The journey back to the farm is pleasant. Farm hands are wrapping up their days tending animals or fields. You hear dinner bells ring in the distance as each farm gathers together to end the day. As you approach the Jenkin's farm you realize it is their bell that is ringing. A more traditional meal is laid out for the extended family and hands. A pig was butchered today. Most of it was salted and prepared for storage. The hams are hung in the cellar encased in salt and Hap's secret herbs. But fresh chops are on the table as well as tenderloin. Mashed potatoes, roasted carrots and apple chutney rounds out the meal. Several large rhubarb pies are brought out for a sweet and tart ending.
Once all of the energy of dinner subsides and the plates are cleaned you have time to settle on the porch to watch the last of the sun’s light disappear on the horizon and the stars come out. Selûne is at half-phase tonight and the Tears twinkle brightly. Which of those is the Rock of Bral you cannot help but wonder. Hap lights up his pipe, offering his pipe weed to you as well, "Well, what news did you all find in town?"
Trolkarl smiles and has a wave of the hand for the offered pipeweed
My thanks, but I will decline. I suspect it would not suit me- besides, I have already found the finest pleasure this evening in the rhubarb pie
He settles in a chair and glances to Chadwick and then back to Hap. Mister Jenkins, I have found your family walks a slower steadier path than most. I envy it- but in my experience we must not let courtesty delay necessity.
There are troubles in the town, Mister Jenkins. A fouled well, no answers. And a mayor that I expect is less ellusive when tax is due. Combined with your son;s troubling dream and the corruption of ale... interesting coincidences.
Pausing
There is one thing more. I noticed the silver chalice, with the vines engraved. Chadwick said it belonged to your father.
May I ask where it came from? What do you know of it
Hap accepts Trolkarl's declining the pipe weed gracefully and listens to his question. "That has been in the family for quite some time. Was given to my father by his grandfather. He was a big deal in Monstordrink back in that day. Mayor of the town for many years. Many said it was he that made our town grow from a backwater collection of hovels to a proper village with a good name in the area," he answers. "The chalice is supposedly a gift from a 'beautiful woman' in recognition of some agreement. If Dad were not so doddering now he could likely tell us more. It has never really been a focus of conversation," he concludes puffing his pipe.
Starker:”Some agreements need regular renewal or or are like leases requiring occassional payment and perhaps renegotiation. Perhaps, unlike the chalice, knowledge of the village’s obligations have not been passed down or have not been passed down uncorrupted by inadvertent error. May we see the chalice and may we hear more if more be known about the agreement?”
Kragen graciously accepts the fine tobacco and pulls out a dwarvish construction with fine carvings of hammer, anvils, with Tyrs scales of justice carved in fine fashion. Stuffing the bowl and lighting, with a grand puff. Then pulls the pipe from his lips and looks at it with pleasure. “A fine tobacco indeed Master Jenkins!” Continues to puff and listen to them talk in contemplation.
when a break comes, asks Master Jenkins.
”Sir, do you know the source of that well? Mayhaps we could find and discern the cause of its brackish nature. I may be able to call upon Tyr and remove its cause?”
Hap nods in recognition of Kragen's appreciation. "Hard to say about any agreement, master wizard," he answers Starker. "That would have been in my great-grandfather's time as mayor, if there was any such thing. Dad has not ever spoken to me of it. Grandad didn't either. Never knew my great-granddad," he adds. Turning to where is dad is sitting on the porch, "Pap!" No response from the old man. "PAP!," he repeats louder. "What do you know about that silver cup on the mantle?," he asks in a strong voice.
The old man startles a bit at the second time he is addressed. "What?! Oh, that," he says and grins a mostly toothless grin. "Grampy Hol gave that to me," he says with eyes that seem more clear than usual. He leans forward in his chair and looks about at all of you and his gaze lands on Chadwick. "I suppose it's time for it to be yours now. Pass it to your grandson and keep the seal. That's what Grampy Hol said to me. He did," he then sits back. His eyes take on a distant look again and he goes back to mumbling to himself, which is more normal for him now.
Hap clutches his pipe between his teeth with raised eyebrows at his dad's reply, "That's the most he has said all month."
Turning back to Kragen, "The wells in town are all fed by a wellspring up in the hills. The water from there is pure and clear. That is why the brewery makes such good ales. The secret is the water."
