“Brother!” A gaggle, no, a veritable horde of children swarmed out of the orphanage door, doing to Brenn as those in Amistad had done to Tyr and Samson. Hanging from his limbs like a tree and laughing madly. None of them had known how close and in touch Brenn had remained with his old home, only Tythas did – it wasn't exactly dinner table conversation and he wasn't here. Brenn was secretive in this way. It also helped to explain why he'd been so quick to exonerate Tyr of his wrongdoings, despite the obvious breach in how a paladin was expected to act, in step with their version of divine law. “Have you brought us gifts?”
“Of course.” Brenn smiled, presenting them with all sorts of goodies from Amistad. Little nick-knacks or toys curated for each child individually. Testament to his generosity and thoughtfulness considering there were easily over forty children present. There were others there, older boys and girls who waited patiently at the side to be addressed by their senior and benefactor. Kriegstad was a city motivated by money, not good deeds, but Brenn was different – and they loved him for that. To grow up a thug, a violent enforcer in employ of the Locket at the ripe age of 13, to one day become such a notable member of the faith. Brennwulf used to scowl a lot back then, but all he had for them now were happy smiles and endless gifts. “How have you all been?”
“They've been swell.” Mother Jennifer patted his head gently. Old and gray, short enough to appear another child before his sturdy frame. And yet she'd never ceased to amaze him with how tiny she still made him feel. Even after all these years, as good a mother as anyone was going to get, biological or not. “We're happy to see you in person. It's been over a year, you should visit more – family is important.”
“I know.” Brenn smiled, digging the toe of his boot into the ground and looking about the courtyard bashfully. Little more than a lot of dirt offset from the alleyway that split the streets, a small private yard of sorts shared by many of the nearby buildings. And by the happy waves he was receiving from many of their elderly occupants above, Alex knew that he must be quite familiar with the people who lived here.
This was his neighborhood, and Brenn inspired. He was that kind of man, working over 40 hours a week on top of his studies to ensure that his family was taken care of. It wasn't easy, not for a commoner like Brenn, knight or not he still lacked channels and had never asked for help. None of them had known, but Alex planned to do something about that.
“This was why you came to Kriegstad?” Magnus asked with a confused look. One of the children was staring at his curly Agoronian locks with wonder, playing with her own. Must've not seen many of her own ethnicity in these parts, wonderment and a wild blush, communicating how smitten she must be with the handsome and athletic man towering over her. “I thought Alex said we had important business here? Not that this isn't important business, if you need help all you have to do is ask, but...”
“We do.” Alex chided. “This is just a stop on our way. Be patient, I would not have called on you if it was anything small.”
“I grew up in a place like this.” Micah mused, happy to see the warm and bustling environment of the orphanage, well fed and decently clothed by their eldest brother. He'd been adopted by a family, and Brenn had not, against all odds – though the Inquisition had seen to that once he'd been discarded as a failure. It must've been hard, watching his brothers and sisters disappear, going to new families while he remained behind. And yet still he'd become the benefactor of this place. Keeping them boarded comfortably, never even mentioning the fact that he was responsible for it all. It took a lot of work to see that done all by his lonesome, Micah had never properly given thought to why Brenn was always so busy. Land in cities, especially Kriegstad had to be expensive, and land that generated passive income by both rent and government subsidy would carry a far higher price than just the parcel itself in terms of real-estate. “This place is like a castle compared to where I grew up, and it's all because of Brenn. I'm glad we got to see it.”
“You're right.” Magnus nodded curtly. “I meant no insult.”
“Oh!” Jennifer cried, making a show of it. She was quite the boisterous woman, wide at the waist and well fed. Tender, red in the cheeks, everything one might expect from a consummate caretaker, and the children were no less healthy than she was. Chubby cheeked and energetic, all of them. “How rude of me, you must be the companions of our dear Brennwulf. Pleased to meet you, I have heard so much. I am Jennifer, you can leave out the mother. I don't do this for the titles.”
“Why do you do it?” Astrid asked, rather brusquely. A bit rude, all considered, but as usual her tone was bright and cheery to add contrast to that.
