Cylus 2, Arc 720
This, the Mortalborn decided with a frown as he saw the rows upon rows of desks and chairs in the classroom that he had been given, wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. He needed a bit of space for what he had in mind, so without further ado, he put the folder with the notes he had made for that trial’s class away, took his coat, a fine and elegant coat that was made of dark wool that was lined with silver fur, off and went to work, pushing the desks against the wall and arranging the chairs in a large semicircle at the front of the room.
Approximately fifteen bits later, he finally sat down behind his own desk, barely out of breath, leaned slightly back, folded his hands on the desk and waited for his students to arrive. And arrive they did. Soon, about thirty people, all of them between the age of eighteen and thirty, apart from one older lady with white hair that had decided that she might as well spend her retirement doing something productive (which was something that he did of course approve of), sat there and looked at him expectantly and somewhat confusedly.
He looked at them for a moment before he spoke, in a firm and clear tone so that they would have no problem understanding what he was saying, “Good morning, class. To-trial, we will do something a little different. To-trial, I will not simply stand in front of the blackboard and talk to you about the various aspects of alchemy. To-trial’s class will be a bit more on the practical side. Alchemy is, as you all know and as I have already told you approximately a hundred times before, a dangerous science. Accidents happen, even if you observe all the necessary safety measures. For that reason, I will teach you something about first aid to-trial.”
He paused for a moment so that they could think about what he had said before he continued, “You have without a doubt already noticed the suitcase.” He gestured towards a large, dark suitcase that stood to the left of his desk with a hand that was encased in a thin black glove that hid the mutation he had acquired as a result of his growing proficiency in his chosen magic quite effectively. A matching glove was on his other hand. “It contains something that we will need to-trial, a tool, if you will, the result of a collaboration between a skilled engineer and a physicist. You will all take turns practicing with it”, he told them, noticing that a few students had started to whisper to each other. It seemed, he realized with a light smirk, as if they were quite curious about the surprise that he had prepared for them to-trial, the contents of the mysterious suitcase.
“First of all, we will cover a few other aspects of first aid though”, informed them which caused a few students to let out disappointed sounds and make a face. He decided to ignore those reactions. Opening the suitcase without them knowing what they were supposed to do with what was inside of it wouldn’t be of any use, as far as he was concerned.
This, the Mortalborn decided with a frown as he saw the rows upon rows of desks and chairs in the classroom that he had been given, wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. He needed a bit of space for what he had in mind, so without further ado, he put the folder with the notes he had made for that trial’s class away, took his coat, a fine and elegant coat that was made of dark wool that was lined with silver fur, off and went to work, pushing the desks against the wall and arranging the chairs in a large semicircle at the front of the room.
Approximately fifteen bits later, he finally sat down behind his own desk, barely out of breath, leaned slightly back, folded his hands on the desk and waited for his students to arrive. And arrive they did. Soon, about thirty people, all of them between the age of eighteen and thirty, apart from one older lady with white hair that had decided that she might as well spend her retirement doing something productive (which was something that he did of course approve of), sat there and looked at him expectantly and somewhat confusedly.
He looked at them for a moment before he spoke, in a firm and clear tone so that they would have no problem understanding what he was saying, “Good morning, class. To-trial, we will do something a little different. To-trial, I will not simply stand in front of the blackboard and talk to you about the various aspects of alchemy. To-trial’s class will be a bit more on the practical side. Alchemy is, as you all know and as I have already told you approximately a hundred times before, a dangerous science. Accidents happen, even if you observe all the necessary safety measures. For that reason, I will teach you something about first aid to-trial.”
He paused for a moment so that they could think about what he had said before he continued, “You have without a doubt already noticed the suitcase.” He gestured towards a large, dark suitcase that stood to the left of his desk with a hand that was encased in a thin black glove that hid the mutation he had acquired as a result of his growing proficiency in his chosen magic quite effectively. A matching glove was on his other hand. “It contains something that we will need to-trial, a tool, if you will, the result of a collaboration between a skilled engineer and a physicist. You will all take turns practicing with it”, he told them, noticing that a few students had started to whisper to each other. It seemed, he realized with a light smirk, as if they were quite curious about the surprise that he had prepared for them to-trial, the contents of the mysterious suitcase.
“First of all, we will cover a few other aspects of first aid though”, informed them which caused a few students to let out disappointed sounds and make a face. He decided to ignore those reactions. Opening the suitcase without them knowing what they were supposed to do with what was inside of it wouldn’t be of any use, as far as he was concerned.
