Brida Aiolfi
Inside the Grand Hotel Mohad, Avent City
That tall, pale woman at the bar was the bunter leading the first round of exams hadn’t surprised Brida; the woman’s confidence alone singled her out as someone who was used to both seeing and wielding power beyond that of those around her. The man on the other side of the bar had been strange too, and he moved with the similar confidence as the woman he was tending to, though muted. However, the man didn’t claim the same authority as the ghostly woman did, and so Brida noted him down and shelved the thought as she listened to the woman.
Idiot, Brida thought, turning away from the tattooed man who had loudly protested the pale woman’s authority. If nothing else, he should see that — by her confidence alone — she’s strong. Perhaps well-versed in deception rather than in physical strength, but that’s hard-earned as well.
The ensuing squabble Brida chose to sit out on, figuring that the free pass — while tantalizing — wasn’t worth the effort it took to jump the bar to the first story of the restaurant, beat out all the other desperate contestants gathered, and deliver the badge to the pale woman. It was too much publicity for Brida’s tastes, and she had finally managed to flag down a second martini.
The exam itself, as explained by the pale woman, was the type of battle royale that Brida expected from the Hunter Exam, serving to both weed out weaker contestants and allow the stronger to establish themselves within the ranks. Lone wolf, or pack leader? Head low, or teeth gritted? Brida was used to both of the former, but — looking around — she figured that she’d probably have to step down from her platform for this exam. There were many proud spirits in the restaurant tonight, and the most she would be able to get out of them easily would be some sort of joint leadership, if not vague teamwork.
Brida’s martini arrived sometime in the middle of the woman’s explanation, and Brida only turned to it after the pale woman had finished talking. Picking it up off the table, Brida was in the middle of giving the people near her a final sweep when the sound of a heavy glass being set down on her table alerted her to someone’s arrival. While her face had been casually blank as he sat, the man’s words — especially his condescension — had prompted her into narrowing her eyes. However, the man held himself well, and Brida decided to trust her gut and play along. Many men had tried making moves on her in the past, and although she didn’t like entertaining them, she was used to it as well. Such was politics and business.
“I’m flattered,” Brida said, holding her martini to the side as she reached a hand across the table. She decided not to mention the man’s strange selection, pegging it as a nostalgic choice, or just his sweet tooth — although there were better choices for the latter. “Brida.”
Even the vaguest teammates needed something to address each other by, and since Brida didn’t feel that her number was the right tag to assign to herself — the chance that there would be some test that used the contestant’s numbers as their names was high — she figured that names would work well. Sitting back down, Brida brought her glass to her mouth and swept her eyes around the room again. A team of three would be favorable in this scenario, especially since there were no loyalties. The strong would survive, and the weak could be cut.
“Would you mind a trio?” she asked, meeting eyes with draconian woman she’d spotted before. She raised her glass, a small but clear motion. “The draconian — she’s seen battle before. Although she might not join us, it seems.”
Looking away from the draconian and the light-haired woman sitting beside her, Brida finally took a sip of her martini. The gin bit, but the vermouth softened it. “I don’t suppose you have an idea as to who the first badge comes from?”
@Rai @Demous
