The last mephit tumbles into the mud pit, and with a flamboyant gesture, Keledek seals the portal. Zaerra and Irob feel the arcane energy dissolve the portal until all that is left is dried mud. The mephits disappeared along with the portal.
Tom Oweland looks at Yakeerk. "I will need a report on this to present to the council. But I need to know what happened here." Tom turns to Keledek.
The turbaned wizard shrugs. "Portal appear. I know little else."
Tom turns to Irob and Zaerra. "Can you shed any light on this event?"
"From my travels over many years through the astral planes I do know that spontaneous portals appearing is not usually a good sign. It normally indicates a weakening for the borders between worlds.", she say to Tom.
Turning to the group she says with a very concerned tone, "This is always, always a bad sign for one of those worlds. It is something to be very cautious of as it is accompanied by an increase in chaos and evil in the affected area."
"We will need to prepare ourselves and the town. We will need to remain alert my friends." Zaerra concern and urgency is obvious to the group.
Tom Oweland nods. "There are increasing signs that evil creatures are being attracted to the area. I'm sure you have heard the rumours and news of fisherfolk refusing to fish at night. Please keep an eye out for such creatures. We need to know why this is happening so we can do something about it. Yakeerk, a word please." Tom leaves and goes outside with Yakeerk following.
Keledek looks at Amici Noctia, especially Zaerra and Irob.
"I think," he says in his thick accent, "I would like to know you better. I send you an invitation. Please come when it arrive." He turns and leaves the hovel, bending down to get his turban out of the door.
The Snapping Line hums with the low, rhythmic murmur of conversation as the late afternoon sunlight slants through the uneven porthole-shaped windows. The walls and ceiling of the inn carry the history of the sea, constructed from planks salvaged from retired fishing ships, their grain still rough with salt and brine. Rusted harpoons, netting, and barnacle-encrusted ship wheels hang as decoration, alongside faded nautical maps and trophies of the sea—shells, dried starfish, and a massive lobster claw framed above the bar.
The air is thick with the scent of the ocean mingled with the earthy tang of wood smoke from a brick hearth in the corner. A sturdy bar, its surface sanded smooth but still bearing the scratches of years of tankards slammed in merriment or frustration, stretches along the far wall. Behind it, Hanna Rist, the bright-eyed young woman and innkeeper with brown hair tied back in a no-nonsense braid, moves deftly between filling tankards, slicing lemon for oysters, and greeting patrons with a warm, if slightly mischievous, smile. A cask labeled Claw Wine stands prominently on the counter, its aroma pungent enough to turn heads.
The tables and chairs are a mismatched collection of nautical remnants—barrels serving as tables, chairs with armrests shaped like oars, and a few booths lined with repurposed fishing nets. The floor is uneven but well-swept, its creaks and groans adding to the ship-like ambiance.
The patrons match the decor: hardy sailors with weather-beaten faces, fisherfolk in stained oilskins, and traders with tales of their day's dealings. Many have gathered in clusters to share stories and laughter. Among them, the Argentaxe brothers, a pair of burly dwarves who keep the peace at the Snapping Line, stand out. Frummel Argentaxe, clad in dented but polished armor, leans against a post with a watchful eye, ready to step in at the first sign of trouble. His twin, Hurch Argentaxe, lounges shirtless at a nearby table, his unblemished muscular torso glistening faintly in the lamplight as he arm-wrestles a sailor, a toothy grin on his face.
At the edge of the room, Dredge Luckton, the traumatised town drunk, sits alone at a table with his back to the wall, a half-empty tankard of cheap ale in front of him. His grey, unkempt hair and beard hang like a shroud over his hollow face, his sunken eyes staring into nothing. The other patrons keep their distance, though there’s a silent respect for the broken man, a relic of harsher days at sea.
A group of sailors gathers around one of the larger tables, recounting the day’s adventures—an unusually large catch, a near-miss with a shoal, and rumors of a ghostly ship seen in the distance. The sound of hearty laughter rises and falls like waves. The mood is lively, but there’s an undercurrent of wariness, the kind that settles in a town where the Regent's interest threatens to disturb the hard-earned balance of their lives.
Hanna spies the party and waves as best she can with her hands full of tankards. She calls to Annabel to serve Amici Noctia. The teenager comes over, nodding at the party and smiling and shows them to a large booth where they can talk privately if they wish. She takes their orders for drinks and tells them if they want to eat here the menu and specials will be out soon.
