Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh

Quote from Culuril>>

(OOC - Given Esme is upstairs and away from the stair, what exactly is Cook throwing at? And I too was not quite sure what part of the hair is like Darixa. She never moved from her spot relatively near the top of the stair, so not sure how well she can see anyhow.) 

((I'm imagining he walked to the bottom of the staircase, held up the bottle for her to see, then did his best to toss it up to her... But she walked away from the stairs?  Like back into the house?  I kind of figured if she called down mentioning the wine she was still at least staircase adjacent.))

Esme is magically afraid that the stairs are death/damnation even seeing her companions using the stairs she simply cannot approach she doesn’t have to flee, but she can’t approach (for 15 min then it ends and she may act normally)

The wine bottle is fumbled and smashes at the foot of the stairs, oops.  The expensive looking label of a ‘jauntily dressed unicorn’ is soaking in its contents.

Darixa

The only thing that comes to mind regarding fireflies is a childhood memory of a campfire tale your father told you and your sister.  Fireflies revealing the movement of enemies trying to capture your family- it is the only reference you can recall.

"Fine filigree of fireflies decorating them all."  

"Fireflies," Seri muses.  "Just as the locket from the well outside is stylized with a firefly.  Perhaps it is the sigil of those who once lived here.  The corpse below may be a descendent who came back to reclaim the abode from Sea Prince slavers, or whoever is here now?"

She pulls the locket from her pack to show Darixa and Cook if they like (once the party is together again, upstairs or downstairs).

Seri has already stated her opinion: she thinks even if there is a secret passage downstairs (as she suspects), the party should instead continue following boot prints upstairs, because the alarm may have alerted the house's occupants so they expect us to use the secret passage and it is better to cross up their expectations.  But she is willing to take whatever route her companions choose.  A navigator makes suggestions but not the decision.

Darixa, standing still near the top of the stairs, is startled when the wine bottle smashes apart. "Hey Cook! You can't just be throwing stuff like that around!" Her tone is more one of surprise than any real concern. 

Slowly she creeps down a bit further, though she turns back towards Seri as that woman speaks. "What other footprints do you mean? Seems like if there's a hidden door here that would be the more interesting place to look."  She looks at Brynn. "You see any way to follow where those prints went?" She takes a look herself, though still keep on the steps. (Perception: 10) 

As she waits for Brynn to take a look, she again plays a little tune, singing (OOC - Granting Inspiration to Brynn: once within the next hour, when failing a D20 Test, can roll 1d6 and add the number rolled to the total.): 

'Whiskey is the life of man
Always was since the world began

Whiskey here, whiskey there
Whiskey almost everywhere

Whiskey up and whiskey down
Whiskey all around the town'

(OOC - Also, plan to look at the locket Seri is showing her once we all are together. I think she's still upstairs while Darixa went down the stairs a bit at this point.) 

Slowly she creeps down a bit further, though she turns back towards Seri as that woman speaks. "What other footprints do you mean? Seems like if there's a hidden door here that would be the more interesting place to look."  She looks at Brynn. "You see any way to follow where those prints went?" She takes a look herself, though still keep on the steps. (Perception: 10) 

"I suppose I merely meant following the prints in the other direction, towards their source, as if against a current.  Perhaps they come from a seaward window where the snakes reported seeing a light, possibly also visible to Sea Prince ships out at sea.  However, if the group's decision is to follow these prints forward down the stairs, likely to a concealed passageway, that does also make sense, and I am content to set course there."

And indeed, if everyone, including the previously reluctant Esme, seems agreed to follow the prints to where they lead in the wine cellar, Seri follows, whispering for Procan's Guidance once more.  Once downstairs, she attempts to discern (possibly with help?) any telltale signs on the wall to which the boot prints lead of a hidden entryway at the wall.  Though the presence of the rotting corpse distracts her usual perceptiveness a bit.

Seri's Perception plus Guidance:  12 + 1 = 13 (or 15 + 1 = 16 with help).

(She also produces the electrum firefly locket with the missing picture for Darixa to inspect if she wishes, or take for herself if it seems meaningful to her.)

Finally feeling the terror of the the wine cellar lifting, Esmeralda takes a deep breath and follws the others downstairs, careful to not step in the expensive wine. "Such a waste." She says with a small smile, shaking her head but clearly not overly concerned with the spent bottle. "So, let us find out where these mysterious footprints end up, yes." She says to no one in particular, trying to assist the others with the ongoing investigation.

Investigation: 6 Perception assisted by Thistle: 23

     “It slipped!” Cook declares defensively after Darixa yells at him.  “There was grub juice on my hand…”  He wipes his hand off on his clothes as if in some kind of demonstration of the fact.

     While people start looking for the expected secret passage and Esme finally comes down the steps, cook looks around idly about the room, including the stairs.  “If the scream was some kind of magic warning thing will it go off again if we pass by it again?” He wonders aloud.  Surely whoever it was meant to warn is already warned but still, he wasn’t looking to hear it again.

