It is a short ride on from Monstordrink to the Jenkins' Farm. The town itself looks fairly cozy up against the side of the forested hill. A small river runs beside the town that is large enough to support small boats. You see several pole rafts as well as oared boats and a sail or two moving up and down the river. A central stone tower sits before the central square of town. There is a low wall surrounding the town and a guard house on the town side of the bridge crossing the river. People are moving about town taking care of the day-to-day business typical of a small village. You can see that humans and dwarves are settled here. It seems to be idyllic, yet, something seems off. You are not able to pick it out and identify it. But, there is a feeling of something not being right.
Heading NE you pass through rolling hills with small farms scattered about. As you crest a hill you see a ranch about a mile ahead of you. There is a main house with tow smaller houses set nearby. A large barn sits away from the houses with two low, long buildings to one side. There are fences creating paddocks containing cows and sheep. Many chickens are roaming about as well. Several people can be seen around the animals and barns. A thin column of smoke rises from the main chimney of the larger house. It looks like the animals are being brought into the barns for the evening as the sun nears the horizon.
Seeing his family farm Chadwick urges Freya into a gallop and races towards the house to great annoyance to the chickens who scatter and scold him. Freya isn't even fully stopped before he jumps from the saddle and runs into the house.
(Xymox steps through the village gates of Monstordrink, eyes flitting with wonder over the crooked chimneys, mossy rooftops, and a goat inexplicably perched atop a barrel. He inhales deeply, then exhales with a wistful smile.)
“Ah, Monstordrink. A name that inspires either dread or indigestion. Look at it—charmingly uneven streets, a suspicious lack of windows, and that ever-present scent of smoked trout and poor decisions. Gods, I love the surface.”
(He glances back at The Company.)
“Let’s try not to burn it down. At least not on the first night.”
(As the Company crests the gentle hill and the Jenkins family farm rolls into view—fields bathed in gold, a barn weathered by time, and a breeze carrying the scent of hay and earth—Xymox slows, his violet eyes wide with something like awe.)
“By the Spider Queen’s eight legs… it’s vast. Look at it—no stone ceiling pressing down, no shadows clinging to every corner. Just sky. And air that doesn’t taste like lichen and despair.”
(He takes a slow breath, the wind ruffling his cloak, a rare softness in his voice.)
“I’ve seen kingdoms below the earth, but never anything so… open. Farms. Honest living. It’s almost unsettling. I think I like it.”
(Then, a glance toward Chadwick, with a grin creeping in.)
“If your kin don’t try to burn me for being a Drow, I may even compliment the livestock.”
Starker:”Friend Chadwick, I notice many small children about, seemingly far too many to be needed for the economy to thrive. Do you know of any family that would be happy to have one fewer? There is an experiment I am anxious to try and I think the answer will be gained more quickly if the subject is not very massive to start. I’d use Cyrus, but I am already in the middle of an experiment with him as the subject and would be concerned about confounding the results.”
The Company covers the ground between them and the Jenkins' family farm. It seems that people have erupted from all over the place to greet Chadwick. As Starker has observed, there are a dozen small children or more currently swarming their older cousin/uncle/brother-uncle as the case may be. An older woman and man have already hugged him and are standing by with teary eyes. Several of the farmhands are now emerging from the barns now that the animals are safely tucked away for the night.
When you near, the older woman exclaims, "Pinky! Are these the friends you have been writing about?" She turns to all of you as you are dismounting, "I feel that I already know every one of you!" Before any introductions can be made by any of you or Chadwick she continues on, "No, no. Let me guess." She walks over to you and starts applying names and faces to the stories she has heard. "Well you must be Trolkarl," she says to him. "Do I need to address you as His Lordship? Oh my, where are my manners...," she says as she curtsies. "Please be welcome in our humble home, Your Lordship." She then moves to the dwarves, "Let me see." She looks back and forth and says to Kragen, "You must be Hoid. Pinky, he does not look nearly as hideous or sour as you describe him." She then turns to Hoid, "And you must be Kragen, Pinky's brother in arms and spirit. Thank you kind sir for all you do for the world and the good works that you perform with Pinky at your side." She moves along before the dwarves can respond to stand before Starker, and his staff, exclaiming, "Oh my." Looking the mind flayer's skull in the eye sockets, "What is....or was.....that? Pinky, I thought you said the wizard working for you was a 'little guy'?" She turns to him for a brief moment, but before anyone can answer looks back to Starker, "We don't get many gnomes around these parts. Mostly us people, dwarves and elves. And certainly not any with such a cute little friend on their shoulders." She adds the last part pulling a fresh plum from her apron and hands it to Cyrus. Cyrus accepts the fruit with a small bow and greedily begins to devour it. She finally makes her way in front of Xymox, "Well, you ARE an interesting young man, aren't you?" This said to someone likely older than her grandparents would be if still alive. "Pinky has not mentioned you at all. Why have you left your interesting friend out of your letters?," she asks Chadwick and then turns back to Xymox, "Or, are you a different kind of gnome than your other friend? It doesn't matter a whit around here. As long as you work hard and don't stir up trouble everyone is welcome in Monstordrink." She stands beaming at all of you, finally not talking.