The party look around; Manaya is not here, but it is early. While busy, the inn is not at capacity, there are a few empty tables.
Actions? This can include talk to anyone, or you can just wait for Manaya to show.
Yga will appear disinterested but try her best to follow the conversation of the sailors/fishermen and the "ghostly ship". She has a hunch the lantern and code instructions found at the manor may be a signalling system for smugglers.
Irob will try to keep a low profile as usual, pretending to sip from a mug of beer so as not to draw too much attention to himself while listening into the various conversations around the bar.
Zaerra sips her beer for a little and then casually makes her way towards towards Dredge. She slips into the the chair opposite him, gives him a slight nod and continues to sip her beer. She won't push him to engage in conversation, but is there if he wishes to chat.
Yga will appear disinterested but try her best to follow the conversation of the sailors/fishermen and the "ghostly ship". She has a hunch the lantern and code instructions found at the manor may be a signalling system for smugglers.
Yga listens and one of the other, older sailors speaks up. He must be well respected because as soon as he speaks, the other sailors go silent.
"T'was a calm and moonlit night when the fog came rolling in, dense and from seemingly nowhere. We heard her next, that creak and that groan of timbers which have sailed the sea too long without a drydock.
"Edgar spied her first through the gloom, a Saltmarsher and seasoned sailor he was, eyes like a blood hawk - a friend. He hollered down from the crow's nest, 'ship off the starboard bow,', but his voice hitched on the last word. Began to scream thereafter, and my blood chilled as though an ice mephit crawled into my veins.
"T'was then the monstrosity broke through the mists, a terrible pale vessel, three-masted, tattered gray sails, and timbers like the color of bones. I gasped the moment I laid eyes on it, not too proud to say, and fell back to the portside rail trying to put distance between me and that death ship.
"That's when the captain called us to stations, but by then it was too late, that ship was on us, set to a ramming course. We went hard to port but to no avail.
"The blow struck true. However, it was softer than one would think, like a big wave jostling our own ship, and yet as I looked on, I wailed. That accursed vessel was becoming like one upon our own, enveloping us… swallowing the Star Drifter like the very fog pouring from that ghost ship's fuming hull.
"In terror, I leapt to the sea, and thank Procan I did, for as I bobbed within the chilled waters of the Azure, I watched my own ship disappear into the beast.
"All that remained was that terrible pale vessel, and so close I could see now the timbers making up its bulk, t'were bones and skulls. Nothing but bones and skulls. And when that demon finally sailed away a few moments later, the Star Drifter was but a hulk, looking as though left adrift for centuries. And as for the crew, but for me, not a soul remained.
"T'was then, I knew I had survived the Pale Prow, that ghost vessel crewed by the damned and captained by the vampire, Captain Ineca Sufocan!"
Irob will try to keep a low profile as usual, pretending to sip from a mug of beer so as not to draw too much attention to himself while listening into the various conversations around the bar.
Irob hears the following information from conversations:
I tell yer, I ain’t goin’ out fishin’ at night no more! It was spooky before, now it’s dangerous. Old Dan’s boat was found yesterday morning, floating only a mile off shore! No one on it. There’s things in the water at night, you catch a glimpse, but they’re too clever to get caught in our nets. I’m done! Daylight fishin’ for me from now on!
Have ye heard the story about the pirate captain, who is a dragon? No? Well, she’s savage and fearful, and her crew are all orcs and hobgoblins and ogres and similar scum. Thereax Guldeer her name is, and she wants to be a Sea Prince, but they won’t let her, see, being on account she’s a dragon, so she figures if she becomes a feared pirate with an even bigger treasure than she has now, well they won’t be able to say no! Not only is she a dragon, but she’s rigged her ship – the Gnasher it be called – to breath fire! Merchants surrender instantly they see the Gnasher bearing down on them! My advice lads is always have a fast ship, and sail like buggery if you see a ship hoisting a flag with a dragon! What? How does she fit on a ship if she’s a dragon? Well, I don’t rightly know. Must be magic!
There’s a great white beech standing proud on the cliffs of Upcliff. It’s good luck to kiss the white trunk of the tree at the witching hour, and many sailors and fisherman of Saltmarsh go out of their way to do so despite the inconvenience. Older stories tell of a link to the fey, and a way that opens with the right words.