Xymox Xel’Mizzrym shifts languidly in the creaking porch chair, his fingers absently tracing the carved neck of his violin as he watches the stars. Selûne’s pale face above… the Tears strewn like breadcrumbs left for the desperate. How quaint.
He glances sidelong toward Chadwick and Hap with a half-smile, the kind that suggests both amusement and unease.
"Well then, Master Jenkins," he says softly, voice as smooth as aged wine and twice as sharp. "A silver chalice gifted by a ‘beautiful woman,’ passed through generations like a bedtime story no one dared examine too closely. That does sound like the beginning of a pact, does it not?"
He leans forward just enough that the candlelight catches the violet sheen of his eyes.
"These sorts of stories tend to end in debt, usually unpaid… or forgotten. Until something starts collecting interest."
A pause. The faintest hum escapes his throat—something ancient and minor key—as though the Twisted Tune might join the conversation at any moment.
"This fouled well, this corrupted ale, these troubled dreams—they are not scattered pieces, I think. No. They are echoes, like footsteps in an old ballroom no longer used."
His smile returns, sharper now.
"If this chalice is a seal, then what—or who—is locked away? Or worse... what bargain have you unknowingly inherited, bound by blood, tradition, and indifference?"
He reclines again and lets the silence sit, thick as the pipe smoke curling into the warm farm night.
"Your family is kind, Chadwick. Honest. But I do not believe the enemy is in the town. I believe the enemy may be below it."
And with that, Xymox strikes a single, quiet note on his violin—a sound like the hush before a storm—and turns his gaze skyward once more, as if looking for answers among the stars... or perhaps a sign from Vhaeraun
Xymox sits back and begins to play softly on his violin...
“The Silver Seal” by Xymox Xel’Mizzrym, The Shadow’s Echo
Beneath the moon where secrets swell, A chalice rose from twilight’s well. She came with eyes like starlit wine, and vine. And laced her gift with vow
“Drink deep,” she said, “and fortune flows, But seal this pact where no one knows. Pass down the cup, from blood to breath— And never speak the price of death.”
So now it sits on mantle bare, A ghost of lips that lingered there. The village thrives, the well runs dry— And somewhere still, she waits nearby.
There. A warning dressed in lace. Shall we test the chalice’s truth—or leave it to whisper through generations, waiting for the next fool to sip?
Listening to Master Jenkins, Kragen nods as he puffs on his pipe and admires the deep gray smoke being produced. "Thank you Master Jenkins, may be a place to start and see if the source can be detected."
Looking to Chadwick inquisitively to see how he wants to proceed.
Hap listen's to Xymox's song appreciatively, "I have heard of your people, Xymox. Never did I expect to meet a drow, or be sharing my porch with one. You are quite surprising. And very talented with your fiddle and songs." He takes a puff on his pipe and with two quick puffs blows two smoke rings that interlink with each other, "You also seem quite clever. What do you plan to do next?" He turns to Chadwick, "Well, Chad. Seems that Dad has passed the chalice on to you. Your decision about what you want to do with it now."
Liria walks out onto the porch. "Hap, Terrik and Malleena (Chadwick's uncle and aunt) were here today looking for Tarlin (Chadwick's cousin). Have you seen him here these past few days? They assumed he went out on a hunt last week but he has not returned," she asks her husband.
The chalice radiates Abjuration school of magic when Detect Magic is cast upon it. Following up with Identify reveals no specific power or abilities of the chalice, but instead, a connection to Fey magic.
At the mention of his name Chadwick snaps to, seemingly lost in thought (IE unresponsive player). Chadwick seems a bit taken aback about inheriting the chalice. "Ah Pa, it'll be here on the mantle for decades to come, no need to worry about that now.
I am a bit concerned about Tarling though. Does anyone know where abouts he went? If we are going to be scouting around tomorrow might start around there." A brief pause before continuing. "I was thinking that the Fey Wardens glaive would certainly be helpful with it's abilities of tracking Fey and recalling lore, but if we do meet some fey folk carrying a weapon designed to hunt them it might lead to some misunderstandings, especially if they are annoyed with us already for missing payment or forgetting a debt. Thoughts on if we bring it with us?
We may also want to bring the chalice. Perhaps that will help open dialog. "
Starker:”Fey, in its adjectival sense, connotes unpredictability. The glaive might come in handy if our predictions of their benificence prove mistaken.
”By all means, let us bring the chalice as a tangible token of previous good will.”
