The Eduard Sterrn School for Gifted Children
Sept 12, 2021 10:52:35 GMT
Merla, the Daughter of Summer, Jaezred Vandree, and 3 more like this
Post by Ian (Menace) on Sept 12, 2021 10:52:35 GMT
Menace peers over the crest of his steepled fingers at the bald man with the laugh-creases around his weathered eyes. The office in the Banking House of Teneveer & d’Argent is built to intimidate, white-and-black chequered marble tiles reflecting the flicker of candles, and the darkwood panelled walls seemingly sucking all sound from the room. The man clears his throat nervously, as Menace nods toward the resume on the desk between them.
“You were a schoolmaster in Waterdeep?”
“Yes sir. I ran a private establishment catering to the city’s best and brightest, with a strong focus on…”
“What would you think of a fully funded boarding school for underprivileged children?”
“... umm, sir, when you say ‘underprivileged’ ” a confused wrinkle spreads across his forehead, “are you talking of... urchins? To be honest, I am not sure how much there would be to teach them, given their lack of pedigree…”
“Get out.”
The elderly schoolmaster takes a shocked moment to absorb the abrupt end of the interview, then hurries out.
“I see here that you are… 'a strong believer in physical discipline to instil expected behaviour' - care to elaborate?”
The dwarf nods vigorously. “A hard lesson today will save you many a repetition tomorrow.”
“Out. Now.”
“You believe the best way to form young minds is to never say 'no' to them?”
“Absolutely! Any form of negativity will breed only contempt and destroys the budding self-discovery process that every young person - i detest the word ‘child’ - undergoes, leaving emotionally stunted individuals. My method…”
"Oh hells, NO! Out!
"Any religious affiliation?”
“Yes my son, I am an ordained priest of Tyr and strive to instil…”
“OUT!”
“You are Mrs… From-the-Mountain-Sings?”
The goliath lady is sitting upright in a chair that is groaning under her weight, massive hands covered in blue swirling tribal tattoos folded comfortably in her lap.
“That is correct.”
Her voice comes in a deep contralto.
“How would you summarize your teaching philosophy?”
“Be firm, but fair. The most important lesson for these children is that no one will give them anything for free in life. But that does not mean they should not be adequately prepared for it in as gentle a way as is effective. Harsh lessons turn young hearts hard - but brittle.”
Menace leans back in his chair.
“And you know this, how?”
“I have seen it.”
Dark and rich the sing-song of her voice goes, sweet as caramel and enduring as molasses.
“Where?”
“The streets of Neverwinter. I worked at a shelter there, tending to the needs of lost souls and orphans. Adversity breeds hardy folk, but few of them will know anything but pain - and how to use it themselves.”
Menace does not blink.
“You think that is so bad? Those that learn these lessons well can surely take care of themselves.”
From-the-Mountain-Sings brushes a brown curl behind her ear and crosses her legs in one fluid motion, the chair creaking in protest.
“Perhaps, but that curriculum is rather thin. Take the orc clans, for example, known to throw their younglings off of cliff-sides, to test which are strong enough to survive the fall and climb back up. That makes for thick hides and good athletes, but what is the last great orc scholar you have heard of? There is more to life than pain, and every child deserves a chance to discover that on their own…”
She leans forward,
slowly,
measured,
matter-of-factly.
“...and then make their own choices accordingly.”
Her smile is not triumphant. It is merely inevitable.
Menace blinks.
“When can you start?”
The sound of hammers echo from inside the building as Menace and Carl inspect the construction site. The school appears largely finished, work continuing on the inside and gardeners busying themselves planting young trees in the walled yard, a great bronze gate leading out into New Town, where curious passers-by linger to peek at what will soon become Port Ffirst’s newest town addition.
“The dormitory wing is over there, the schoolhouse proper is the central building, and the trade school workshops are on the other side...”
Menace is eagerly gesticulating, pointing out features as they stride through the school.
“...take the kids off the street, have them here on room and board, properly fed and clothed, and give them a real education. And if they want and show the aptitude, offer training in trades; I am arranging cooperation agreements and work placements with some of the bank’s client businesses. What do you think, Carl?”
The young assistant nods appreciatively. “I wish this had been here a few years ago, when I was still on my own. I know a few kids for whom this would have made all the difference.”
“Well,” Menace smiles sideways at his assistant, “in a way, you were the sole member of the inaugural class. But there is only so much I can do by myself. This will institutionalise the effort. Give the urchins of Port Ffirst a real chance.”
They have come to a stop in the school yard again, Mace putting his hands on his hips and nodding appreciatively at the inscription over the gate.
The Eduard Sterrn School for Gifted Children
“Gifted Children? Isn't that a bit much?”
Mace laughs, “a little marketing never hurt anyone. Besides, I hope it will help to foster a sense of self-worth in the kids. Gods know, a lot of them will have had to deal with a lot of abuse before they make it through these gates. A bit of reverse elitism might be helpful, don't you think? Who knows, if the curriculum becomes as respected as I hope it will, maybe even some of the merchant families will start to send their children here as well - prestige tends to be important to these people. Let’s give them what they want.”
Carl nods and keeps his eyes on the bronze sign for another moment. The sun reflects off the gleaming metal, causing him to turn toward his mentor.
“Eduard Sterrn… I have not heard that name before. Who is he?”
Menace stares ahead, black eyes clouded by memories.
“He was a good man. A teacher. I think he would have liked this. But he is dead and I am alive. Let’s leave it at that.”