Zaerra sips her beer for a little and then casually makes her way towards towards Dredge. She slips into the the chair opposite him, gives him a slight nod and continues to sip her beer. She won't push him to engage in conversation, but is there if he wishes to chat.
"So yer back, then," Dredge says. "Didn't die horribly. Lucky." He looks around with bleary eyes to see if anyone is watching them. "I saw a table move once. A mouth opened up in it and it ate the meal sitting there, spat out the plate, then moved. *burp!* Weirdest thing I ever saw."
Zaerra sips her beer for a little and then casually makes her way towards towards Dredge. She slips into the the chair opposite him, gives him a slight nod and continues to sip her beer. She won't push him to engage in conversation, but is there if he wishes to chat.
"So yer back, then," Dredge says. "Didn't die horribly. Lucky." He looks around with bleary eyes to see if anyone is watching them. "I saw a table move once. A mouth opened up in it and it ate the meal sitting there, spat out the plate, then moved. *burp!* Weirdest thing I ever saw."
Zaerra nods along as Dredge speaks, "We are indeed back. We've had an interesting couple of days. Where ever did you see this table, it sounds like something is like to see as well. ", she sits back smiling at Dredge.
"It just looked like any other table here. It could be the one we're sitting at right now!" Dredge smiled, showing that he did not think that was likely. "Maybe we just have to be in the right place at the right time. Maybe I was drunk and it didn't happen. Maybe it's gone. It's a mystery!" Dredge shrugs and takes a swig of ale.
Manaya enters the Snapping Line, cloaked and hooded, and sits with Yakeerk, Susk, and Rask, nodding to them. The inn is a little busier now, so not many pay her any attention as everyone is wrapped up talking with their friends and comrades.
Yga and Zaerra come back to the group. Manaya orders a wine and drinks it while the others wait to hear what she has to say.
"Those symbols you showed me. Don't take it out, in fact never show it to anyone you don't trust with your life, but let me talk about the symbol with the eye first."
"The eye symbol you have in your possession was taken from an initiate of the Esoteric Order of Dagon. The EoD is a cult that worships an aquatic being of chaos and destruction known as Dagon. Dagon is an Elder Evil, as these types of powerful beings are called, who is aligned with, and may even be an aspect of, Tharizdun, the Chained God, the Elder Elemental Eye. A being so powerful and destructive that evil and good aligned gods alike allied together to imprison it during the Dawn War."
"But back to this symbol: This is the symbol carried by an initiate. As you progress into the greater mysteries of the cult, your symbol changes into an eye with a triangle around it, then the senior cultists have a symbol of a circle with teeth, representing Dagon's maw, often surrounded by a triangle with tentacles. This symbol is often seen in areas of cultist activity. These cultists want to bring their deity Dagon into the world. This would be a cataclysmic event. We believe that the Ancient Empire was destroyed by Dagon a millenia ago."
Manaya continues. "We know that the Esoteric Order of Dagon is operating in Saltmarsh. We do not know all the ways they are involved or how, or who all the members are. We know which organisation they have infiltrated, but we don't know how far their reach is. All the way to the Town Council? Maybe. We know a lot but not everything."
"But who is 'we'?" asks Yakeerk, voicing the question they were all thinking.
"This brings me to the second symbol that Zaerra showed me. This is a symbol of my order. The helmet represents the concept of a guardian, or watchfulness. We are known as 'The Secret Society' or just 'The Society'. We are an order dedicated to fighting against any group that would bring harm to the world. But our fortunes declined during the 100 Year War, and so we are few in number because we do not promise wealth, power, and connections, while the number of EoD cultists, who do promise those things, have grown. In addition cultists in power have declared The Society an evil cult that must be stamped out. Like a narcissist they accuse us of doing the things they do themselves. So now EoD cultists and government agents hunt us down, and are doing so successfully. We think someone must have infiltrated our order because EoD intelligence on our members and travel is very good. The cultists killed a Society member who travelled here from the capital Londar. You found his body on the beach. We fight a secret war in the shadows. And we are losing."
Manaya turns to Zaerra. "I saw you talking to Dredge Luckton over there, and he wasn't abusing you. Do you have some kind of friendly relationship with him?" Zaerra gets from Manaya's intense gaze and tone that this is not a casual question.
