In the Service of the Chalice

Shining Chalice meetinghouse, midday

The meetinghouse of the Shining Chalice doesn't look like a gathering place for sorcerers and nobles. It's a nice little townhouse situated on the border between the noble district and the university district in Alexandria, big enough for parties and meetings, but not so big it sprawls out. Indeed, the only signs of its unique nature are the sign depicting a silver chalice, and the softly-glowing mage-lights at the door. Those with a more arcane perception might see the traces of spells winding in and around the building, but to the mundane eye, it really doesn't seem that dangerous.

Inside, Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, sorcerer, adventurer, and diplomat, is dealing with the responsibilities of a new position; namely, proctor of the Chalice here in Alexandria. Which means something he detests: paperwork. The only saving grace is that he knows it has an end, scribing notes onto a sheet of paper as he reviews the ledgers.

It was a Sloan sans livery that made his way down the street today. Dressed in his familiar black linen pants and white tunic under a grey woollen cloak, the Aesir man steps up to the door of the townhouse and knocks politely, face impassive as he waits for someone to answer.

Telamon's head comes up at the knock, brow furrowing ever so slightly. Then he rises to his feet, closing the ledger and setting it aside. A casual gesture, and a ripple in the air drifts down the hall, as the half-elven sorcerer waits. Dressed in a ruffled white silk shirt over black trousers and boots, his shaggy hair spilling down to his shoulders, he doesn't -look- like a magician.

The door clicks open after a moment, though apparently no one is there as it swings wide. Telamon's voice calls down the hall, "Come in! It's cold out there, no point in standing on the stoop turning into a icicle!" His voice is genial. "Just come straight down the hall."

Hearing the summons, Sloan raises an eyebrow as the door swings open. Stepping inside without word, he pushes the portal closed once more. Taking a moment to remove his cloak, the Aesir man takes in his surroundings for a brief moment before neatly folding the cloak and tucking it under one arm. Task completed, he heads down the hall. Once he is close enough to his apparent destination so as not to necessitate yelling, he calls out. "Good morning?"

GAME: Sloan rolls perception: (19)+7: 26

"Come on in!" Telamon has finished putting the ledger away safely, and as Sloan enters he can see the hall leads into a well-appointed but not garish parlor. Comfortable chairs are scattered around the room, with a couple tables, and the walls are lined with bookshelves interspersed with elegant paintings -- landscapes and a couple portraits. Another door leads out, as Telamon steps forward to offer the Aesir man his hand. "Good day to you, sir. Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, proctor of the Shining Chalice at your service."

As Sloan enters, a faint ripple or shimmer in the air might be seen or sensed as it slips past and drifts into the corner, practically invisible. The parlor is lit with more of the mage-lamps, glowing with a soft soothing glow, but they don't hide the star-shine in Telamon's eyes.

Taking Telamon's hand in his own linen gloved one, Sloan offers a half bow as he replies. "Good day to you as well sir. I am Sloan, until recently, Under the employ of Lord Halston as valet to his son Geoffrey" the shining thing slipping past does not go unnoticed by Sloan, though for the moment, he does not acknowledge this.

"I have served Lord Halston for the past 8 years. but the young master Geoffrey has of recent decided to travel in the employ of the Adventurer's guild, and I find myself without employ. I have been informed that you may be in need of a Butler. Though perhaps, I am mistaken in this." as this last is spoken, Sloan turns his eyes towards the corner of the room for the briefest of moments.

Telamon lifts his brows. "I had heard such. Well, I do hope Geoffrey takes care. Guild adventures can be profitable, but they are -not- without risk." Shaking Sloan's hand briskly, he gestures for the taller man to sit down, and Tel takes the chair next to his, separated by a small end-table.

"The Chalice has found itself in something of a similar situation. We seem to be gaining some new members, and we... sometimes have a difficult time retaining staff." He looks rueful. "Managing nobles and well-to-do gentry with 'the talent' as I call it can be tricky, and that doesn't even get into the strange things a person might see at meetings."

At Sloan's comment, Telamon actually looks startled, then laughs. "Ahh. You've seen the unseen, I might say. But no, Sloan, an unseen servitor is ... well, such a spell has limits." He steeples his fingers. "Such a conjuration is tireless, but it has no mind of its own. Like a clockwork toy, it has no initiative, no capacity to realize a situation has changed. They make passable workers when supervised, but they cannot act of their own accord."

