Hosting any party, gathering, wedding, or wake, is a hazardous affair. Nerves get taught as the guest list grows, and the past becomes a dread nemesis of the immediate future, as preparations for the event mature from ideas into reality.
In times past it was how to stop Aunt Edith monopolising the privy, and Uncle Albert showing off his war wounds, that seemed to dominate any gathering my family ever had. Let alone errant farts from father, and the beer running out.
My dear mother would worry so, and my brother would be sent to purchase extra rolls of 'Bronco' and I would be threatened with dire consequences if I in any way asked, or alluded to, the marital exploits of the older generation. Never mind dear old dad being denied his peas pudding and fagots for a week before the event. Subsequently I have tended to over compensate in the entertaining compartment.
Which is why, at any Discworld gathering that I have any responsibility for whatsoever, I am beside myself with need to see that everyone is well fed, watered, and guaranteed a place of easement should the need arise.
Of course lately there have been new worries added to the old. For example, what strange misshapen wound Hodgesarrgh might be disposed to exhibit should someone inadvertently ask how he is, never minding Waddy and his penchant for pickles. But this little event seemed to go as well as we all hoped for. Trevor was worried we would not get enough people to play, that was my least concern. Would there be enough tables, boards, and games was just one of my little worries. Would the tea urn run dry, the chocolates last the day, and would everyone enjoy themselves. That was what was giving Isobel and I the odd sleepless night.
Well, as it was, everybody did seem to have a smile on their face, Terry certainly did, and by the end even Trevor looked almost relaxed, well as relaxed as he ever does, but that's inventors for you. But it wouldn't have been such a gas without everybody doing what they do best, and that's being their own wonderful, eccentric, and really splendid selves. Giving not just their time and money in making the long journey to Somerset, but more importantly, their friendship. What we have all done is not just make a game come true, or made new friends. We made a bit of space in a very silly world that was ours, and ours alone, to share with others of a like mind. Where the world was, for a time flat. Where a good man, in a big black hat, could wander the afternoon away amid friends. Where yet another aspect of Discworld has come to life because of his books, and all our united efforts to get as much fun out of them as he puts in.
So please let me say thank you, and bless you, to all who made it happen. Those that were there, and those who worked behind the scenes, those who played the game, those who shared their laughter. You make it all so easy to do it again. Best wishes to you all.
- Bernard Pearson
The Cunning Artificer
(Oh I got one thing wrong, not enough mustard on Terry's ham sandwiches. If anyone has a recipe for really good Hot mustard let me know, preferably one that needs oven gloves and tongs to hold the pot.)
To acquire your own Thud set and board, please visit our Thud Emporium here on this site.