Manaya continues. "We know that the Esoteric Order of Dagon is operating in Saltmarsh. We do not know all the ways they are involved or how, or who all the members are. We know which organisation they have infiltrated, but we don't know how far their reach is. All the way to the Town Council? Maybe. We know a lot but not everything."
Yga suddenly remembers talking about Manaya to his friend at Primewater Mansion, Feliza Tippletopple, the head chef. At the time Feliza said to Yga: "Manaya is a bit of a people watcher. I sometimes see her observing people out the window. Now I come to think of it, do you know that little disapproving pursing of the lips she does? Well, it's probably an unconscious expression, but she does it whenever she sees a priest or acolyte of the Church of the Sea Mother. Pretty strange, hey?"
Manaya turns to Zaerra. "I saw you talking to Dredge Luckton over there, and he wasn't abusing you. Do you have some kind of friendly relationship with him?" Zaerra gets from Manaya's intense gaze and tone that this is not a casual question.
"I wouldn't say we are the best of friends but we have helped him and he has helped us. Everyone has some good in them, I guess we found Dredge's good side. Do you not see the good in Dredge?", Zaerra gives a little so so hand wave whilst she says this.
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The last mephit tumbles into the mud pit, and with a flamboyant gesture, Keledek seals the portal. Zaerra and Irob feel the arcane energy dissolve the portal until all that is left is dried mud. The mephits disappeared along with the portal.
Tom Oweland looks at Yakeerk. "I will need a report on this to present to the council. But I need to know what happened here." Tom turns to Keledek.
The turbaned wizard shrugs. "Portal appear. I know little else."
Tom turns to Irob and Zaerra. "Can you shed any light on this event?"
"From my travels over many years through the astral planes I do know that spontaneous portals appearing is not usually a good sign. It normally indicates a weakening for the borders between worlds.", she say to Tom.
Turning to the group she says with a very concerned tone, "This is always, always a bad sign for one of those worlds. It is something to be very cautious of as it is accompanied by an increase in chaos and evil in the affected area."
"We will need to prepare ourselves and the town. We will need to remain alert my friends." Zaerra concern and urgency is obvious to the group.
Tom Oweland nods. "There are increasing signs that evil creatures are being attracted to the area. I'm sure you have heard the rumours and news of fisherfolk refusing to fish at night. Please keep an eye out for such creatures. We need to know why this is happening so we can do something about it. Yakeerk, a word please." Tom leaves and goes outside with Yakeerk following.
Keledek looks at Amici Noctia, especially Zaerra and Irob.
"I think," he says in his thick accent, "I would like to know you better. I send you an invitation. Please come when it arrive." He turns and leaves the hovel, bending down to get his turban out of the door.
When Amici Noctia leave the now safe hovel, Yakeerk is waiting for them, his feathers a little ruffled.
"It is perhaps time to return to the Snapping Line. We need to meet Manaya, and perhaps check in on our resident drunk, Dredge Luckton."
The Snapping Line hums with the low, rhythmic murmur of conversation as the late afternoon sunlight slants through the uneven porthole-shaped windows. The walls and ceiling of the inn carry the history of the sea, constructed from planks salvaged from retired fishing ships, their grain still rough with salt and brine. Rusted harpoons, netting, and barnacle-encrusted ship wheels hang as decoration, alongside faded nautical maps and trophies of the sea—shells, dried starfish, and a massive lobster claw framed above the bar.
The air is thick with the scent of the ocean mingled with the earthy tang of wood smoke from a brick hearth in the corner. A sturdy bar, its surface sanded smooth but still bearing the scratches of years of tankards slammed in merriment or frustration, stretches along the far wall. Behind it, Hanna Rist, the bright-eyed young woman and innkeeper with brown hair tied back in a no-nonsense braid, moves deftly between filling tankards, slicing lemon for oysters, and greeting patrons with a warm, if slightly mischievous, smile. A cask labeled Claw Wine stands prominently on the counter, its aroma pungent enough to turn heads.
The tables and chairs are a mismatched collection of nautical remnants—barrels serving as tables, chairs with armrests shaped like oars, and a few booths lined with repurposed fishing nets. The floor is uneven but well-swept, its creaks and groans adding to the ship-like ambiance.