Nodding quietly as Telamon speaks, Sloan quietly hands him a sealed envelope. "Discretion I can offer my lord. As you may know, Lord Halston is Lord Commander of Halston's Light Infantry, a mercenary company of some repute. I have often found myself in attendance in his meetings. when necessary. You will find my references exemplary, and I am comfortable dealing with the Gentry." His piece said, Sloan falls silent.

Telamon hmms. "Discretion usually isn't the problem. But not every servant or assistant is comfortable with the strange and arcane." He raises a hand to take the envelope, continuing, "I assure you there is nothing unethical, immoral, or illegal, but... hm. Let me offer a good example."

He clears his throat, and says, "Jyndei, I know you're listening in. Why don't you come in and say hello?"

A funny sound, like a high-pitched giggle, comes from the other room, and then a small creature glides in on resplendent butterfly wings. Looking like a tiny dragon, the orange-scaled lizard alights on the back of Telamon's chair, peering at Sloan with large, luminous eyes. In a somewhat squeaky voice, the faerie dragon says, "Greetings to you, sir. I am Jyndei, friend and occasional assistant to Lord Lupecyll-Atlon."

Again Sloan raises an eyebrow before remembering himself. "A....pleasure Jyndei." This said a little uncertainly. Looking back to Telamon, he adds. "I am not at home to the inner workings of magic, though Lord Halston does employ wizards in his company. As for Unethical, immoral, or illegal, it is not for me to judge. I do appreciate the candor in your declaration though. It does set me at ease to know this." Exterior remainin professional, Sloan's inner monologue was running wild ~Ok. Invisible ghosts, tiny dragons...I swear if a Tapdancing spider drops in from the cieling, I'm moving to a small village and raising pigs.~

Telamon opens the envelope, removing the letter and perusing it. "Hm. Lord Halston still writes like he's doing it with a broadsword, I see. Gods love the man, though, he's honest to a fault." Tel's voice is wry, but respectful.

Jyndei peers down at Sloan from his perch, and inquires, "Would you like a snack, Master Sloan? I think there are some pickled mountain oysters still in the pantry."

Tel glances up at Jyndei. "Really, Jyndei? Really? Stop trying to pawn those off, you -know- those are for Mistress Daneira." Jyndei actually lets out a little snicker, as Tel sighs. "Incorrigible. But yes, it's clear Lord Ralston approved of your work."

Nodding at Telamon's statement, Sloan replies quietly. "Indeed, My lord Halston is not at home with the quill. though I fear he may have been wearing a gauntlet while writing that letter. I'm afriad I am not privy to the contents of the letter beyond being told it was a 'Damned corker of a reference' if you will forgive my direct quotation." At the mention of Mountain oysters, the Aesir man considers for a moment. "I shall pass at his time, thank you, but if they are going to go wanting, I know a passable Shephard's pie recipe that would suffice to sue them up. I say passable. It is not my favorite, but Lady DeJarnais personal cook spent 3 years perfecting it."

"Humor aside, it -is- a good reference. Lord Ralston is a fairly blunt fellow. But, as I said: honest." Telamon folds the letter back into the envelope, putting it away for the moment. "So I guess the question should be asked: if you desire the job, it's there. The good news is that the pay is reasonable, and there's less chance of a bad encounter on the streets -- the noble district is heavily patrolled, and the university district, well, the thieves avoid it after that one unfortunate incident involving an attempted mugger and the Proctor of Evocation at the College."

"You'll be tasked primarily with upkeep here at the meetinghouse -- cleaning, stocking the pantry, minor repairs and the like. You may be asked to handle deliveries and courier work here in the city -- taking a letter to someone, for example."

Listening politely, Sloan adjusts the folded cloak under his arm. "I would consider it a privilege to enter your employ My lord. These are all tasks I am accustomed to. What will the dress code requirements be? and what hours will you be requiring my services?"

Telamon smiles broadly at that, while Jyndei flicks his tail. "Excellent. Attire should be muted colors and conservative cut -- if you still retain garments from your employ with Lord Ralston I think those will be fine. If you need new garments, we'll make arrangements."

Tel sits back in his chair, tapping his fingers together. "Full Chalice meetings are weekly, every Kesenday. I also recommend you come by every Variday to review stocks and get a shopping lists together. Members will come in to do research, study, or work experiments Tariday through Korday, but we schedule them ahead of time so you'll know if you're needed those days."

