The room is about 30 feet square, made of heavy masonry and wood, like a castle. There is a fireplace at one end, and while there are chairs and what appear to be wooden strongboxes along the walls, there is no other furniture. There are huge windows along one wall, and a door in the wall opposite the window. The room is a little cooler than comfortable: sweater weather, some might say.
It is a thick forest, dark but not oppressive. The trees' trunks are wide and covered with thick bark. Their leaves are dark and green. Underfoot are dead leaves, damp and quiet, and occasional patches of grass. There are bushes here and there.
The path is a worn-down trail through the trees, winding around them but worn by the passage of many feet. It is dirt beneath the dusting of fallen leaves, and is a little lower than the untracked part of the forest. There is a fringe of green grass visible at its edges. For two travelers to pass, one will have to step off of the path.
The path stops at a small stream. It is neither terribly swift nor wide, but it can't be crossed without getting wet. It's quite cold, but clear. If you're the type who drinks water, this is ideal. A little upstream is a small waterfall that the stream splashes over before arriving at the path. There is a pool there.
It is a wooden cup, sealed against leakage. Crude but effective. It has no handle, a flat bottom, unbowed sides about 4 inches high.
The key is a large, ornate brass one, so bright that at first glance it might be gold. It is well-kempt so that it probably belongs to someone or something of worth. It is an old-fashioned kind of key, with a hoop end for holding and suspending from cords, and a tang end for turning simple tumblers.