Never take a Swing at History
Normally, Beacon's halls were crowded with students filtering into their classes. However, today, not a soul found themselves in the halls of Vale's greatest academy. Instead, students sat in the dining hall, making conversation as they patiently waited for their headmaster to appear. Just as the sounds of idle chatter grew to be almost unbearably loud, the subtle sound of a gruff voice clearing his throat immediately silence the would-be warriors. The sea of students all turned their attention to a make-shift platform that sat at the front of the dining hall, a microphone standing on the top of it.
Behind the microphone stood Beacon's headmaster, Professor Ozpin, looking to confirm that all attention was focused on him. After a long pause, he spoke, "Well, here we are, it is god to see that you are all doing well. As I can imagine, you all must be very anxious to return to your families and celebrate the coming holiday and I would not be the one to stop you. However, I feel it would be a disservice to the student body if we did not hold our own celebration and reflect on what it is that we are celebrating."
Suddenly, a holographic image appeared behind the headmaster. The image was that of a large, brutish, man, almost ancient in appearance. The large brute was covered in the furs of animals, his helmet, coat and boots, all seemed to be covered in the pelts of past prey. This creature did not appear to be pleasant as he wore a vicious scowl on his face and wielded two large, blood stained, axes in each hand.
"This," Ozpin began, "is Grongar the Malicious. He was a cruel tyrant, one of the most brutal warriors in all of Remnant's history, and the reason for the holiday that we celebrate to this very day." At this point, the students were beginning to settle in for what they felt was going to be a long history lesson. "From where Grongar finds his origins, not even modern historians know, but we do know that he was an unparalleled conquer, having taken over the entirety of his native land, according to historical accounts. Having grown bored from the lack of worthy challengers, Grongar decided to move on to new lands, and further conquests. The tyrant then spent six years cleat cutting his land in order to build a fleet of ships the likes of which had never been seen before, and having completed that, her set off for uncharted land but, of course, not before setting fire to his original empire.
Grongar would soon discover a new place to conquer, with its own indigenous people. These natives were highly-skilled in the creation of new tools and greeted Grongar with generous hospitality. He was introduced to the many tool that these people used to improve everyday life and made up the foundation of their society. According to written accounts of the time, by sunset, Grongar had decided to take the tools that had been shown to him, and instead of use them for their intended purpose, he loaded them into his crossbow and fired them at the indigenous people, thus beginning his takeover and a tradition of weaponry that we follow even to this day. It should also be noted th—"
Any further history lecture was interrupted by the sound of a gruff, almost maniacal, laugh echoing through the hall. The students began to look around the room, searching for the source of the disturbance. The teachers wore calm expressions, awaiting the owner of the laugh to reveal themselves. The laugh began to become louder and louder and as it did, the more a slight bit of femininity could be heard. The cackling continued to grow and then, suddenly, silence. A brown blur fell from the ceiling of the dining hall and onto the center table with a loud "THUNK!"
What was revealed to the on looking students left them with befuddled faces. It was their fellow student, Nora Valkyrie, dressed in head to toe in fur. She wore a helmet, large coat, pants and boots made of unkempt fur, her hammer strung on her back. Her pale skin and red hair, stood in blatant contrast to her costume.
"MISS. VALKRYIE, WOULD YOU MIND EXPLANING WHY IT IS YOU CHOSE TO INTERRUPT THE HEADMASTERS SPEECH," roared Glynda Goodwitch, who stood next the Professor Ozpins makeshift podium. The professors angered inquiry was only met by the same forced cackle, and Nora, taking her hammer and pointing it at her teacher. When Nora spoke, it was not her own voice, but a thick Nordic accent instead. "You wench, you dare speak to Grongar that way, I, who has destroyed all that stand in front of him!" Nora's response did nothing to improve Professor Goodwitch's mood, her scowl only growing on her face. "Now you're threatening a teacher, your level of disrespect seems to know now bounds," the professor responded, her voice calming but still filled with murderous rage.
"I will give you one chance to join your fellow students at the table after you apologize to the Professor." Nora chuckled at her instructor and continued to berate her instructor, this time, her accent became somewhat Irish. "Ah, this lass thinks she's got what it takes to stand up to Grongar? Well, then I think it's time she proves that she's more than just flapping gums."
Before Nora could hear Professor Goodwitch's response she was pulled down by the collar by a familiar blonde girl. "Are you crazy? Are you really trying to fight a teacher, I'm all for a fight but, she's a teacher! You'd get creamed!"
"AND EXPELLED," added the white-haired heiress sitting next to Yang.
Nora only freed herself from Yang's grip and returned to her position, pointing her weapon at her instructor. "I will not be intimidated by this women, I am a warrior. HAVE AT YOU WENCH!" Nora shot off, leaping toward the stage, her jump carrying her almost the entire length of the table. As she went to plant her foot for another jump, the place where she was about to her foot mysteriously cracked and she fell through the table as she put her weight on it.
Normally, being sent through a table was not something that would phase a Beacon student but the fall was accompanied by dozens of falling heavy plates that were filled with food, rendering her unconscious. The silence that followed Nora's defeat was broken by the sounds of Professor Ozpin clearing his throat bellowing throughout the room. The crowd turned back to face their Headmaster. "If security would be kind enough to escort Ms. Valkyrie to the infirmary that would speed things along quite nicely. Now, where was I? Ah yes, it should be noted that—" The professor continued his speech uninhibited as he chose to ignore the hushed whispers that littered the room, ignoring his history lesson.