Hoid to the rude human woman, “Mistress Jenkins, I am no servant of Tyr. That makes me the one Pinky has described as ugly: Hoid, slayer of the shadow dragon of Deep Wave Mine.” Hoid does not bow, genuflect or anything similar.
Starker:”This is the skull of a mindflayer I put to sleep and then killed. You may know them by the name they call themselves, illithids. Notice how the bone thickens where their tentacles were attached around their mouths. That was how they were able to keep such a grip on their victims while they consumed their cranial contents. Also note the suturing of the bones at the top and back of the skull. The arrangement allows for their skulls to grow along with the satiation of their fell appetite. Truly fascinating. Mind you, I am no phenologist, I can not tell you if he was artistic or phlegmatic by these bumps, but I can tell you he was a well designed brain eating mechanism.
”Thank you for asking, and Cyrus thanks you for the plum.”
Starker:”Friend Chadwick, I notice many small children about, seemingly far too many to be needed for the economy to thrive. Do you know of any family that would be happy to have one fewer? There is an experiment I am anxious to try and I think the answer will be gained more quickly if the subject is not very massive to start. I’d use Cyrus, but I am already in the middle of an experiment with him as the subject and would be concerned about confounding the results.”
Kragen frowns at Starker and grumbles “Mayhaps you will be the next experiment, trying to survive our next encounter without Tyr’s blessing or protection. Would be interesting to see if you can regenerate from a mortal wound?? Remember that as you decide how to conduct and who you conduct future experiments on!”
”Mage, your choices have lacked wisdom of late. Maybe on opportunity for reflection and prayer.”
Turns and smiles seeing Chadwick’s joy at being home.
Kragen smiles at the senile human matriarch. “Mistress Jenkins, I am Kragen Gravelbeard. Your kind words warm my heart. May Tyr bless this household.” Gives her a formal dwarven bow.
<Starker is taken aback by Kragen’s words, saddened and uncomprehending of each of the tone, the assertion, and the suggestion. He thought everyone would be supportive and also impressed with his politeness in asking which child might be available and also with the generosity with which he responded to Mrs. Jenkins’ inquiry about the skull. After a moment he turns away dejectedly from the group and he and Cyrus go back to where the horses and pack animals are. Starker sits down and continues his task of many days - copying spells into his spellbook’s backup copy.>
Trolkarl bows his head slightly and places his hand to his chest.
You honor me, madam Jenkins. It has been a bit of time since “his lordship” has been a used to address me during my travels. I am most grateful for the courtesy and the welcome.
My homeland was held in a darkness for generations. Through no small part of you son,Tyr’s champion, the people may now know peace. His generosity to the orphanages of the realms is unmatched. You have raised a man of principle. We are fortunate to see the place and meet the family that have forged him.
Once the introductions are made, Ma Jenkins gets the situation organized and in motion. Several of the young women are sent to the garden to pick some more fresh greens. Another heads off to find a few chickens and the men take your animals to the barn. Pa Jenkins is a quiet man who nods at each of you in turn as his wife is greeting you. He is a wiry man in his advancing years with gray stubble on his chin and silvery white hair on his head. He looks to be made of nails. He and his wife then lead you to the main house to get ready for supper. The main room isn't big enough for everyone with your unexpected arrival, but, the weather is pleasant. Tables, benches and chairs are moved out to the yard and supper is arranged there while you all clean up from the road. There aren't rooms enough for all of you in the house so some of you a put to the bunk house with the hands. Trolkarl is offered Ma and Pa Jenkins own room given his station.