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“For the children, of course.” Jennifer bubbled with laughter. “Some women just aren't meant to have their own. Ghastly thing, cervical cancer, but the gods saw me through it – and now here I am! As happy as a plum and just as round. It's not much, but it's a good living. We've produced many mages here at my orphanage, and my Brenny will ensure that our name is never forgotten. Such a sweet and kind boy, but you already knew that.”
“Mother...” Brenn blushed violently, earning a chuckle from the women and a sidelong look of surprise from the men. Everyone had their secrets, the little nuances that made them a person, they supposed.
“We did.” Micah smiled, bowing awkwardly. His 'mother' hadn't been nearly as kind or cheerful, feeling a bit jealous in this situation all told. No big brothers for him when he went hungry, but he was happy for Brenn in any event, and proud of him. “Thank you for everything you do. People like you are rare in this world.”
“They are indeed, especially these days.” Jennifer's expression darkened. “But the gods look after us, see us fit and well, gave Brenny his gifts and here he is ensuring we can fill our bellies for another month. How awful it is, that they've ended subsidies to the orphanages and young men have to take the burden on themselves. A damned shame, pardon my language, but you didn't come here for all of that either! How would you like one of my famous barley cakes, eh?”
Round she was, but she was pretty, with bright eyes and a charm that ran wholly independently from her looks. Middle aged at a minimum, a soft and gentle individual with a big heart, likely where Brenn had gotten his from. Eventually.
“They're delicious.” Brenn smiled. “You won't be disappointed.”
“You're right.” Alex responded with a hard look about her. “We didn't come here for that, or to eat barley cakes. We came here to purchase and sponsor this orphanage if you'd have us.”
“...” The yard grew silent all of a sudden, the mother herself paling at the face before recovering her natural charisma and tutting. “No need for that, my lady, as you can see we are well enough on our own. Best not to make enemies of the contract holders. While I appreciate your offer, it's a bit more complicated than that, they do not sell land on a whim in the Krieg. Even given your... Royal personage, yes?”
“I'm not purchasing it.” Alex replied evenly. “Tyr Faeron, second prince of Haran is. As for the 'Locket', those irrelevant hoodlums, I'd be more than happy to handle them myself. Magnus, Sigi, let's go see what kind of 'bargain' we're able to come to with our gnomish acquaintance.”
“I'm coming!” Astrid cried, chasing after them, Brenn frowning at their backs. Micah tried to limp in their direction, but Brenn managed to catch him – he wasn't exactly fast when he'd been walking for so long a period. Ayla and Jura had gone their own way, but they were still here and he was sure the girls would contact them and link up before doing anything rash. If nothing else, Ayla would make a big enough mess that it'd all get blamed on Tyr and the orphanage would have no complicity in their actions.
“Leave it.” Brenn was conflicted, he wanted to join them but knew that he shouldn't. Once Alex made her mind up, she wasn't so different from Tyr himself, stubbornness beyond reason. And Sigi was just a bull in a porcelain shop at times to add to the comparisons. “Do you want something to eat? I'm not lying when I say she's a phenomenal cook, given what little she has access to.”
“I'd love to.” Micah smiled, noting how even without asking, the mother of the house stepped in the way Brenn would to support his arm so that his trip to the dining area wasn't so trying on him. The braces were great but significantly inferior to the armor he normally wore, but that set wasn't something he used on long trips for obvious reasons. It had a lot of features but armoring up would draw too much attention. Due to the engineering components and fine servos, it wasn't something he could flick his wrist to summon like the ladies' kit, suiting up took nearly an hour even with help. “You don't think this is going to end up biting us in the a... Er, rear end, do you?”
“They are princesses of one of the most powerful nations on the continent. They are well trained in diplomacy, court manners, and business acumen. They know... Well...” Brenn squinted, chewing the side of his cheek. “I'm sure it'll... Be fine? Yep, you're right, we should follow them.”
“Yeah... Food first though?”
“No, Micah.”
“Grab a barley cake on your way out!” Jennifer called with a wide smile. “It was so nice to meet you, come again!”
“Bye bye!” The children echoed her sentiments, such a warm and friendly family Brenn had here.
“Hey, these aren't bad!” Micah cried, shoving the entire cake into his mouth and looking immediately regretful at not taking his time with it.
“Told you.” Brenn smirked, pride bursting in his heart as he assisted Micah down the street with his powerful arms.