The night passes without incident. A new dawn arises with dew on the fields and the farm coming to life. The daily routine has adjusted to the presence of six additional people and breakfast is served with efficiency and the farmhands are off to their duties. Hap asks, "Chad, or any of you, what are you and your friends up to today?"
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The journey back to the farm is pleasant. Farm hands are wrapping up their days tending animals or fields. You hear dinner bells ring in the distance as each farm gathers together to end the day. As you approach the Jenkin's farm you realize it is their bell that is ringing. A more traditional meal is laid out for the extended family and hands. A pig was butchered today. Most of it was salted and prepared for storage. The hams are hung in the cellar encased in salt and Hap's secret herbs. But fresh chops are on the table as well as tenderloin. Mashed potatoes, roasted carrots and apple chutney rounds out the meal. Several large rhubarb pies are brought out for a sweet and tart ending.
Once all of the energy of dinner subsides and the plates are cleaned you have time to settle on the porch to watch the last of the sun’s light disappear on the horizon and the stars come out. Selûne is at half-phase tonight and the Tears twinkle brightly. Which of those is the Rock of Bral you cannot help but wonder. Hap lights up his pipe, offering his pipe weed to you as well, "Well, what news did you all find in town?"
Trolkarl smiles and has a wave of the hand for the offered pipeweed
My thanks, but I will decline. I suspect it would not suit me- besides, I have already found the finest pleasure this evening in the rhubarb pie
He settles in a chair and glances to Chadwick and then back to Hap.
Mister Jenkins, I have found your family walks a slower steadier path than most. I envy it- but in my experience we must not let courtesty delay necessity.
There are troubles in the town, Mister Jenkins. A fouled well, no answers. And a mayor that I expect is less ellusive when tax is due. Combined with your son;s troubling dream and the corruption of ale... interesting coincidences.
Pausing
There is one thing more. I noticed the silver chalice, with the vines engraved. Chadwick said it belonged to your father.
May I ask where it came from? What do you know of it
Hap accepts Trolkarl's declining the pipe weed gracefully and listens to his question. "That has been in the family for quite some time. Was given to my father by his grandfather. He was a big deal in Monstordrink back in that day. Mayor of the town for many years. Many said it was he that made our town grow from a backwater collection of hovels to a proper village with a good name in the area," he answers. "The chalice is supposedly a gift from a 'beautiful woman' in recognition of some agreement. If Dad were not so doddering now he could likely tell us more. It has never really been a focus of conversation," he concludes puffing his pipe.
Starker:”Some agreements need regular renewal or or are like leases requiring occassional payment and perhaps renegotiation. Perhaps, unlike the chalice, knowledge of the village’s obligations have not been passed down or have not been passed down uncorrupted by inadvertent error. May we see the chalice and may we hear more if more be known about the agreement?”
Kragen graciously accepts the fine tobacco and pulls out a dwarvish construction with fine carvings of hammer, anvils, with Tyrs scales of justice carved in fine fashion. Stuffing the bowl and lighting, with a grand puff. Then pulls the pipe from his lips and looks at it with pleasure. “A fine tobacco indeed Master Jenkins!” Continues to puff and listen to them talk in contemplation.
when a break comes, asks Master Jenkins.
”Sir, do you know the source of that well? Mayhaps we could find and discern the cause of its brackish nature. I may be able to call upon Tyr and remove its cause?”
Hap nods in recognition of Kragen's appreciation. "Hard to say about any agreement, master wizard," he answers Starker. "That would have been in my great-grandfather's time as mayor, if there was any such thing. Dad has not ever spoken to me of it. Grandad didn't either. Never knew my great-granddad," he adds. Turning to where is dad is sitting on the porch, "Pap!" No response from the old man. "PAP!," he repeats louder. "What do you know about that silver cup on the mantle?," he asks in a strong voice.
The old man startles a bit at the second time he is addressed. "What?! Oh, that," he says and grins a mostly toothless grin. "Grampy Hol gave that to me," he says with eyes that seem more clear than usual. He leans forward in his chair and looks about at all of you and his gaze lands on Chadwick. "I suppose it's time for it to be yours now. Pass it to your grandson and keep the seal. That's what Grampy Hol said to me. He did," he then sits back. His eyes take on a distant look again and he goes back to mumbling to himself, which is more normal for him now.
Hap clutches his pipe between his teeth with raised eyebrows at his dad's reply, "That's the most he has said all month."
