[indent][color=eedc82][h3][b][u]    L O R R A L        [/u][/b][/h3][indent][indent][sup]The Town of Garen's Well[/sup][/indent][/indent][/color][/indent]
It was the perfect evening for a disaster.

The menacing clouds had opened up in the early afternoon with a downpour of a torrential scale, a gloomy shadow that engulfed the small town of Garen's Well. For hours it rained, soaking the ground until the dry dirt turned into a sticky, sloppy slosh of mud and clay. Many of the locals had scurried back indoors to the safe comfort of their warm homes, holding little desire to stay out in the wet to catch an illness. It was not a pleasant evening and yet amongst this depressive mess was the sight of a fiery blade, the orange glow of a cleaver known as the Solar Lily.

Each step, each bound, landed with a force that would erupt with clumps of damp debris. The soil was sticking to the girls boots as she repeatedly lifted her feet away from the earth below. Lorral was just beyond the shelter of town's only tavern and yet she was already soaked to the core; it was the least of her concerns. What was more important was the ringing of the tower bells, a siren of help that bellowed through the violent storm.

[color=eedc82]"What are the ringing bells for?"[/color] she had asked the tavern barkeeper only a handful of minutes earlier.

[color=828992]"They are from lookouts. People who have spotted a Grimm closing in."[/color]

Those simple words triggered a response of fight or flight, a mechanism deeply ingrained within one's own instincts. It had been fortunate that Lorral's time at Beacon Academy had trained her to respond more often with the former, as opposed to the self saving nature of the later, and so she ran. She did not run away—no—she ran towards danger and possible death, throwing caution to the wind in an effort to come to the aid of those that may be in need.[indent][color=eedc82][h3][u]				[/u][/h3][indent][indent][sup]Five Days Prior[/sup][/indent][/indent][/color][/indent]
[indent][indent][color=cccccc]Lorral pushed open the steel door, partly entering into the open room, partly holding back until she was given permission to step forth. She could see a grand office table that stretched across her entire field of view, a design that felt impracticable given the amount of bench space that it offered.

[color=00FF7F]"Ah yes come in,"[/color] the male voice was faintly heard from the far side of the table, a distince sound from face that looked up to see his new, young guest. [color=00FF7F]"Take a seat wont you. Please, I insist."[/color]

The student stepped forward, confident in her steps but at the same time filled with an uneasy nervous sensation. She gazed upon the man that was in charge of both the construction of the academy, and the one that they called Headmaster Prime. Dark green hair and a vibrant set of eyes, hidden behind a set of black rimmed glasses. He did not look much older than his late twenties and yet his personal vibe presented itself with a level of authority, superiority, and pride.

[color=eedc82]"Hello headmaster, you asked to see me?"[/color] Lorral's words slipped out of her mouth as she settled down into the seat that the headmaster had offered her, noticing that he was still currently invested with the documents scattered across his desk.

[color=00FF7F]"That I did, and so how do you feel about your progress?"[/color] He turned to look at her, noticing her slight level of confusion. She was about to answer when he quickly cut her off after realising his mistake. [color=00FF7F]"In becoming a huntress at Beacon that is? I am sorry. I always have a nasty habit of half asking a question without giving it complete context."[/color] He left a pause, looking over the edge of his glasses as he waited for her response, [color=00FF7F]"So... your progress?"[/color]

The repeat of the question snapped Lorral back into reality of which she responded with a short, and direct, [color=eedc82]"Ah! Yes. Well... I'm doing well."[/color]

[color=00FF7F]"Only well?"[/color] The man's smile beamed brightly knowing full well that her subtitles were best left for another conversation. [color=00FF7F]"I see... [i]Well[/i], there's no need to be so humble about your achievements. It is quite known that your grades are of a fairly high standard, and that is why we are in need your help. You see, we have a situation up North on the Island of Vytal where communication with the locals have stopped completely. We need you to investigate and retrieve some important relics. It may be dangerous with the Creatures of Grimm being left unchecked since The Great War, but do you believe you can you do this for us?"[/color]

Lorral sat there stunned, not really knowing what to make of the request. It was quite sudden and went against the much desired thoughts of going home during the break to help protect her village, but the taste for adventure was in her lap, within her grasps, and she just could not say no. Looking at the headmaster the student gave a firm nod and a smile, just enough enthusiasm to show that she was dedicating herself to this challenge.

[color=00FF7F]"Excellent!"[/color] The headmaster beamed with joy at the sign of one of his students taking up the cause,[color=00FF7F]"Now you won't be going alone as supposedly each academy has been asked to send two of their finest and meet at Garen's Well for further instructions. So for the second I am leaning towards a young man by the name of Voyd Tyrian. From what I hear he has had a rough past but I do believe he will be an asset on this journey. If you happen to see him could you send him my way? We have so much to discuss."[/color][/color][/indent][/indent][indent][color=eedc82][h3][u]				[/u][/h3][indent][indent][sup]Present Evening[/sup][/indent][/indent][/color][/indent]
A deep sludge channel was carved as Lorral's boots dug into the ground, bringing the future huntress to a much needed stop. The rain hissed with a steamy scream as it touched the blade's hot edge, a mist of fury that gave the Solar Lily emotion of anger and rage. Lorral nested herself by the edge of one of the buildings, water dripping from her wet hair, ready to peer around and scout her first sight of the Grimm in question. With her free hand pressed up against the stone wall she poked her vision around the corner to look at the dreaded demon.

[color=eedc82]"There it is!"[/color] she whispered under her panting breath, exhaling light clouds of fog into the cold air.

The Grimm was ten, maybe twelve foot tall, and as black as the night that the town was being plunged into. The chitinous chest plate and skull of this two legged beast reflected with a ghostly white from the dim lights of the street lamps but what caught Lorral's attention was the two legged nature of this monster, that it stood proud and tall like a malevolent god judging its unworthy minions. The girl watched cautiously, deciding the best course of action as it stomped its way through the town square looking for innocent people to pursue and slaughter. Lorral had hoped that there was at least some leeway time to find and meet with the others, but not every new encounter was designed to go so smoothly.