There is a single classroom in the orphanage -- it consists of bench seating and rows of connected desks before them, with a slate and chalk at each seat, and a blackboard in the front of the room. There is a small shelf of books, a map, and some educational illustrations pinned up. A few small windows sit on one side of the classroom. Many of the orphans cannot read or write, and that is often the focus of classes -- however other knowledge is imparted as well.
He didn’t got it. No matter how much he tried, the characters written on the book pages barely made sense to Feral. It wasn’t that he was a complete illiterate, as he could in fact (and with no little effort) write and read his own name along a few other things, but he wasn’t the best kid at the orphanage when it came to matters of intellect by a very, very long shot. His only strength in the fight against the book was that no matter how long the words were or the fact he had never heard some of them in his life, Feral was stubborn enough to keep on trying.
“Synomi-….Symomi--…Argh! Screw it!” With a closed fist he slammed the desk in frustration. “Why do ya need those weird words…those ain’t going to help ya doing somethin’ useful…” His gaze diverted to the map, one of the other few things he actually knew how to read. For a few seconds he stared at the forest frontier between Norgrad and Corinth, where they had told him his kin lived. It was hard to recognize the place he had lived all his life in the colored paper, but recognizing it’s name was able to make him nostalgic….And recognizing Norgrad on the north was able to enrage him, silently reminding him of his goal.
“Synomi-….Symomi--…Argh! Screw it!” With a closed fist he slammed the desk in frustration. “Why do ya need those weird words…those ain’t going to help ya doing somethin’ useful…” His gaze diverted to the map, one of the other few things he actually knew how to read. For a few seconds he stared at the forest frontier between Norgrad and Corinth, where they had told him his kin lived. It was hard to recognize the place he had lived all his life in the colored paper, but recognizing it’s name was able to make him nostalgic….And recognizing Norgrad on the north was able to enrage him, silently reminding him of his goal.
Linwood had been quietly busying himself around the room, reorganizing the books on the shelf and cleaning the line of chalk dust off of the desks and now wiping off the big blackboard at the front of the room with a damp cloth, cleaning it of all the teachings and vagrant chalk dust of yesterday's lesson. That was always his chore, since he was just tall enough to reach the top of the board, but it did seem like more chores were becoming his chores lately. First it was helping with the firewood and the laundry, then the cleaning, and just recently he was even helping out with dinners. The change irked him, but he didn't dare question it.
A dull thud and a shout from a familiar voice registered in his ears, pulling him from his thoughts and causing him to jump like a startled creature. He set the rag down on the tray and walked over to Feral. He was at it with the books again, always getting frustrated with the books. "What are you working on?" he asked, figuring he might be of a help.
A dull thud and a shout from a familiar voice registered in his ears, pulling him from his thoughts and causing him to jump like a startled creature. He set the rag down on the tray and walked over to Feral. He was at it with the books again, always getting frustrated with the books. "What are you working on?" he asked, figuring he might be of a help.
Just then, the door to the classroom creaked open as the knob was spun with almost unnoticeable speed. standing at nearly the roof of the doorway was one of the mentors known simply as "Tybalt", with heel to toe movements he silently and slowly walked over to the two children, leaning down to look at one and then shifting his gaze to the other. "... So your having difficultys with your corriculum it seems... Do the two of you require my assistance? I am glad to help..." From the holes and grooves of Tybalts helm a frosty breath wheeses out from the man.
For unknown reasons he wore full plate armor around the orphanage, refuseing to take them off while in public. Tybalt also stood at a massive height around 9ft! With this superior height he reached to the top of the book shelf near by and pulled out a dusty object wrapped in leather. Unfolding the leather with two delicate fingers he revealed a small, untitled handbook with various rips and tears. "This will assist you with any gramatical troubles you have, it consists of a plethora of knowlege on puzzling words and complicated sentances. The first pages consist of simple words and phrases for someone with troubles like yours, and as you progress through it continually becomes more and more intellectual and complex. Hopefully, the same will happen to you as you read along." Tybalt leans down and extends his massive hand with the book in his palm to the children. "My name is Tybalt, I am one of the caretakers... Im sure we will have an exquisite time together in this classroom."
For unknown reasons he wore full plate armor around the orphanage, refuseing to take them off while in public. Tybalt also stood at a massive height around 9ft! With this superior height he reached to the top of the book shelf near by and pulled out a dusty object wrapped in leather. Unfolding the leather with two delicate fingers he revealed a small, untitled handbook with various rips and tears. "This will assist you with any gramatical troubles you have, it consists of a plethora of knowlege on puzzling words and complicated sentances. The first pages consist of simple words and phrases for someone with troubles like yours, and as you progress through it continually becomes more and more intellectual and complex. Hopefully, the same will happen to you as you read along." Tybalt leans down and extends his massive hand with the book in his palm to the children. "My name is Tybalt, I am one of the caretakers... Im sure we will have an exquisite time together in this classroom."
