Mealybrae House

I stayed the night and have this story to tell. The Curious Tale of Mealybrae Inn Act I: The Arrival [Enter TRAVELER, weary and worn, at the threshold of MEALYBRAE INN. The moon waxeth full o’er the misty moors.] TRAVELER: What dusky haunt be this? What timbered walls Do creak with whispers of the world unseen? A lantern sways upon the eaves’ embrace, And through yon door the scent of roasted meats Doth beckon me to enter—aye, I shall. [He knocks; the door doth groan open.] KEVIN FLEMING (within): Who dares disturb the slumber of mine hearth? Or dost thou seek the solace of an inn, A cup of ale, a pallet for the night? TRAVELER: If warmth and shelter be thy gift to give, Then prithee, Master Fleming, I accept. [Enter KEVIN FLEMING, bald and plump, a belly round as autumn’s fullest gourd. His eye doth gleam with merry madness, his lips pursed as one who knoweth secrets strange.] KEVIN FLEMING: Then enter swift, ere shadow’s fingers creep, For night be fickle on the moors, my friend. [The TRAVELER steps forth, and lo! Enter MARIANNE, his wife, fair and round of cheek, clad in gowns of twilight blue.] MARIANNE: Welcome, poor soul, unto our humble rest! Didst hear the wind upon the craggy hills? It moaneth as the wraiths of olden time— But peace, for here the fire keepeth well. [Enter EMMA, their daughter, a wild and fey-like creature, her form gnarled and mischievous as though some goblin spirit had forged her in jest.] EMMA: Hark! Mother, Father, what odd guest be this? A mortal man? A weary traveler? Or mayhap one who dreams in tangled thoughts And wakes to find himself in stranger halls? TRAVELER: What sights are these? Thine inn doth stir my mind, As though some dreamscape clasp’d me in its grasp. And thou, young maid, dost bear a visage wild— A goblin’s grin doth play upon thy lips. EMMA (laughing): A goblin, sayst thou? Lo, mayhap ’tis true! For here in Mealybrae, the world is thin, And stranger things than thee have crossed our doors. Act II: The Supper [A great oaken table is laid; meats of spiced savor and steaming bread doth tempt the air. The TRAVELER is seated, flanked by KEVIN and MARIANNE, whilst EMMA percheth goblin-like upon a stool.] KEVIN FLEMING: Eat, sir, and be merry, for the night is long. Dost like thy mutton seared, thy ale full strong? TRAVELER: Nay, never hath my lips embraced such fare! The spices sing as faery tongues in mead, And every bite doth bid my soul rejoice. EMMA: Beware, good sir, for those who feast too deep May wake to find their feet not in this world, But ’neath the hills where shadowed courts do dance And nevermore the sun may kiss their brow. TRAVELER (laughing nervously): Thou speakest jests, fair maid. KEVIN FLEMING: Aye, jests she speaks… Or speaketh truth—who knoweth, in this land? Act III: The Night’s Rest [The TRAVELER is led to his chamber, where dim candlelight flickers upon ancient beams. The air is thick with unseen whispers.] MARIANNE: Rest well, dear guest, and mind thy dreams be kind. For here in Mealybrae, the night doth weave A tapestry of wonders dark and deep. [She exits. The TRAVELER lays him down to sleep. Yet, as the clock striketh twelve, a shadow creeps o’er the room. The sound of cackling—EMMA? Or something older still?] TRAVELER (muttering): A queer and haunted place… yet soft, I dream… [The candle dies. The night stretches long. And when the TRAVELER wakes, doth he find himself still in Mealybrae… or lost beyond the veil of mortal ken?] FIN

10/10 experience. Would recommend for the whole family 🥰.