[color=thistle][h3]Brida Aiolfi[/h3][/color][hr][sup]Inside the Grand Hotel Mohad, Avent City  |  3:27 PM[/sup]

“Your luggage, Madam?” a porter asked, hurrying over as Brida exited the car. Hesitating briefly — Brida made a point to not trust anyone, least of all strangers who looked well put-together — Brida nodded, passing over the handle to her suitcase. The porter quickly thanked Brida and disappeared into a side door, not even giving the girl a chance to ask when she’d get her luggage back. 

[i]Not that there’s much of value in there, but I’d prefer to have a clean change of clothes at the ready,[/i] Brida thought, frowning and turning back to the guide she’d met in the airport. The suited man had led her to a comfy limousine, which had brought her to the exam site — the Grand Hotel Mohad.

“Right this way, Miss Aiolfi,” the guide said, holding the door open for the purple-haired girl as she entered the large, glass double-doors of the Grand Motel Mohad. Inside, ornate architectural designs were expertly balanced with modern curves and edges, creating an intricately and tightly woven modern take on traditional designs of what Brida assumed were the Burial Sands. 

[i]And the exhibits are excavated relics, I’m guessing,[/i] Brida thought as the steward lead her through across the main lobby. [i]Their intrinsic value is far below the value set by collectors and enthusiasts. I’d guess any one of these artifacts would sell for a few million at least — assuming that they’re not doubles, of course.[/i]

“VIP access card,” the guide said, flashing his badge to the receptionist who’d looked up at the pair’s approach. “Brida Aiolfi.” The receptionist nodded, looking back down. “Through there, Miss,” the guide said, motioning towards a pair of doors beside the main desk. “Just show them your access card.”

“Thank you for your guidance,” Brida told the guard curtly before turning and heading towards the doors. 

Behind the doors stood a hallway and an elevator door with a pair of rather muscular men in suits standing guard, which didn’t so much surprise Brida as intrigue her as she walked towards the elevator. The hallway possessed a minimalistic black-and-white design and was devoid of anything but the men and the elevator. [i]The 101st floor is where the Hunter Exam is to take place, so… [/i]

“Brida Aiolfi. Here’s my VIP access card,” Brida said, holding the card out to the guards. Neither of them moved, which Brida pause. Just as the girl opened her mouth to repeat the words, a ding sounded, and the elevator doors opened. 

“Please enter,” the guard on the left said, and Brida complied. 

The elevator ride was a quiet affair, and Brida was greeted on the 101st floor by an identical pair of guards who informed her that she was to turn over all items that might be used as weapons. Off came the dagger, knife, and small pistol she carried — Brida figured that there was no reason to test disqualification for a mere weapon — and, after a proper pat down, a black-and-white dressed man approached.

[i]A butler?[/i] Brida thought, scanning over the man’s outfit. He motioned for her to turn around, pinning a badge onto her back when she did so.

“Number ninety-seven,” he said loudly, and the doors behind him opened into an extravagant room with a stage upon which dancers twirled and pranced. Brida stepped into the hall, taking in the cloth-covered tables around which chairs were placed in sets of five. Some of the seats were already occupied — [i]96 examinees already arrived, then[/i] — and waiters hovered around the seated individuals, taking orders and bringing forth silver platters of delicately arranged food.

[i]It’s all free of charge,[/i] Brida realized, taking in a rather haphazardly-stacked table where a man appeared to be taking full advantage of the amenities. [i]I suppose that’s only to be expected.[/i]

Heading up the stairs, Brida took a seat at an empty table on the second story, figuring that the first floor was too conspicuous, whereas the third and fourth were too far from the stage. A waiter immediately hurried to her side, inquiring about an order.

“A dry gin martini would be lovely,” Brida said, offering the waiter a smile. “Shaken with an olive.”

“Right away, Miss,” the waiter said, nodding and heading away. After the waiter was out of sight, Brida frowned, picking up her salad fork and examining it in the dim lighting — authentic silver. 

[i]Classy place,[/i] Brida thought, sighing as she set the utensil back in its place. [i]Sadly, I lost my appetite on the flight. I’m sure the food here is excellent as well.[/i]

Glancing around, the girl saw that, while many tables seated singles, a few also seated doubles or triples — alliances and bonds already made, or in the making. Figuring that she’d do well to do the same, Brida scanned the restaurant floor for wanders — nothing of interest, really — before fixing her eyes on the dancers onstage.

[i]There are three elevators, evenly spaced on each side of the room with the stage on the fourth,[/i] the girl thought, watching the doors out of the corner of her eye. She sat above the eastern elevator, obscuring it from her sight, but she had a good view of the southern and western ones. The waiter delivered her martini — earning the man another thanks — and Brida settled in, sipping the barely opaque glass with a hint of satisfaction. A martini was an excellent perk-up drink, especially for the niceties to come.

[hr][sup]The 101st floor of the Grand Hotel Mohad, Avent City  |  4:57 PM[/sup]

A little over an hour later — guesswork on Brida’s part, having handed over her watch that doubled as a small knife — Brida spotted an interesting figure that piqued her interest. It was a tall, pale woman around six foot or so dressed in a dark, gothic-style outfit, but what drew Brida’s attention was not the woman’s skin or clothes but rather her features. Scarlet scales crept around the woman’s shoulder blades, disappearing down her top and reemerging at her arms. Her hands, rather than gloved, were coated by the same red scales that flowed into a pair of fingerless black gloves that tipped with sharp claws. A pair of thin swords — katanas — were strapped onto her back, reaffirming Brida’s suspicions with their dragon scale hilts.

[i]A Draconian?[/i] Brida thought, watching with fascination. Her brother had once sought a Draconian blade, which had left Brida with amused disbelief until he’d actually found one, bought from a nameless peddler that was said to have scoured the world for treasures to sell. The sword had come at an exorbitant price — the peddler would take no less than seven zeroes — but the steel-rending blade was worth it, cutting through concrete pillars with ease. The sword, according to her brother, was a masterpiece from one of the most notable Draconian swordsmiths, thus justifying the price. The sight of the ornate dragon scale hilt had sent Brida scouring for answers, but she’d found few other than that the Draconians were a peaceful, isolated race, and that they themselves grew scales like dragons of myths, sometimes even possessing wings. 

[i]The Hunter Exam does attract all sorts of folk,[/i] Brida thought, turning back to the stage. She was long through her martini, but she didn’t quite feel the need to chase after allies yet. From watching the scene, it seemed like most applicants were either experienced examinees who already knew who to sit with or completely new like Brida herself, which meant that grouping together didn’t quite add up to a passing contestant and was therefore unnecessary.

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