A pause, then, "Also, etiquette. All members of the Chalice within the walls, and their guests, are 'Master' and 'Mistress'. There are no titles here, as we are all possessing varying degrees of arcane talent and seek to master such -- hence the appellation." Tel's expression becomes firm. "The members are not allowed to mistreat or harm staff, upon threat of expulsion -- or worse, being turned over to the guard or the temples for more serious offenses. It hasn't happened before, but we've no desire to harbor a viper in our midst."

Nodding quietly, Sloan takes this all in, switching to the new vernacular quickly. "Of course, master. Are there Staff quarters on site? I am used to a living in situation, other arrangements can be made though." Taking in the surroundsing once more, he adds. "If the master would prefer, I can start directly. I should take stock of the pantries and make a list. Are there special dietary needs?"

"Yes and no. The townhouse next door is used for servants, though we've been in short supply." Telamon makes a face. "You'd think people in Alexandria would be more used to... strangeness. I guess it's the proximity, having to work around it regularly, that wears some of them down. In any case..." Telamon gives Sloan a measuring look. "We could use a couple more to fill out the ranks. If you know someone of good quality, let me know."

"Dietary needs? Not exactly. Some of us have preferences -- I enjoy a good cup of tea, Master Stiger likes meat with every meal, and Mistress Daneira has some peculiar tastes in snacks." Tel gives Jyndei a look, and the little dragon sticks his tongue out. "Don't you start."

"They're -icky-." Jyndei grumbles.

Tel sighs loudly. "...In any case, I'll make some notes for you. If there is a problem, let me or one of the other proctors -- Turow, or Stiger -- know. We're not going to make you go swimming for monk shrimp if there's none at the market, but just don't let us be surprised."

Looking around once more, Sloan moves towards the door of the Study. "Meat at every meal. That is simple enough, and no surprises. I will ensure the menu is posted weekly in due time for any ammendments to be requested. As for extra staff, I do believe that Young miss Gladys, one of the scullery maids at Lord Tristan's estate is looking for a change of employ. Does not favor working with her sister who is a cook in the same kitchen." looking at Jyndei, he adds. "As for the master's Dragon?" weather it was a question about the gragon, or weather the creature itself was a dragon is left to interpretation. "I regret that my knowledge of husbandry is somewhat lacking at this time. What Mistress Jyndei's requirements?"

Jyndei immediately perks up. "I would like a whole swordfish!"

Telamon puts his hand against his face. "You've been spending too much time around Tanith, Jyndei. And Pothy, for that matter." He waves his hand. "I'll handle Jyndei, Sloan. He's... a guest. But you might consider laying in a stock of mixed nuts and dried fruits. My wife, Cor'lana, sometimes visits, and her familiar will eat anything."

At the news of a maid, Telamon nods. "The townhouse next door is going to need a little tidying -- but it's warm, dry, and safe." He rises from his chair, and Jyndei alights on his shoulder. "The kitchens are in here," he explains, leading Sloan inside. "It's not big enough for a twelve course feast, but it's enough to feed the group if we're all here." He scratches his chin thoughtfully. "Wine cellar is downstairs, but it'll need restocking after the last party. Oh! If you see bottles marked with a crescent moon and mockingbird, don't serve those without telling me. I've been dabbling in arcane winemaking and sometimes the effects can be startling."

Following Telamon through the building, he takes things in. finding a place in the kitchen to hang his cloak, he adjusts his sleeves. "Crescent moon and mockingbird. Understood. Are there first aid requirements or signs one should look out for should someone end up helping themselves? and I look forward to meeting the master's wife. I believe I am aquainted with your mother in law after last evening?"

"They'll be acting a lot like someone who got a good dose of dreamweed," Telamon quips. "Although Master Stiger complimented me on my Night's Kiss brew. He actually bought a bottle off me." He pauses. "The effects aren't dangerous, but they can be distracting. Just get them to sit down for a bit and wait for things to wear off."

At the mention of his 'mother in law', Telamon kind of twitches. "Ah... alright, Sloan, you kinda went into the deep end there." He tilts his head curiously for a moment, like he's listening to something, before he continues, "That was my wife. The Stormgardian we were verbally fencing with last night, well... he's suspected of being in league with some very dangerous people. And she once tried to shake information loose from him by pretending to be her mother." He raises his hand. "Just... don't question it too much. I was worried he was going to try and carry her off, at which point it was going to get messy."