The house is a typical farmhouse for the area. It is large with several additions that have been tacked on. The main room has a lofty ceiling with log rafters and a stairwell leading up to a landing. Several bedrooms are located upstairs. There is a main room, dining room and kitchen off the back of the house. To the opposite side of the living room is a comfortable room with several stuffed chairs, a large fireplace with a granite mantle and taxidermy deer and a bear's head on the walls.
Supper is served. Ma Jenkins has supplemented their usual fare of roasted pig and root vegetables with a fresh salad from the garden and a few chickens fried in the pan to make up for the unexpected guests. A fresh keg of Monstordrink Mist is brought out. "I've had this in the cellar from before the issues," Chadwick's father states. Nods all around the table from the adults after his comment. Dinner is good. It is simple farm fare cooked from ingredients that were likely underfoot yesterday. The sun sets and lanterns are brought out. The children of the families are playing around the yard with carefree laughter. Dishes are cleared from the table. Pa Jenkins walks into the house and returns with a pouch and a pipe. "I have some nice pipeweed from a merchant that came through a few weeks ago. Please help yourselves," he offers setting the pouch onto the table after taking a small pinch for his pipe. He lights it with a straw lit from one of the lanterns and puffs appreciatively. "What news do you have to share?," he asks as the rest of you settle in.
After the delicious meal provided, Xymox takes his violin from it's case and begins to play...
"The Light of the Plow: A Ballad for Sir Chadwick and the Jenkins Hearth" or "Ode to Chadwick's mom" as performed by Xymox Xel’Mizzrym, Bard of House Xel’Mizzrym, Friend of The Company, and Occasional Dancer When the Ale Hits Right (Set to a gentle, lilting violin melody with a warm fireside rhythm.)
Verse I Oh gather round, good folk and kin, where golden fields do sway, Where kindness grows like apple trees and night gives birth to day. A farmstead rests ‘neath open skies, with walls both worn and wide, And in its heart, the Jenkins stand—with Chadwick at their side.
Verse II Sir Chadwick, bold with banner bright, though battle’s scars he bears, Was forged not just in steel and flame—but in a mother’s care. She raised him strong, with gentle hands, a heart both brave and wise, And in her gaze, the stars still burn that taught him where truth lies.
Chorus So raise your cups to plow and song, to roots that do not roam, To fields of gold and tales retold, and hearts that feel like home. For though he rides ‘neath banner sworn, through fire, fear, and strife— The soul of Chadwick rides no less… from Jenkins farm to life.
Verse III The little ones come swarming fast, like bees to blooming vine, And in their joy, a tale is told—a legacy in time. The laughter here, the open arms, the bread, the warm embrace— These are the spells no mage can cast, no king can dare replace.
Final Chorus So sing, ye stars, and hum, ye fields, and dance, you twilit skies— For in this humble patch of earth, a noble spirit lies. Not clad in gold, but honest sweat, and family’s gentle hand… Sir Chadwick of the Jenkins farm—a lion of the land.
Kragen looks at his Monsterdrink and frowns, remembering the last one he had, however caustiously takes a drink. Hearing the Drow lilt into a melody, begins to tap his fingers on the table to the rhythm, smiles.
“Mister Jenkins, you asked for news. As none of my more eloquent colleagues have chosen to answer your query, and Starker has rightly chosen silence, let me answer: we have no news that is relevant in the way I suspect you are asking. Tall tales abound by which we could stoke our own egos, but we know nothing of the troubles we suspect to be occurring here.
We were far to the northwest having a celebration and rest when we quaffed a keg of Monstordrink brew that had gone bad and Pinky simultaneously received a letter explaining something to be amiss here. We proceeded here with all due haste. So I turn the question back on you: what is amiss here? I am sure Pinky is glad to see his kin, but the rest of us are here with a more business-like agenda. Can you point us in the direction of what is troubling this place?”
Xymox's song is greeted with much delight. The children gather closer and run about a little less as they listen to the music. Many pick up the tune and tap their feet or fingers along with the rhythm. A cheer goes up after the last verse and all raise their mugs, "To Ma Jenkins!!" Timing is everything is the world of entertaining people. Xymox spotted her about to exit the house with a tray full of sweetened breads and other treats. The cheer erupts just as she exits the door. Even in the fading light you can see her blushing as she carries the tray laden with goodies out to the table. The children are remarkably restrained and form an orderly procession, waiting for the adults to select a treat first. A cousin of Chadwick's, Tommum(?), pretends to have trouble deciding on which to select as the first to do so. Then backs away and gives the kids first choice. All laugh and the children depart, enjoying their sweet treats.