Turning back to Kragen, "The wells in town are all fed by a wellspring up in the hills. The water from there is pure and clear. That is why the brewery makes such good ales. The secret is the water."
Xymox Xel’Mizzrym shifts languidly in the creaking porch chair, his fingers absently tracing the carved neck of his violin as he watches the stars. Selûne’s pale face above… the Tears strewn like breadcrumbs left for the desperate. How quaint.
He glances sidelong toward Chadwick and Hap with a half-smile, the kind that suggests both amusement and unease.
He leans forward just enough that the candlelight catches the violet sheen of his eyes.
A pause. The faintest hum escapes his throat—something ancient and minor key—as though the Twisted Tune might join the conversation at any moment.
His smile returns, sharper now.
He reclines again and lets the silence sit, thick as the pipe smoke curling into the warm farm night.
And with that, Xymox strikes a single, quiet note on his violin—a sound like the hush before a storm—and turns his gaze skyward once more, as if looking for answers among the stars... or perhaps a sign from Vhaeraun
Xymox sits back and begins to play softly on his violin...
“The Silver Seal”
by Xymox Xel’Mizzrym, The Shadow’s Echo
There. A warning dressed in lace. Shall we test the chalice’s truth—or leave it to whisper through generations, waiting for the next fool to sip?
Listening to Master Jenkins, Kragen nods as he puffs on his pipe and admires the deep gray smoke being produced. "Thank you Master Jenkins, may be a place to start and see if the source can be detected."
Looking to Chadwick inquisitively to see how he wants to proceed.
Hap listen's to Xymox's song appreciatively, "I have heard of your people, Xymox. Never did I expect to meet a drow, or be sharing my porch with one. You are quite surprising. And very talented with your fiddle and songs." He takes a puff on his pipe and with two quick puffs blows two smoke rings that interlink with each other, "You also seem quite clever. What do you plan to do next?" He turns to Chadwick, "Well, Chad. Seems that Dad has passed the chalice on to you. Your decision about what you want to do with it now."
Liria walks out onto the porch. "Hap, Terrik and Malleena (Chadwick's uncle and aunt) were here today looking for Tarlin (Chadwick's cousin). Have you seen him here these past few days? They assumed he went out on a hunt last week but he has not returned," she asks her husband.
(Proposal: detect magic on the chalice followed by identify, if warranted.)
I think that is a sound proposal.
The chalice radiates Abjuration school of magic when Detect Magic is cast upon it. Following up with Identify reveals no specific power or abilities of the chalice, but instead, a connection to Fey magic.
At the mention of his name Chadwick snaps to, seemingly lost in thought (IE unresponsive player). Chadwick seems a bit taken aback about inheriting the chalice. "Ah Pa, it'll be here on the mantle for decades to come, no need to worry about that now.
I am a bit concerned about Tarling though. Does anyone know where abouts he went? If we are going to be scouting around tomorrow might start around there."
A brief pause before continuing.
"I was thinking that the Fey Wardens glaive would certainly be helpful with it's abilities of tracking Fey and recalling lore, but if we do meet some fey folk carrying a weapon designed to hunt them it might lead to some misunderstandings, especially if they are annoyed with us already for missing payment or forgetting a debt. Thoughts on if we bring it with us?
We may also want to bring the chalice. Perhaps that will help open dialog. "
Starker:”Fey, in its adjectival sense, connotes unpredictability. The glaive might come in handy if our predictions of their benificence prove mistaken.
”By all means, let us bring the chalice as a tangible token of previous good will.”
It is now late evening. Any other actions this day, or, turn in for the night?
Prior to retiring for the evening, during pre-bed prayer activities, Kragen confers with Tyr on path forward.
Ritual Cast Divination
Asks "Will searching for Chadwick's cousin Tarlin, lead us to answers about the Jenkins Chalice and the supposed agreement with Grampy Hol?"
Yes
"Starker, you still have the fishbowl? Perhaps our fishy friend might have some clues? And good points about the glaive.
Xymox, do you have any skill in tracking? If not I'll go ahead and attune it tonight."
The night passes without incident. A new dawn arises with dew on the fields and the farm coming to life. The daily routine has adjusted to the presence of six additional people and breakfast is served with efficiency and the farmhands are off to their duties. Hap asks, "Chad, or any of you, what are you and your friends up to today?"