Emerick had expected to find some wrong doing within the Honey Pot institution, but it had not once crossed his mind that he would be able to tell they were blatantly lying to his father's face before he had even set foot in the building. Looking at the damnable structure, he wondered how any sort of learning could occur in such a hazardous setting.
"Are we sure this is the right place?" Orval questioned. The burly guard seemed to share Emerick's doubts.
"Unfortunately," Emerick frowned, glancing down at the blueprints for the renovation that had supposedly taken place and concluded only seven months prior. The young man wasn't completely familiar with construction practices, but he was fairly confident that such degradation didn't occur so quickly unless some sort of significant disaster, natural or otherwise, took place.
"Who the HELL would put a bunch of kids in a place like this?" Orval demanded. Emerick looked at him warningly. Orval was a very just man who was honest to a fault and compassionate as they came. It spoke a lot of his character to know that he was the only full-blooded dragon that willingly served Emerick directly and didn't simply guard him per his father's orders. Just or not, he couldn't afford him going ballistic on the staff… not until they was given the proper authorization to do so at least.
"We're going to find out," Emerick sighed. Taking a moment to arrange the paperwork in the brief case, he replaced the remodel schematics and retrieved the certification paperwork his father had prepared as well as a note pad.
Steeling himself with a deep breath, he pushed through the creaking doors into the questionable building. As bad as the exterior appeared, it had nothing on the atrocity that was the interior. For a moment, both he and Orval were left speechless.
"Good day gentlemen," A young woman called from a table that seemed to be employed as a desk. Emerick could only assume she was meant to be the service clerk for the facility. "Are you here to scout an apprentice? Or are you here to contribute a donation perhaps?"
"Not exactly," Emerick forced a smile. All at once, he realized the true reason his father had sent him specifically. Arnwald had enlisted Emerick, not because he would be impartial, but because he knew his son would actually care about the children's wellbeing. And oh boy did he care! He cared so much that his draconic blood was screaming for somebody's head on a pike. Until he finished collecting the necessary evidence, however, he was forced to utilize some level of diplomacy.
Observing the clerk, who was far too happy to see him given the circumstances, he was fairly certain she didn't truly recognize him for who he was, which was a bit of a surprise. Everyone who knew him insisted he bore a strong resemblance to his father who—being the king and quite popular among the people to boot—had portraits of his likeness hung practically everywhere. To exacerbate matters, Arnwald had a very unique and distinct appearance, and Emerick was even wearing his colors. Then again, it didn't appear as though the dubious structure had a wall sturdy enough to hang any portraits.
"Oh, then how may I help you today?" Her brows knit together quizzically. If he wasn't royally pissed with her, and every other incompetent adult in the building for that matter, he might've thought her cute. As it was, no amount of false innocence in her doe-like brown eyes would sway him from his course.
Wordlessly, the placed the inspection package on the table and slid it in front of her. She skimmed the top page, a cover page with little more than the inspection announcement and a brief letter of introduction, with little to no expression until something on the sheet—he was guessing his name—caught her eye. Emerick was hard pressed not to laugh at her when the clerk's eyes bulged. It was entertaining to watch her frantically read and reread the page several more times before she looked back at him. This time, when her eyes met his, he could see the recognition dawn in her expression. Her complexion turned alarmingly pale as he held her gaze and offered her a chilling smile.
"Surprise!" He said through his cruel smirk. Grabbing Orval's shoulder to keep him in check, Emerick waited several moments to allow the clerk the opportunity to finish reading the rest of the document, but when she made no move to do so, he retrieved the forms and tucked them back into his brief case. It was a shame, if she had read the rest, she might've had a heads up about what to expect the following day.
"This… no… this… it can't be happening!" She stammered a protest. "We've… we've already had our quarterly inspection! The next one isn't due for at least two more months! And you can't just come here without warning! You're required to give us time to prepare for these sorts of things!"
"If only that where true," Emerick chuckled, though the mirth in his voice didn't reach his piercingly frigid eyes. "Isn't the whole point of an inspection to accurately assess how well the subject is doing their job? That should be evident every day regardless of whether or not an inspector is expected to make an appearance.... Though if you really want to, I suppose you can take it up with my father."
"Wait!" she called out as he turned to go and motioned Orval to follow. "Please! If you give me a moment, I'll arrange a guide to take you around!"
"While I certainly 'appreciate' your offer, my escort and I can find our way around just fine, thanks." Emerick offered a half-assed wave—which may have not-so-subtly exposed his lonely middle finger—then confidently strode into the depths of the near-literal death trap.
"Jacoby is going to have fun tearing this place apart tomorrow," Orval commented as they observed the piles of rubble, broken pipes, and shattered lanterns.
"Indeed he will," Emerick said through a pursed smile.