The old man listens to Hoid's statement and holds his gaze for a moment longer than is comfortable. "Only his mother calls him that," he says flatly. "He has trained as a Knight and earned the right to be respected for that." He takes a puff on his pipe and puffs out two concentric rings. Watching them float off into the night, he continues, "There is some kind of stir afoot in town. Out here, all is fine and as it should be."
It is a short ride on from Monstordrink to the Jenkins' Farm. The town itself looks fairly cozy up against the side of the forested hill. A small river runs beside the town that is large enough to support small boats. You see several pole rafts as well as oared boats and a sail or two moving up and down the river. A central stone tower sits before the central square of town. There is a low wall surrounding the town and a guard house on the town side of the bridge crossing the river. People are moving about town taking care of the day-to-day business typical of a small village. You can see that humans and dwarves are settled here. It seems to be idyllic, yet, something seems off. You are not able to pick it out and identify it. But, there is a feeling of something not being right.
Heading NE you pass through rolling hills with small farms scattered about. As you crest a hill you see a ranch about a mile ahead of you. There is a main house with tow smaller houses set nearby. A large barn sits away from the houses with two low, long buildings to one side. There are fences creating paddocks containing cows and sheep. Many chickens are roaming about as well. Several people can be seen around the animals and barns. A thin column of smoke rises from the main chimney of the larger house. It looks like the animals are being brought into the barns for the evening as the sun nears the horizon.
Seeing his family farm Chadwick urges Freya into a gallop and races towards the house to great annoyance to the chickens who scatter and scold him. Freya isn't even fully stopped before he jumps from the saddle and runs into the house.
(Xymox steps through the village gates of Monstordrink, eyes flitting with wonder over the crooked chimneys, mossy rooftops, and a goat inexplicably perched atop a barrel. He inhales deeply, then exhales with a wistful smile.)
(He glances back at The Company.)
(As the Company crests the gentle hill and the Jenkins family farm rolls into view—fields bathed in gold, a barn weathered by time, and a breeze carrying the scent of hay and earth—Xymox slows, his violet eyes wide with something like awe.)
(He takes a slow breath, the wind ruffling his cloak, a rare softness in his voice.)
(Then, a glance toward Chadwick, with a grin creeping in.)
Starker:”Friend Chadwick, I notice many small children about, seemingly far too many to be needed for the economy to thrive. Do you know of any family that would be happy to have one fewer? There is an experiment I am anxious to try and I think the answer will be gained more quickly if the subject is not very massive to start. I’d use Cyrus, but I am already in the middle of an experiment with him as the subject and would be concerned about confounding the results.”
“Starker, methinks you place too little value on free labor.”
The Company covers the ground between them and the Jenkins' family farm. It seems that people have erupted from all over the place to greet Chadwick. As Starker has observed, there are a dozen small children or more currently swarming their older cousin/uncle/brother-uncle as the case may be. An older woman and man have already hugged him and are standing by with teary eyes. Several of the farmhands are now emerging from the barns now that the animals are safely tucked away for the night.
When you near, the older woman exclaims, "Pinky! Are these the friends you have been writing about?" She turns to all of you as you are dismounting, "I feel that I already know every one of you!" Before any introductions can be made by any of you or Chadwick she continues on, "No, no. Let me guess." She walks over to you and starts applying names and faces to the stories she has heard. "Well you must be Trolkarl," she says to him. "Do I need to address you as His Lordship? Oh my, where are my manners...," she says as she curtsies. "Please be welcome in our humble home, Your Lordship." She then moves to the dwarves, "Let me see." She looks back and forth and says to Kragen, "You must be Hoid. Pinky, he does not look nearly as hideous or sour as you describe him." She then turns to Hoid, "And you must be Kragen, Pinky's brother in arms and spirit. Thank you kind sir for all you do for the world and the good works that you perform with Pinky at your side." She moves along before the dwarves can respond to stand before Starker, and his staff, exclaiming, "Oh my." Looking the mind flayer's skull in the eye sockets, "What is....or was.....that? Pinky, I thought you said the wizard working for you was a 'little guy'?" She turns to him for a brief moment, but before anyone can answer looks back to Starker, "We don't get many gnomes around these parts. Mostly us people, dwarves and elves. And certainly not any with such a cute little friend on their shoulders." She adds the last part pulling a fresh plum from her apron and hands it to Cyrus. Cyrus accepts the fruit with a small bow and greedily begins to devour it. She finally makes her way in front of Xymox, "Well, you ARE an interesting young man, aren't you?" This said to someone likely older than her grandparents would be if still alive. "Pinky has not mentioned you at all. Why have you left your interesting friend out of your letters?," she asks Chadwick and then turns back to Xymox, "Or, are you a different kind of gnome than your other friend? It doesn't matter a whit around here. As long as you work hard and don't stir up trouble everyone is welcome in Monstordrink." She stands beaming at all of you, finally not talking.