     “And does anyone else smell that?” He asks a bit later.  “Like ham being cooked.  Or is it just me bemoaning the losses I’m taking but not having my cart open for business?”  He never did as much business when it was raining but that’s beside the point.

     Mostly Cook just idles around.  The others seem to have a handle on trying to figure out if there actually is a hidden passage or not so he mostly just tries to stay out of their way while maybe chiming in a suggestion here or there.  He doesn’t wander far as there’s not far to wander and he wants to be close so he can be first through if something is found…

Brynn lets out a slow breath as the last of the grubs are dealt with, their posture easing just a fraction now that nothing is actively trying to burrow into anyone. “...Well.” They mutter, glancing between Cook and the now much less animated corpse. “That’s one way to make friends.”

Their gaze drops to the shattered glass, the soaked label near the base of the stairs. They a few steps and reach down, picking up the label carefully between two fingers, turning it just enough to read what remains. A faint whistle escapes them. “Cook…” They call without looking up. “You just murdered a very expensive bottle.” A beat. Stated in their signature dry humour. “…Fifty gold, give or take.” They fold up the fragment and tuck it in a pocket with surprising care for something already ruined. “…shame.”

The sound of their boots hit the floor once more as they move close in on the body next. Their gaze drifts down again, more deliberate this time. Brynn crouches, not touching at this time. Simply assessing. “Armour’s solid fer sure.” Brynn agrees with Cook's original comments about it, tapping lightly against one of the dented plates with their brass knuckles. Tink. “Banged up, but not done. If not protection fer one of us. It’s coin… or material.” A faint hum of approval. “Firefly work too… consistent across the set.” They note thoughtfully, soon thinking about the earlier locket without a picture.
(Medicine Check: 17 to learn, if we haven't yet, how they died and/or how long they've been dead.)

Their eyes shift briefly toward Seri as if she had been reading their mind when she makes mention of the locket. “I would agree that it's too similar to be a coincidence...” They admit.

Then their attention moves again, slower now, toward the corpse itself. They go still. Just for a second. “…Huh.” It’s quieter. Brynn tilts their head slightly, studying the face beneath the decay, the line of the jaw, the hair... Their eyes flick, almost involuntarily, up toward Darixa on the stairs, eyes meeting hers even just for a brief moment. Then back. “That's...” They start, then stop themself, exhaling lightly through their nose. They don’t say it outright. Not yet. “We’ll come back to that.” They say under their breath to themself. Another 'coincidence'?

Brynn rises, rolling their shoulder once before turning toward the wall the others had indicated. They don’t hesitate this time. “Tracks end here fer a reason.” They agree as their fingers trace along the stone, not searching blindly but following the logic of construction, seams, inconsistencies, pressure points. They fall silent, listening, the sound of Darixa's music moves through them as they move through their motions. Soon, they let out a small, satisfied grunt. “There...” Then glance back over their shoulder. “Yup. Hidden door." They confirm everyone's suspicions. "Clean work too. No obvious trap, at least not the kind meant to catch someone like me poking at it.” Their brass fingers flex once.

A small tilt of their head toward the others. “So, we’ve got a magical alarm already tripped, a dead knight with matching jewellery to what we found outside, and now a hidden passage where tracks go...” They continue to summarize all the information the group discovered and discussed. “There's more tracks upstairs, an' someone’s cookin’, that's not our resident Chef.” That last bit is directed at Cook with a quick glance. 

"Truth be told, I felt pressed to chase through this secret passage." Brynn admits, then looks to Seri with a nod. "But now knowin' the scream was a fake, an' considering it could be a misdirect, I'd be satisfied with the groups choice to clear the rest of the home before we clear the passage." They glance over their shoulder. Brynn still questioned whether whatever’s behind this door could be time sensitive. However, they couldn't ignore the others points about potentials at their back.

Their eyes flick between Seri, Darixa, and Cook. “Upstairs clears our flank.” A nod toward the wall. “This pushes forward.” They boil down the two choices. "I prefer to be thorough, than hasty." Their signature grin tugs at their lips.  

“But a little insurance shouldn't hurt us...” Brynn then reaches into one of the smaller pouches at their belt. There's a soft jingle of metal. They scatter a small handful of caltrops just beyond the threshold of where the door would open. They're not placed carelessly, but with intent. A slight adjustment here. A nudge there. Spacing them just enough to catch a hurried step, but not so obvious as to be spotted at a glance. they say simply, brushing their hands off as they rise

"Common then." They say simply, brushing their hands off as they rise. "Let's get crackin'." They gesture up the stairs, moving to join the others.

Brynn soon brings themself to fall in step with Darixa. "Aye... D?" They prompt quietly, hand reaching back to rub at the back of their neck. "Does the Firefly filigree mean anything to you?" They start with a round about question, less direct, though as their eyes look at her, they can help but trace her visage, and her hair.