The patrons match the decor: hardy sailors with weather-beaten faces, fisherfolk in stained oilskins, and traders with tales of their day's dealings. Many have gathered in clusters to share stories and laughter. Among them, the Argentaxe brothers, a pair of burly dwarves who keep the peace at the Snapping Line, stand out. Frummel Argentaxe, clad in dented but polished armor, leans against a post with a watchful eye, ready to step in at the first sign of trouble. His twin, Hurch Argentaxe, lounges shirtless at a nearby table, his unblemished muscular torso glistening faintly in the lamplight as he arm-wrestles a sailor, a toothy grin on his face.
At the edge of the room, Dredge Luckton, the traumatised town drunk, sits alone at a table with his back to the wall, a half-empty tankard of cheap ale in front of him. His grey, unkempt hair and beard hang like a shroud over his hollow face, his sunken eyes staring into nothing. The other patrons keep their distance, though there’s a silent respect for the broken man, a relic of harsher days at sea.
A group of sailors gathers around one of the larger tables, recounting the day’s adventures—an unusually large catch, a near-miss with a shoal, and rumors of a ghostly ship seen in the distance. The sound of hearty laughter rises and falls like waves. The mood is lively, but there’s an undercurrent of wariness, the kind that settles in a town where the Regent's interest threatens to disturb the hard-earned balance of their lives.
Hanna spies the party and waves as best she can with her hands full of tankards. She calls to Annabel to serve Amici Noctia. The teenager comes over, nodding at the party and smiling and shows them to a large booth where they can talk privately if they wish. She takes their orders for drinks and tells them if they want to eat here the menu and specials will be out soon.
The party look around; Manaya is not here, but it is early. While busy, the inn is not at capacity, there are a few empty tables.
Actions? This can include talk to anyone, or you can just wait for Manaya to show.
Yga will appear disinterested but try her best to follow the conversation of the sailors/fishermen and the "ghostly ship". She has a hunch the lantern and code instructions found at the manor may be a signalling system for smugglers.
Irob will try to keep a low profile as usual, pretending to sip from a mug of beer so as not to draw too much attention to himself while listening into the various conversations around the bar.
Zaerra sips her beer for a little and then casually makes her way towards towards Dredge. She slips into the the chair opposite him, gives him a slight nod and continues to sip her beer. She won't push him to engage in conversation, but is there if he wishes to chat.
Yga listens and one of the other, older sailors speaks up. He must be well respected because as soon as he speaks, the other sailors go silent.
"T'was a calm and moonlit night when the fog came rolling in, dense and from seemingly nowhere. We heard her next, that creak and that groan of timbers which have sailed the sea too long without a drydock.
"Edgar spied her first through the gloom, a Saltmarsher and seasoned sailor he was, eyes like a blood hawk - a friend. He hollered down from the crow's nest, 'ship off the starboard bow,', but his voice hitched on the last word. Began to scream thereafter, and my blood chilled as though an ice mephit crawled into my veins.
"T'was then the monstrosity broke through the mists, a terrible pale vessel, three-masted, tattered gray sails, and timbers like the color of bones. I gasped the moment I laid eyes on it, not too proud to say, and fell back to the portside rail trying to put distance between me and that death ship.
"That's when the captain called us to stations, but by then it was too late, that ship was on us, set to a ramming course. We went hard to port but to no avail.
"The blow struck true. However, it was softer than one would think, like a big wave jostling our own ship, and yet as I looked on, I wailed. That accursed vessel was becoming like one upon our own, enveloping us… swallowing the Star Drifter like the very fog pouring from that ghost ship's fuming hull.
"In terror, I leapt to the sea, and thank Procan I did, for as I bobbed within the chilled waters of the Azure, I watched my own ship disappear into the beast.
"All that remained was that terrible pale vessel, and so close I could see now the timbers making up its bulk, t'were bones and skulls. Nothing but bones and skulls. And when that demon finally sailed away a few moments later, the Star Drifter was but a hulk, looking as though left adrift for centuries. And as for the crew, but for me, not a soul remained.
"T'was then, I knew I had survived the Pale Prow, that ghost vessel crewed by the damned and captained by the vampire, Captain Ineca Sufocan!"