Nodding as Telamon explains the effects of his wine, Sloan commits it to memory. "Indeed. Not life threatening, potentially hazardous to short term mental health. Perchance is there a possibility of aerosolizing this wine were such a thing to become necessary?"

as Telamon explains the situation with his wife, he adds. "Full disclosure master. You are free to tell me anything you wish. I do not speak of things I am told in confidence. As far as it goes, that is not the worst plan one has come up with. Servants talk, Butlers listen. There is a noble in this city who spends the majority of their time in diapers when not entertaining visitors...pretending to be ones own mother is not so bad."

Telamon just eyes Sloan. "I really didn't need to know that last bit, Sloan. Thanks for sharing." He exhales. "No, it doesn't bother me -- sometimes, good people must wear masks, and righteous actions must be hidden behind a false face. I'm just amused at how it must look to someone not 'in the know' as it were."

Jyndei cheerfully chimes in, "Indeed! It is considered a clever art form indeed to work righteousness while going undetected or hidden behind a false countenance."

Telamon groans. "Jyndei, that came out of a copper dreadful book you found." He shifts his gaze back to Sloan again. "I don't recommend it. I've seen some -very- strange things occur with potions converted in such a manner, and besides, it'd be a waste of perfectly good wine." Tel squares his shoulders. "In any case, I would caution you if you see that man, Zalgiman, to -not- approach him."

Listening quietly as he beings to move around the kitchen now, Sloan begins taking stock of the cupboards. "I am inclined to agree with you Master. there are soem things that people would prefer not to remember. Including the washer women in that particular estate." A cheap notebook and a stub of a pencil are produced as Sloan begins to make lists for shopping. "Might I enquire, the Stormguardians, are they not an honorable association? I will admit I know little of them."

"As a rule, the High North produces hard men but not necessarily villainous ones." Telamon comments, leaning against one of the counters and out of Sloan's way. "However, this Zalgiman is not an exemplar of the region -- assuming he is even from Stormgarde. There are ways to change one's appearance, after all."

Telamon continues, "So to answer the question, I have generally found the people of Stormgarde to be honorable and straightforward, and I do not judge them by the actions of Zalgiman. There will always be those who... are not the best example to put forward." His mouth tightens at some memory, but the expression vanishes as soon as it's there. "Thankfully, there are many here in Alexandria, both proud and humble, who are good friends in both the best and worst of times."

Pausing in his searching, Sloan looks to Telamon and bobs his head slightly. "Indeed. Cannot judge the many by the one. I grew up in this city. but my knowledge of the world was until recently, limited to my neighborhood. these past 8 years have been a horizon expanding experience." Musing on this for a moment and taking in his surroundings, he adds "I have suspicions that this is only going to become more-so the case."

Telamon smiles. "Well, it's always good to expand one's field of knowledge. If nothing else, it's useful." He considers something, before continuing, "For minor annoyances, feel free to invite trespassers to vacate the porch. No one here has purchased -- gods help me -- 'adventuring insurance', and we don't need an 'extended warranty' on anything here. Whatever -that- is." He flexes his hand. "While we've never had a -serious- incident here, you are -not- required to step in on those. Ensure the safety of any other servants, and defend yourself if necessary. But drawn steel is going to invariably draw a serious response -- and it will be noisy." His eyes twinkle wryly.

Switching to another page on the notepad, he writes. "In case of emergency, things will get noisy. Protect staff, see Flagstaff about earplugs." Looking around the kitchen for a moment, he adds. "And a...mop." Going back to his original list, he adds "We are not at home to sales people." Taking another moment to pause, the Aesir man looks to Telamon. "Will the master be requiring lunch soon? we are in the kitchen already."

Jyndei immediately perks up again, and looks at Telamon hopefully, flicking his tail.

Telamon looks back at Jyndei, before suddenly chuckling, his face lighting up with humor. "Alright. Go ahead and put together some sandwiches. And some tea. It -is- lunchtime, or close to it." He rubs his chin. "It's funny, really, I used to stay up till all hours of the night, and then I met Cor'lana and I found myself going to bed earlier... funny how that worked out." From his tone, he's kidding -- he knows -exactly- what happened. And he doesn't mind too much.

Moving around the kitchen with a rapidly increasing familiarity, Sloan goes about finding the makings of a meal. Pausing by the stove to adjust the draft and get the top heating, he checks the wood supply quickly adds a bit more to the burn box. Frying pan placed on top, he leave it there to heat up as he finds and begins slicing cured ham from a leg hanging in the larder. the blade appearing in his hand definitely not by magic, but one might think that was the case at first. "Funny how the presence of a lady can disrupt one's rhythms master. Usually for the better. Age old tale."