Hoid to the rude human woman, “Mistress Jenkins, I am no servant of Tyr. That makes me the one Pinky has described as ugly: Hoid, slayer of the shadow dragon of Deep Wave Mine.” Hoid does not bow, genuflect or anything similar.
Starker:”This is the skull of a mindflayer I put to sleep and then killed. You may know them by the name they call themselves, illithids. Notice how the bone thickens where their tentacles were attached around their mouths. That was how they were able to keep such a grip on their victims while they consumed their cranial contents. Also note the suturing of the bones at the top and back of the skull. The arrangement allows for their skulls to grow along with the satiation of their fell appetite. Truly fascinating. Mind you, I am no phenologist, I can not tell you if he was artistic or phlegmatic by these bumps, but I can tell you he was a well designed brain eating mechanism.
”Thank you for asking, and Cyrus thanks you for the plum.”
(Xymox offers a graceful bow, the corners of his mouth curled in amused politeness as the matron regards him.)
(He casts a glance at Chadwick, then back with a grin.)
(A beat, then with sincere warmth.)
Kragen frowns at Starker and grumbles “Mayhaps you will be the next experiment, trying to survive our next encounter without Tyr’s blessing or protection. Would be interesting to see if you can regenerate from a mortal wound?? Remember that as you decide how to conduct and who you conduct future experiments on!”
”Mage, your choices have lacked wisdom of late. Maybe on opportunity for reflection and prayer.”
Turns and smiles seeing Chadwick’s joy at being home.
Kragen smiles at the senile human matriarch. “Mistress Jenkins, I am Kragen Gravelbeard. Your kind words warm my heart. May Tyr bless this household.” Gives her a formal dwarven bow.
<Starker is taken aback by Kragen’s words, saddened and uncomprehending of each of the tone, the assertion, and the suggestion. He thought everyone would be supportive and also impressed with his politeness in asking which child might be available and also with the generosity with which he responded to Mrs. Jenkins’ inquiry about the skull. After a moment he turns away dejectedly from the group and he and Cyrus go back to where the horses and pack animals are. Starker sits down and continues his task of many days - copying spells into his spellbook’s backup copy.>
Trolkarl bows his head slightly and places his hand to his chest.
You honor me, madam Jenkins. It has been a bit of time since “his lordship” has been a used to address me during my travels. I am most grateful for the courtesy and the welcome.
My homeland was held in a darkness for generations. Through no small part of you son,Tyr’s champion, the people may now know peace. His generosity to the orphanages of the realms is unmatched. You have raised a man of principle. We are fortunate to see the place and meet the family that have forged him.
Once the introductions are made, Ma Jenkins gets the situation organized and in motion. Several of the young women are sent to the garden to pick some more fresh greens. Another heads off to find a few chickens and the men take your animals to the barn. Pa Jenkins is a quiet man who nods at each of you in turn as his wife is greeting you. He is a wiry man in his advancing years with gray stubble on his chin and silvery white hair on his head. He looks to be made of nails. He and his wife then lead you to the main house to get ready for supper. The main room isn't big enough for everyone with your unexpected arrival, but, the weather is pleasant. Tables, benches and chairs are moved out to the yard and supper is arranged there while you all clean up from the road. There aren't rooms enough for all of you in the house so some of you a put to the bunk house with the hands. Trolkarl is offered Ma and Pa Jenkins own room given his station.
The house is a typical farmhouse for the area. It is large with several additions that have been tacked on. The main room has a lofty ceiling with log rafters and a stairwell leading up to a landing. Several bedrooms are located upstairs. There is a main room, dining room and kitchen off the back of the house. To the opposite side of the living room is a comfortable room with several stuffed chairs, a large fireplace with a granite mantle and taxidermy deer and a bear's head on the walls.
