, he remembered something about... The weapons choosing YOU. Huh. Well. He started touching whichever one he could, poking them as though they were mysterious buttons to be pressed, but nothing so far.

This might take a while.

He had rounded about from one wall, already feeling weary, when a faint sound finally separated itself from the nervous humming he hadn't even noticed his whistle had degraded into.

He quieted. It... it was faint still, he wasn't sure what he was hearing, but as he stepped across the room, it grew more distinct. It was... a howl? Not quite like a wolf's howl... not quite like the howl of the wind... just... an echoing sort of resonating that was fascinating, growing louder, more forceful with each step. He piked up the tablet the noise seemed to be coming from, wincing as he did, but froze as suddenly the howl faded, replaced by a voice.

s**t, I flushed less pathetic lookin' scrapings than you.

Jerry blinked. "Er... what?" He managed weakly, "Hello?"

Don't worry, man. You're in good hands. No one'll be flushin' this turd. He could hear the smirk in the voice.

There was a flash of green light, Jerry's eyes screaming at the sudden burst as the tile in his hands instantly expanded into...

"Oh! Oh, my!"

My name is Roarshack, son of Roarcastle. I can tell this is going to be interesting.