(OOC: hey don't have time to reply today but i will twomorrow first time. But i wanted to ask you guys if you're okay with this pattern of turns? like Linewood>Tybalt>Feral. I personally am, but wanted to know if yo udid too or preffered not to have a pattern 
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“In this good-for-nothin’ book!” Feral growled, slapping the pages in anger, the paper clapping softly under his hand. “It’s words are dumb! The hell is “Apoth-ee-cary”?! Damn book is broken or somethin’…” It could be hilarious how short the boy’s fuse was, seeing how worked up he could get over simply a few long words. But yet again, in the two years or so that Feral had been in the orphanage, he was never recognized for his patience and inter peace precisely. With a low sigh, Feral rested his cheek on his hand and started to browse the pages until he found the one from before, mumbling begrudgingly.
The creaking at the door was enough to catch the boy’s attention, turning to see the armored caretaker enter the classroom, fixing him a menacing glare. Feral knew better than to attack the caretakers, after all, even he could grasp a concept like “don’t bite the hand that feeds you”. But then again, this man was was a common topic at the orphanage, almost like a ghost tale; a mysterious caretaker covered in an armor, who appears and disappears from the building, and eats the naughty children who don’t go to sleep. All things that were certainly hard to believe, but still credible enough for Feral being wary of him, following his movements across the room as the man reached for the bookshelf.
The boy gave him a puzzled look when he started to explain the contents of the book, not entirely sure of grasping all what the man was saying, if anything at all. With a puzzled look, he inspected booth Tybalt and the book before grabbing the last, and giving it a closer inspection. “Name’s Feral…You sayin’ this will make me smarter?” He asked, confirming the only part of Tybalt’s speech he barely understood without taking his eyes out of the book. Feral might not have been the brightest, but he understood that intelligence was something useful, specially for what he intended to do.
(OOC: Ok great
)
The creaking at the door was enough to catch the boy’s attention, turning to see the armored caretaker enter the classroom, fixing him a menacing glare. Feral knew better than to attack the caretakers, after all, even he could grasp a concept like “don’t bite the hand that feeds you”. But then again, this man was was a common topic at the orphanage, almost like a ghost tale; a mysterious caretaker covered in an armor, who appears and disappears from the building, and eats the naughty children who don’t go to sleep. All things that were certainly hard to believe, but still credible enough for Feral being wary of him, following his movements across the room as the man reached for the bookshelf.
The boy gave him a puzzled look when he started to explain the contents of the book, not entirely sure of grasping all what the man was saying, if anything at all. With a puzzled look, he inspected booth Tybalt and the book before grabbing the last, and giving it a closer inspection. “Name’s Feral…You sayin’ this will make me smarter?” He asked, confirming the only part of Tybalt’s speech he barely understood without taking his eyes out of the book. Feral might not have been the brightest, but he understood that intelligence was something useful, specially for what he intended to do.
(OOC: Ok great
)
Linwood was unaware that another entity had entered the room until he was standing right beside himself, holding out one of the books from the shelf, he'd been so intent on squinting at the book Feral had been reading in some vain attempt to divine a few of the more complex words' pronunciations. It wasn't until the massive shape loomed beside him, until the low growl came within his hearing range that he registered the presence and immediately froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing.
Linwood had made it a point to stay very far away from Tybalt. He was too much of an enigma to ever feel safe around.
Feral interacted with the golem of a caretaker in his usual, irritated manner while Lin simply stood and watched him speak, his feet only cooperating minimally to move himself slightly away from the monster. One wrapped hand slowly moved behind himself, feeling over the edge of the desk and quietly gripping onto the slate that sat on top. He couldn't let that suit of armor harm himself or Feral, and for all he knew, whatever it was couldn't even speak to negotiate with. Shouting, "Leave him alone!" he picked the slate up and whipped it straight at the belly of the beast.
Without even checking if the slate had done any damage, Lin turned and darted to the other end of the long desk, cowering behind the lousy form of defense for a brief moment before darting the rest of the way out of the room.
Linwood had made it a point to stay very far away from Tybalt. He was too much of an enigma to ever feel safe around.
Feral interacted with the golem of a caretaker in his usual, irritated manner while Lin simply stood and watched him speak, his feet only cooperating minimally to move himself slightly away from the monster. One wrapped hand slowly moved behind himself, feeling over the edge of the desk and quietly gripping onto the slate that sat on top. He couldn't let that suit of armor harm himself or Feral, and for all he knew, whatever it was couldn't even speak to negotiate with. Shouting, "Leave him alone!" he picked the slate up and whipped it straight at the belly of the beast.
Without even checking if the slate had done any damage, Lin turned and darted to the other end of the long desk, cowering behind the lousy form of defense for a brief moment before darting the rest of the way out of the room.