Supper is served. Ma Jenkins has supplemented their usual fare of roasted pig and root vegetables with a fresh salad from the garden and a few chickens fried in the pan to make up for the unexpected guests. A fresh keg of Monstordrink Mist is brought out. "I've had this in the cellar from before the issues," Chadwick's father states. Nods all around the table from the adults after his comment. Dinner is good. It is simple farm fare cooked from ingredients that were likely underfoot yesterday. The sun sets and lanterns are brought out. The children of the families are playing around the yard with carefree laughter. Dishes are cleared from the table. Pa Jenkins walks into the house and returns with a pouch and a pipe. "I have some nice pipeweed from a merchant that came through a few weeks ago. Please help yourselves," he offers setting the pouch onto the table after taking a small pinch for his pipe. He lights it with a straw lit from one of the lanterns and puffs appreciatively. "What news do you have to share?," he asks as the rest of you settle in.
After the delicious meal provided, Xymox takes his violin from it's case and begins to play...
"The Light of the Plow: A Ballad for Sir Chadwick and the Jenkins Hearth" or "Ode to Chadwick's mom"
as performed by Xymox Xel’Mizzrym, Bard of House Xel’Mizzrym, Friend of The Company, and Occasional Dancer When the Ale Hits Right
(Set to a gentle, lilting violin melody with a warm fireside rhythm.)
Verse I
Oh gather round, good folk and kin, where golden fields do sway,
Where kindness grows like apple trees and night gives birth to day.
A farmstead rests ‘neath open skies, with walls both worn and wide,
And in its heart, the Jenkins stand—with Chadwick at their side.
Verse II
Sir Chadwick, bold with banner bright, though battle’s scars he bears,
Was forged not just in steel and flame—but in a mother’s care.
She raised him strong, with gentle hands, a heart both brave and wise,
And in her gaze, the stars still burn that taught him where truth lies.
Chorus
So raise your cups to plow and song, to roots that do not roam,
To fields of gold and tales retold, and hearts that feel like home.
For though he rides ‘neath banner sworn, through fire, fear, and strife—
The soul of Chadwick rides no less… from Jenkins farm to life.
Verse III
The little ones come swarming fast, like bees to blooming vine,
And in their joy, a tale is told—a legacy in time.
The laughter here, the open arms, the bread, the warm embrace—
These are the spells no mage can cast, no king can dare replace.
Final Chorus
So sing, ye stars, and hum, ye fields, and dance, you twilit skies—
For in this humble patch of earth, a noble spirit lies.
Not clad in gold, but honest sweat, and family’s gentle hand…
Sir Chadwick of the Jenkins farm—a lion of the land.
Kragen looks at his Monsterdrink and frowns, remembering the last one he had, however caustiously takes a drink. Hearing the Drow lilt into a melody, begins to tap his fingers on the table to the rhythm, smiles.
“Mister Jenkins, you asked for news. As none of my more eloquent colleagues have chosen to answer your query, and Starker has rightly chosen silence, let me answer: we have no news that is relevant in the way I suspect you are asking. Tall tales abound by which we could stoke our own egos, but we know nothing of the troubles we suspect to be occurring here.
We were far to the northwest having a celebration and rest when we quaffed a keg of Monstordrink brew that had gone bad and Pinky simultaneously received a letter explaining something to be amiss here. We proceeded here with all due haste. So I turn the question back on you: what is amiss here? I am sure Pinky is glad to see his kin, but the rest of us are here with a more business-like agenda. Can you point us in the direction of what is troubling this place?”
Xymox's song is greeted with much delight. The children gather closer and run about a little less as they listen to the music. Many pick up the tune and tap their feet or fingers along with the rhythm. A cheer goes up after the last verse and all raise their mugs, "To Ma Jenkins!!" Timing is everything is the world of entertaining people. Xymox spotted her about to exit the house with a tray full of sweetened breads and other treats. The cheer erupts just as she exits the door. Even in the fading light you can see her blushing as she carries the tray laden with goodies out to the table. The children are remarkably restrained and form an orderly procession, waiting for the adults to select a treat first. A cousin of Chadwick's, Tommum(?), pretends to have trouble deciding on which to select as the first to do so. Then backs away and gives the kids first choice. All laugh and the children depart, enjoying their sweet treats.
The old man listens to Hoid's statement and holds his gaze for a moment longer than is comfortable. "Only his mother calls him that," he says flatly. "He has trained as a Knight and earned the right to be respected for that." He takes a puff on his pipe and puffs out two concentric rings. Watching them float off into the night, he continues, "There is some kind of stir afoot in town. Out here, all is fine and as it should be."
“I respect your son, <edit> but Sir Pinky is too cumbersome. I recommend you judge respect by actions more than words.”