The Lady of Eyre took DaddyBear the Minivandian by the hand and led him toward the temple. Waiting for them was the Master of Education, an elven mage whose wizened face gave the lie to his apparent youth.
“Welcome to Padrog the Serpent Banisher School. Are you here to learn of our school or to participate in the mid-summer sacrifice?” he queried.
“Our offspring, the Young Prince, shall be starting his education here within the fortnight, and we are here to meet his teacher.” answered the Minivandian.
“Excellent. Please go into the hall of meeting, where we shall begin the program in a few moments.”
My lord DaddyBear nodded his head in acknowledgement, and taking his lady’s hand, entered the hall of meeting. Gathered there were the teachers of the young and the parents of the other acolytes. Among them were warriors that the Minivandian knew, and they exchanged nods and stern looks of greeting. The Lady of Eyre made the rounds of the other mothers, murmuring greetings and smiling.
After a few moments, the Master of Education strode to the front of the room, and in a deep voice of authority, bid the parents to take their seats. After everyone had found their place, he fixed them with a warm gaze and greeted them once again.
“Welcome, my friends, to our school. Before we begin our time of informing, I will ask the padre for a prayer.”
Entering from the shadows of the hall, the priest walked to the front of the assemblage. His black robes were impeccable, and the dueling scar on his cheek told the Minivandian that there was more to him than a humble cleric.
“Lord of hosts,” intoned the holy man, “please be with us as we begin the education of our children and their preparation to be willing leaders of your faithful. Help us to shoulder this awesome responsibility, and always help us to remember the prayer of our Lord and Savior: ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do'”.
The prayer ended, the Master of Education again took the stage, and introduced the teachers of the young children. Among the women there appeared to be masters of both magic and combat, with one proudly wearing a glittering red robe of dragon skin and another bearing a headdress of phoenix feathers.
After the introductions and some notes about how to utilize the magic elf boxes to gather still more information, the Master of Education bid the parents to adjourn to the chambers of the classes so as to learn about the teachers of the very young.
The Lady of Eyre placed her delicate but firm hand on the arm of the Minivandian, and they followed the teacher in red dragon robes down into the dungeon of the school, there to find the chamber of the Garden of Children. Behind them filed the rest of the parents, 10 in all.
As they all entered the chamber, they were greeted with colorful pictures of runes and numbers. A large slab of slate was bolted to the wall for marking, and small shelves for the students’ belongings were along the opposite wall. Small tables with even smaller stools were situated around a throne carved from what looked like the thigh bone of a great red dragon.
The teacher stepped up to the throne, and placing her hand upon it, addressed the parents.
“I am Mistress Llewellyn, the teacher of the very young here at Padrog the Serpent Banisher. I am very excited to be starting anew with your children. I have been instructing here for many years, and I hope to do as well with your offspring as I have with other students.”
Surveying the gathered parents, she smiled the smile of a predator on the hunt.
“As you can see, the children are given their own space to keep their things. The shelves should be large enough for their beginner’s scrolls and quills, pots of glue, and melee weapons. We do ask that children of such a young age not bring missile weapons to school, except on Fridays of course. That is the day of the school-wide tournament, and if a child wishes to compete in either the general scrum or the contests of skill, then they may bring their bows, spears, or slings. You will find the permission slips for these activities in the folders on the tables in front of you. In addition, even through I know that many of you may have begun training with them at home, we do ask that no bladed weapons be brought to school until the third year. This is done to prevent any…. unfortunate incidents before we are sure that all of the children are ready for such things.
“In the folders you will also find the forms for deciding on whether your child shall bring their mid-day meal with them from home, or shall purchase it from our Master of Culinary Magic, Master Dispertiebat. Please remember that he tends to prepare rather exotic fare when allowed to, so unless you have served your offspring firedrake sausage or sea serpent steak in the past, you might consider having them bring lunch for the most part.
“Pick up and drop off for the first week will be done quite slowly and methodically as the children learn their combat roles and how to leap into the back of a moving vehicle. Of course, after that, we expect them to roll out of their car seats and pull themselves back into the vehicle as you roll past as fast as you can safely do so.
“Finally, I just want to ask if any of your children have learned any spells, and whether or not they have actually been able to curse anyone?”
My lord Minivandian raised his hand, remembering the condition of the boy who had broken his daughter’s heart. It had taken weeks for the curse of the black warts to wear off, no matter the dire punishments with which he had threatened the Young Prince. Mistress Llewellyn made a note of the Minivandian’s affirmative response, and that of a handful of other fathers.
“Well, now that we are through that, does anyone have any questions?” she asked.
The Lady of Eyre raised her hand, and the teacher acknowledged her with a friendly smile and a nod.
“We have found that our son transforms into a hairy, ill-tempered beast if he is given the milk of the field-beast that has not been magically gathered by Hungarian cattle masters, and filtered through the used stocking of a Filipino fairy princess, or if he is fed food colored blood-red, or flavored by the mages of artificial sweeteners . Does the school stock commodities that would prevent that, or should we send along his midday meal from home?” inquired the Minivandian’s mate.
“In that case, I would suggest that he bring his lunch from home, my lady. Of course, on Wotan’s Day, we provide the meat and tomato pie of the Italians, and he might enjoy that as a treat.”
The teacher answered several more questions about how the students were to dress, the time of beginning and ending of classes, and whether or not the children would learn advanced combat techniques, both armed and unarmed.
Eventually, all questions had been answered, and the parents were shown the circuitous route back to the place of parking. On the way out of the temple of learning, the priest took the Minivandian’s hand and wished him well, one old warrior to another. Returning the firm grip of the wizened old cleric, the Minivandian returned the sentiment and made a mental note to enjoy a few ales with this priest. No one tells better war tales than a cleric who has had a few brews of the wheat and barley.
Returning to his freehold with the Lady of Eyre, my lord DaddyBear felt confident that the Young Prince would do well at Padrog the Serpent Banisher. Packed in a box downstairs was the miniature war club that he himself had practiced with in the Garden of Children, and his father, and his father before him. He looked forward to presenting it to his young son on the first day of learning.
Many adventures did the Young Prince have at his school. Many new lessons did he learn from his teachers, and I dare say that he taught them a few tricks of his own. But those are stories for another time.
Now, let me tell you tales of high adventure…..








Old NFO
/ August 14, 2013DB, you REALLY need to compile these into a book! Fantastic!!!
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daddybear71
/ August 14, 2013Thanks. I’ll eventually download them and have them printed for the kids.
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