mickilennial — Roleplayer Guild

Location: Haven Academy, Mistral

It didn’t take long for the proceedings to begin.

And by proceedings, generally it meant the Headmaster being cold to pretty much everyone in attendance. Though, this was not uncommon. Goldi Lockhart had a reputation long before she was tasked with overseeing the next generation of Huntsman and Huntresses. As far as the blonde-haired thirty-year-old was concerned the last thirteen months had been a demotion. She wanted to be in the field. Hunting Grimm. Fighting criminals. She had come a long way from the little girl in Argus. But responsibilities were responsibilities and Goldi took those things seriously.

“Look at them. All of them.”

“The students, m'am?”

“No. Pretenders.” The blonde looked over to her assistant with a glare, remembering how many times she had fought the formalities. 

“Posture is all wrong. That one could be knocked over by the wind. It’s… they won’t survive in the trials.” She sighed, although remaining as stoic as she could as she stood arms-crossed eyeing the crowds that were coming into the great hall. “Hm. Well, looks can be deceiving, I guess. Sorry. Talking to myself. Again. I suppose I should get this thing ready and we can talk about tomorrow later.”
...

In a few minutes all of the prospective recruits had been ushered into the grand hall while the second and third year students had already moved forward to their respective classes. Headmaster Lockhart stood in the center stage with her assistant standing by. 

“Welcome to Haven Academy.”

The blonde huntress adjusted the collar of her jacket as her eyes scrawled across the room. She saw familiar faces from Sanctum, the largest combat school in the region. Some were notable faces, others not so notable. There were some she remembered the dossiers stated were from out-of-state. Interesting to crawl so far away to get a chance at becoming a Huntress. How many times would they have to fail to find their footing… or know their place? It was a question. She had been the outsider once, thrown against the wind expecting to fail. She could relate to the drive to prove everyone wrong about what her purpose was in life. Those with the most wrinkles tended to fight the hardest, even if it did come with a price. She looked intensely at the red-haired outsider, a little longer than she had silent observed any other student. You’d have to be paying attention to notice. 

“My name is Goldi Lockhart and I am the headmaster here at this academy. My job is to make sure you’re good enough to be one of us. The job you want us to instruct you in is hard. Dangerous. There are tons of threats, both unseen and seen.”

She thought to the consequences. A idle memory of her own trial in the academy some decade-and-a-half ago.

“I was in your position once.” She stated, as if emphasizing this part of her little speech prominently. “Everyone expected me to fail. A fragile girl surrounded by Grimm. But I survived. The trials at Haven Academy have not changed in their exuberance and toughness. You might die tonight and I will have to write a letter to your guardian expressing my sympathies about your fate. I don’t want that to happen, but it will probably happen. You’re all weak. Fragile.”

A light smile. Slightly warm.

“In Argus we have a saying. The result justifies the deed.” She chuckled, “It’s stupid. But, it is what it is. The best of us are tempered by the fight. Some are just suited for survival. I just hope I don’t have to bury too many of you come dawn.”

Her hands moved from her arms, digging into the podium itself. 

“In your pamphlet, or whatever, there is an identification card good for tonight and tonight only at a hotel called The Celestial Swan. You will head there, representing Haven Academy; representing The Kingdom of Mistral. Your first trial is your patience. You will stay within the walls of this establishment until sunfall, of which,” Headmaster Lockhart motioned to her assistant, a woman with purple hair and amber eyes, “Miss Sang will be there to collect you and you will be taken to our hunting grounds.”

It sounded more complicated than it needed to be, but tradition was tradition and Mistral liked tradition more than Atlas liked airships. She heard other academies held their recruits in barns, which sounded a whole lot simpler (and less expensive!) than a stay at one of the better hotels across the way. That aside, Goldi didn’t mind too much, it allowed her to do a bit more reading on this year’s group of recruits and see how they’d react. She had a particular Argus-style way to kick off the night in mind. 

“Then… well, the proof is in the pudding.”

After a full minute of silence and confusion she blinked. “What are you doing? That’s it. That’s the whole bit. Go to the hotel and follow orders!”
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The Elder Fae

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