(Story Credit: u/CasuallyInformed on reddit)
Irob hears the following information from conversations:
"So yer back, then," Dredge says. "Didn't die horribly. Lucky." He looks around with bleary eyes to see if anyone is watching them. "I saw a table move once. A mouth opened up in it and it ate the meal sitting there, spat out the plate, then moved. *burp!* Weirdest thing I ever saw."
Zaerra nods along as Dredge speaks, "We are indeed back. We've had an interesting couple of days. Where ever did you see this table, it sounds like something is like to see as well. ", she sits back smiling at Dredge.
"It just looked like any other table here. It could be the one we're sitting at right now!" Dredge smiled, showing that he did not think that was likely. "Maybe we just have to be in the right place at the right time. Maybe I was drunk and it didn't happen. Maybe it's gone. It's a mystery!" Dredge shrugs and takes a swig of ale.
* Mission relating to Dredge.
* Dredge's character info
Manaya enters the Snapping Line, cloaked and hooded, and sits with Yakeerk, Susk, and Rask, nodding to them. The inn is a little busier now, so not many pay her any attention as everyone is wrapped up talking with their friends and comrades.
Yga and Zaerra come back to the group. Manaya orders a wine and drinks it while the others wait to hear what she has to say.
"Those symbols you showed me. Don't take it out, in fact never show it to anyone you don't trust with your life, but let me talk about the symbol with the eye first."
"The eye symbol you have in your possession was taken from an initiate of the Esoteric Order of Dagon. The EoD is a cult that worships an aquatic being of chaos and destruction known as Dagon. Dagon is an Elder Evil, as these types of powerful beings are called, who is aligned with, and may even be an aspect of, Tharizdun, the Chained God, the Elder Elemental Eye. A being so powerful and destructive that evil and good aligned gods alike allied together to imprison it during the Dawn War."
"But back to this symbol: This is the symbol carried by an initiate. As you progress into the greater mysteries of the cult, your symbol changes into an eye with a triangle around it, then the senior cultists have a symbol of a circle with teeth, representing Dagon's maw, often surrounded by a triangle with tentacles. This symbol is often seen in areas of cultist activity. These cultists want to bring their deity Dagon into the world. This would be a cataclysmic event. We believe that the Ancient Empire was destroyed by Dagon a millenia ago."
Manaya continues. "We know that the Esoteric Order of Dagon is operating in Saltmarsh. We do not know all the ways they are involved or how, or who all the members are. We know which organisation they have infiltrated, but we don't know how far their reach is. All the way to the Town Council? Maybe. We know a lot but not everything."
"But who is 'we'?" asks Yakeerk, voicing the question they were all thinking.
"This brings me to the second symbol that Zaerra showed me. This is a symbol of my order. The helmet represents the concept of a guardian, or watchfulness. We are known as 'The Secret Society' or just 'The Society'. We are an order dedicated to fighting against any group that would bring harm to the world. But our fortunes declined during the 100 Year War, and so we are few in number because we do not promise wealth, power, and connections, while the number of EoD cultists, who do promise those things, have grown. In addition cultists in power have declared The Society an evil cult that must be stamped out. Like a narcissist they accuse us of doing the things they do themselves. So now EoD cultists and government agents hunt us down, and are doing so successfully. We think someone must have infiltrated our order because EoD intelligence on our members and travel is very good. The cultists killed a Society member who travelled here from the capital Londar. You found his body on the beach. We fight a secret war in the shadows. And we are losing."
Manaya turns to Zaerra. "I saw you talking to Dredge Luckton over there, and he wasn't abusing you. Do you have some kind of friendly relationship with him?" Zaerra gets from Manaya's intense gaze and tone that this is not a casual question.
Yga suddenly remembers talking about Manaya to his friend at Primewater Mansion, Feliza Tippletopple, the head chef. At the time Feliza said to Yga: "Manaya is a bit of a people watcher. I sometimes see her observing people out the window. Now I come to think of it, do you know that little disapproving pursing of the lips she does? Well, it's probably an unconscious expression, but she does it whenever she sees a priest or acolyte of the Church of the Sea Mother. Pretty strange, hey?"
"I wouldn't say we are the best of friends but we have helped him and he has helped us. Everyone has some good in them, I guess we found Dredge's good side. Do you not see the good in Dredge?", Zaerra gives a little so so hand wave whilst she says this.