<div class="floatleft">(http://wakemeup-film.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/lavr-e1488974671385.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://SCHOOL CREST URL)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>NAME:</strong> Nikolai Maximovich<br/><strong>OCCUPATION:</strong> Durmstrang Headmaster<br/><strong>BLOOD STATUS:</strong> PUREBLOOD<br/><strong>WAND:</strong> 11in | Ash | Dragon Heartstring<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong> Durmstrang Uniform, in reverse colors<br/><strong>DATE | TIME:</strong> September 2nd, Dinner Time<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong> Durmstrang Dining Hall<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong> Welcome Speech<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong> All of Durmstrang</td></tr></tbody></table><br/><hr/><br/>Amidst the hushed tones of the returning and newly welcomed students, the sudden and harsh clacking of hard soled boots brought the room to a sudden and respectful silence.  As the footsteps drew closer, a tension filled the room, a preparedness of practice in older students and in careful coaching in those just welcomed, so that the moment the figure of the Headmaster entered the Great Dining Hall, everyone present came to stand rigidly tall, all in unison.  It was not often that students found themselves in the presence of the Headmaster.  Unlike other schools, he did not attend meals at the head table, nor did he often appear in classes.  Much of Durmstrang’s continued military-esque bearing was of Headmaster Maximovich’s doing, and a general rarely fraternized with his troops.<br/><br/>Dressed in the same uniform as his students, but with the colors reversed so that his only bit of color was a blood red stripe across the sable field of the rest of him, the Headmaster did not present an imposing figure.  Of medium height and build, with his closely and precisely trimmed greyish white beard and hair, he was a man one might pass on any street in any northern European city and not think twice, and certainly not think you had passed one of the most powerful wizards of his generation.  That was until you took one look into the dark intensity of his gaze, a gaze that turned to the still standing collective of students and Staff before him as he took his place at the podium.<br/><br/>Gripping the dark, lacquered wood emblazoned in the front with a slightly glowing symbol of the school, the Headmaster let the silence hold for a few more seconds before he spoke.  “Men and Women of Durmstrang.”  He began, rarely using the word students in his speech, for Maximovich thought of this place as more than just as school.  “Another year before us.  Some faces are new, and to you, I say welcome.  Much will be expected of you here.  All that you have to give, and more.  Whatever you were when you walked through those gates, you are now Durmstrang.  Of Durmstrang.  For Durmstrang.  As you will find hardship, so will you find strength in that.  Strength you did not even know you possessed.” Turning from the table where the new students stood in proud but untrained attention, the Headmaster nodded slightly to the other tables.<br/><br/>“Before you, you see the products of this school.  Women and men who have lived and succeeded here, for some time.  You will show them the respect the have earned, but only as you strive to earn the same for yourself.  To do as they have….or better.  For that is the way of Durmstrang, to always do more, to do BETTER.”  Slamming his fist against the podium, Maximovich stared across the sea of young faces, and a slight smile, rare and cold as a diamond, flitted across his face.  “This year, we have an opportunity to do so in a way that has not been seen in many years.  As some of you may know, the English Minister has called for a tournament.  For THE Tournament.  The TriWizard Tournament.”<br/><br/>At his words, even the famed discipline of Durmstrang broke as whispers of excitement broke out amongst those students who had not heard, or thought the rumor foolishness.  Letting the whispers, and the excitement, build for just a few seconds, it was with the barest shift of his body that the Headmaster brought the room to silence once more.  “Durmstrang will answer this invitation.  In one month’s time, the best among us shall travel south, there we shall display the full mettle of OUR Durmstrang.  This time, there will be no tricks, no extra Champions, there will only be awe as the world sees what we have grown to become!”  Clapping his other hand to the wood, that smile returned once again, this time lingering.<br/><br/>“So, tonight, we dine.  No, we feast.” With a wave his of hand, tall bright flames burst from the top of the halls columns, instantly filling the hall with light and warmth not felt in years.  “Tonight we build our strength, for starting on the morrow, we prepare.  Harder than ever before, for when this Tournament ends, it is Durmstrang who will return home in victory.”<br/><br/>With one last look around the room, the Headmaster nodded to his Staff, as food appeared at every table.<br/><br/>“As you were.”<br/>