<strong>Location::</strong>Dining Hall<br/><strong>Date/Time::</strong>Friday August 3rd, 2pm<br/>From the perspective of Headmaster Laplace<br/><br/><hr/><br/>"Welcome, young witches and wizards, warriors and craftsmen, merchants, adventurers, and nobles. It is with great honor that I stand here today, in my 57th year as headmaster and my 78th year alongside the faculty. I'm sure many of you first years are now wondering how a human appearing so young can hold such a tenure, and perhaps within your time here you will find such secrets on your own. But first, a toast before my yearly speech, to the prosperity of our sacred academy, and to the glorious minds that have gathered here today."<br/><br/>A youthful looking man stood before the throng of seated students that swelled the dining hall, his position at the center of the massive faculty table indicating that he in fact held the highest position within the academy. He grasped the silver goblet on the table in front of him and raised it briefly, then took a sip of the delicious red wine inside it, wetting his throat in anticipation of the long speech ahead of him. While a deep plum purple flat cap disguised the top of his head, the long sun-blonde locks that billowed down around his slightly rounded face and flowed behind an equally purple cloak spoke of a man who had seemingly transcended time at some point in his career. His rose-tinted cheeks were stretched slightly by his smile, and while the rest of his face had escaped aging, a marked set of wrinkles lined the corners of stark sterling eyes that seemed to hide wisdom from ages even before his supposed birth. Abraxis Laplace, one of the small count of mages on the continent capable of leveling any one of the lands surrounding the academy, and the strongest of the six currently in attendance in row with him at the upper grand table, spoke with a prideful tone as he looked over the minds he hoped to nourish throughout the scholastic year.<br/><br/>"And now, a moment of your attention. First, I wish to touch upon the mounting tensions between the countries that fund this institution. It is not an unusual thing for me to remind certain groups that their social standing and homeland hold no meaning here; that this is neutral territory for those who seek knowledge of the highest order and quality. Though your title may be different once you finish your studies, you all share one rank within the walls of this town; that of student, and the allegiance of your skills is sworn to protect the school, as we staff are sworn to protect all of you." The headmaster gestured grandly toward the students below him, his arms moving akin to embracing the young adults as a whole. "No war shall come to this academy, nor come from within if you wish to graduate. Set aside your differences, and expand each other's learning.<br/><br/>Next, this year marks the 260th Academic Tournament. I will, of course, go into more detail as the date approaches, and the 7th and 8th years I'm sure are happy to explain on my behalf for those of insurmountable curiosity. As always, the tournament will be divided by year, the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd years competing together, as will the 4th through 6th years, and the 7th and 8th years will challenge each other on the highest levels of skill and knowledge. While the various duels may be the most known and highly advertised portion of the tournament, there are also tests of skill, speed, precision, and other virtues of both magic and swordcraft, as well as practical displays and knowledge tests, all of which are viewed by prominent figures in their respective fields. To do well in the tournament is to secure your future careers, to gather renown and the eyes of the people who will help your profession most."<br/><br/>Abraxis thought fondly back on his time as a student so many years prior, having been included in the tournament in his 1st, 4th, and 7th years. At the time, he had set aside his differences with his greastest rival at the academy and shared the victory with her in every dueling competition the two could enter together, challenging one another to have the most decisive victory possible. Now, that woman sat a few seats to his left, staring at her ex-husband as he continued his address.<br/><br/>"Lastly, before your stomachs begin begging for my silence, I wish to remind those of you below 5th year that the underground training facilities are off limits without staff supervision. The monsters and magics within are deadly even to those with the proper training, and I would hate to be the one that informs your families that you passed away violating academy rules. As an additional note, Professor Strum," Abraxis lifted his hand off to his right side, his vision following the motion until it fell on a white-haired human man that stood in response to his name being called. The man, Elijah Strum, wore a snow white mantle that contrasted with the ashy shade of his short, scruffy mane, the tassels perfectly matching the hue of his crimson eyes. Underneath the mantle was a black turtleneck shirt, skin-tight and displaying muscular imprints that were highly pleasing to most eyes, if a bit unexpected from such a competent mage, and below that were black slacks that had been cut at the knee to provide him with a free range of movement. A chunk of hair on his right side had been drawn out of his face with a cylindrical ruby clasp, the ashen strands unable to fully hide the garnet studs that adorned his earlobes, nor the matching gemstones layered along several circlets around his slender neck. "Has been hard at work researching magitech advancements and will be unveiling a large-scale project this year to enhance combat training unilaterally. Any students who wish to help Professor Strum in the last stages of testing may reach out to him at their leisure within the next few weeks." Elijah returned to his seat as Abraxis finished noting his recent research achievement, obviously enthused that his hard work and long hours of tinkering was about to pay off.<br/><br/>"Now, this feast has been taunting you all for long enough, and I'd rather not hear complaints about an old man droning on past his welcome." With that, the headmaster finally lowered himself into his seat and took up his fork and knife, putting a degree of speed into lifting slices of seared ham and a generous helping of steaming mashed potatoes and vegetables onto his plate, then digging in to his meal at last, thankful for the decorum of his position now dealt with and put to the wayside for the remainder of the feast.