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Bash at the Brigshack
When Thealdi returned, he found the other inhabitants gathered in the main hall, engaged in happy chatter. He picked up a few words and it became clear they were discussing last night’s celebrations. After storing his purchases in the repository behind the kitchen, he joined the group, a bottle of wine in his hand.
“Good evening everyone”, he announced, “tonight we shall have yet another reason for a little party. My dear cousin Turglind has made his way to Brougoth and will be coming to the Brigshack any minute.”
“The Brigshack?”, interrupted Lendear, eyebrows raised.
“Ah, I seem to have failed telling you about it, forgive my lapse, I shall correct this in a minute. Why don’t you get something to drink for Lillyveen and yourself. I’ll be happy to tell that little tale once we’re all comfortable.”
Leander did as instructed and when he returned to the great hall with some beverages, Thealdi began. “It was many generations back, the times were, let’s say difficult for reasons I shall not delve into at this point, but it became necessary to guard ones houses. So the inhabitants went to work and apart from the ordinary mechanical means also added the one or other high jinks to fend off the unaware, for at that time one particular inhabitant of this house was not only known for his swift and skilled hands, working handicraft wonders, but also had a reputation for his unique sense of humour. He would for instance prepare one of the windows facing the backyard in such a way, that if some unlucky soul should attempt to enter the house through it, he would receive a good load of tar, accompanied with a bucket of feathers and for days the public could easily identify the poor soul as his victim. Not to mention the trap doors he had installed. If you didn’t know of the secret mechanism that would allow a safe traverse, you’d find yourself trapped in a basement chamber, full of rats, spiders and other unpleasant creatures after a quite painful descent, for he had spiked the ramp leading down with quite sharp nails. In order to add some enticement to the victim, a bucket of honey was spilled over the unfortunate. The mixture of blood and the sweet gooey mass did not only attract the rats, but also swarms of insects. I leave it to your imagination to picture the sufferings of the uninvited or worse the incautious.
Well, to make a long story short, he was the one who provided this venerable house with it’s derogatory name. Unfortunately it stuck and survived until today, of course not without my doing for I, as the last inhabitant could have easily dropped it. I think sometimes I am too sentimental…” He sighed, but then put on this smile of his and everybody chuckled. Thealdi let his eyes wander across the entire congregation, then continued.
“Well, now that I have revealed this name to you, it will be preserved for my house is now your house and will be for as long as you wish.”
Lillyveen burst out:
“You mean, I can stay here for good? Can Myrtha stay too, oh, Myrtha, do you want to stay here? We can all be together! Isn’t that just in-cre-dible? Awesome!”
The girl had jumped from her seat, one big bundle of excitement, failing to look both at Myrtha and Thealdi at the same time and therefore violently shaking her head, the motion a complete mismatch to what had just shot out from her mouth.
Lendear rolled his eyes, Myrtha traced the floor, turning pink, clearly ashamed of the girls action and Thealdi laughed heartily.
“Of course you stay here with us, silly girl. Did I ever give you reason to believe you are not wanted?”, he inquired in a mild, but slightly mocking tone, beaming at her.
“No, of course not, but I…”
A loud knock on the door interrupted the girl to Lendears great relief. He was really fond of her and it made him extremely happy to be near her, were it not for her frequent verbal avalanches which he found highly irritating. One of the girlish things, probably most boys at his age had some difficulties with.
Thealdi went to the door and shortly after returned with a stranger, who upon closer observation clearly resembled his host. He was a bit taller, but of the same lean make as the old man, however much younger and the odd, yet humorous smile he produced upon the sight of the assembly made Lendear suspect in him a direct descendent of the houses eponym.
After the introductions were made, Turglind made himself comfortable and helping himself to a glass of wine he eyed Lendear.
“So, my young friend, it’s a great pleasure to make your acquaintance. I can’t wait to hear everything about your journey! Thealdi made a few remarks on it, but I want all the details.” He smiled encouragingly at the boy, but then turned to Myrtha before Leander could open his mouth. “Lady Myrtha, forgive me, I am such an impatient ruffian…” and Turglind started to turn on the blarney that left both Lillyveen and Lendear staring at him yaws dropped, while the poor Myrtha turning purple now for completely different reasons, but seemingly not in total disliking about the man’s advances, helped Thealdi to a mild chuckle. He turned to Lendear and said:
“Adults can be quite strange at times, am I right?”
Reluctantly turning his head to the old man, his mind still transfixed on Turglind, he mumbled, “you tell me”, and both grinned.
“Contrary to your leisure hours, I was quite busy preparing for tomorrow when we will commence your training. I’ve got some nice surprises in stock for you, my friend. Apart from seeing Master Mot I will introduce you to some very fine people.”
The thought of having more lessons with the bow master filled Lendear with excitement. He liked the tight-lipped archer, his way of non-verbal communication suited the boy very well as it allowed him to fully concentrate on the shooting without the distractions of some small talk.
“But let’s not get into much details now, for tonight we want to celebrate Turglinds return.”
Turning to his cousin, Thealdi said:
“Noble squire, pardon my interruption of your little sweet twitter, but I think our two young friends here would like to get to know you a bit better, being our new housemate. Why don’t you retell the story of our little encounter in the public kitchen?”
Now it was Turglinds turn to change the colour of his face. Thealdi definitely had the amusement on his side and declined to let his cousin off the hook, pleading looks or not and so grudgingly Turglind disclosed his weak performance in shading the old man and the sudden and painful end of his efforts. He had a way of telling the story however that left the entire party holding their stomachs, gasping for breath.
Eventually the last giggle was spent, marking an end to waves and waves of erupting laughter and after new drinks were fetched, the latest addition to the group was woven in.
In his youth, Turglind had lived at the Brigshack, his parents engaged in a long quest where they had to spend most of the time abroad. Thealdi had stepped in as a substitute, practically adopting his young relative and most of what Turglind knew came from the old man. In the phases, where Thealdi would have an apprentice who’d be destined to become Messenger, Turglind was often involved in the training, resulting in an amazing set of various skills. Equipped with these capabilities, Turglind as soon as he was of age was appointed to the special forces by the High Council, performing undercover tasks of various nature. This was of course Thealdis doing, being in the position to best judge his cousins abilities, he knew how to make use of them for the greater good. It certainly hurt to let go of the then young man and in the beginning, Thealdi often regretted his decision, but solely out of selfish motives and it was years before he stopped his constant worries about the wellbeing of his fosterling. The unexpected reunion and probably the intake of one or the other glass of wine made his eyes fill with grateful tears and he lingered in this moment of emotions, trying to hold on to it as long as he could.