There is an old, abandoned house by the Currie Barracks. Something about the architecture, furnishings and decor suggests grandmotherlyness in some vague sense. Through the dirty windows you will be able to make out that everything is covered by a thick layer of dust. The back door is usually unlocked. Enter it at night, but bring a flashlight with you as the house has not had power in years. Make your way forward, through the kitchen, and into the house’s small dining room.
Around the table you will see five mummified corpses, still dressed the same way they were that day in 1992 when a visit to grandma’s turned took a turn for the worse. On the table will be a wooden tray with a sheet of green velvet laid across it, and across that the remains of a strange silverware set. The design seems almost nautical, taking inspiration from conch shells and other ocean forms. The tray and the silverware on it will be the only thing in the house untouched by dust.
Take a piece and slip it into your pocket. For as long as you carry it, your body will slowly grow more and more decayed and aged, but you will never suffer from any of age’s debilitating ravages.