"I..." Their lips purse and move in a way that is obvious enough that they're trying to find a way to communicate what they saw, something that may, or may not, be something sensitive. "D." They exhale a breath. "I noticed something, an' I thought I should run it by you... An' now that I'm tryin' to find the words, it might sound... weird." Creepy? "But um... the body in the basement... it uh... has the same hair as you." They lift a hand slightly, not pointing, just indicating in general, colour, texture, length. “I’m not sayin’ it means anything...” Brynn adds quickly, tone steady but careful. “Just… close enough I figured it was worth mentionin’.”

(Medicine Check: 17 to learn, if we haven't yet, how they died and/or how long they've been dead.)

She’s been dead about a month best guess, looks like poison and a brutal clubbing.

As everyone heads up from the cellar, there is a brief moment where a centipede about 2 feet long rushes into a pipe under the sink…

"Smell?" Darixa says to Cook as she catches his comment. She pauses to try and see if she notices the smell as well. (Perception: 18)

She had then grabbed the locket from Seri, and took a moment to look closely at the firefly etched on it. Wondering if it might seem familiar. (OOC - Not sure if a roll is needed here?)

When Brynn sets the caltrops and motions for the group to search upstairs first, she starts up the stairs. She's curious though when Brynn comes alongside, tilting her head as she listens to them. "Fireflies? Well..."

She hadn't ever really gotten over close to the body or looked at the armor. And now they were out of the basement. But there was the locket. "I'm not really sure..."

As they go on, she repeats their words again. "Same hair? What do you mean?" She stops walking, glancing back the way they had come. "I remember my father once saying something about fireflies," she mutters. Surely this couldn't be related.  

Darixa

  You can smell a ham, it’s not just any ham though it’s a smoked ham with roasted veggies the smell is incredible.

  The locket.  It’s very familiar you gave it to your sister, feels like forever ago…

Before they had headed out of the basement, Darixa had commented to Cook, "I can smell ham. Smoked ham with roasted vegetables." It hadn't been enough though to keep her down there when Brynn suggested starting their search above.  

Later, still standing in place, Darixa pulls out the locket once again. "Wait!" She shakes her head with disbelief then looks over at Brynn before they even had a chance to respond. "We have to go back down there! That woman in armor... you're saying she looked a bit like me, aren't you?"  Still not waiting for an answer, and with no further word to the others, she moves to head back down the stairs.  

     “Fifty, you say?” Cook replies to Brynn, his voice going a touch la-di-da. “Well then, I suppose I’ll just deduct your share from the tab you’ve got running at my cart, eh?”

     She may not see it as she studies the label, but Cook’s smirk is very much there.

     He turns to Darixa as she comments on the aroma of the ham, his expression brightening.

     “Aye, smells like a fine meal,” he agrees—then his tone darkens just a shade. “Let’s just hope they’re as good with the preparation as they are with the cooking. I’d hate to bite into it and find a grub staring back at me…”

     Cook is not always the most generous reviewer of other cooks. Especially those he doesn’t know. Or trust.

     Cook isn’t entirely sold on clearing the house before checking what lies behind secret door number one, but he’s resigned himself to not arguing the point. Others are already moving, and he falls in with them as they step back into the kitchen.

     He’s just in time to catch sight of a long, squirming thing—some manner of oversized bug—shooting into a pipe to escape the light.

     Cook watches it go, then grimaces.

     “I’m starting to doubt this place sees much proper living,” he mutters. “Giant weasels outside, snakes in the grass, bugs in the pipes—and likely in the walls as well. This place is fit for burning, not living.”

     He looks like he’s about to continue when Darixa suddenly calls, “Wait!” and turns on her heel, heading back downstairs while talking about something Cook only half catches.

     Cook sighs, shrugs, and turns to follow.

     “Probably just as well,” he mutters as he goes. “If this place is being used by slavers, my coin’s on them being behind that secret door—not up here with the crawlies.”

     He gives a small shake of his head.

     “They’d like as not be long gone by the time we made it back down after searching everything above.”

Esme is too distracted by the corpse to be of much use with finding the secret door, but she smiles appreciately as Brynn does, listening as they recapitulates what they knew so far, gently bit her lower full lip as she pondered what it all meant for their mission. She nods in agreement as Brynn leads the way upstairs but stops and gives Darixa a concerned look as the tanned girl suddenly heads back down the stairs, quickly following her, processing what she just heard about the dead one looking like the tanned girl, afraid to even think about what it might mean, standing close to be able to support the girl if her fears was confirmed.

Quote from Culuril >>

Before they had headed out of the basement, Darixa had commented to Cook, "I can smell ham. Smoked ham with roasted vegetables." It hadn't been enough though to keep her down there when Brynn suggested starting their search above.  

Later, still standing in place, Darixa pulls out the locket once again. "Wait!" She shakes her head with disbelief then looks over at Brynn before they even had a chance to respond. "We have to go back down there! That woman in armor... you're saying she looked a bit like me, aren't you?"  Still not waiting for an answer, and with no further word to the others, she moves to head back down the stairs.  

 Back in the cellar Darixa looks at the body clad in dark bronze, the hair about the head… It’s been a long time.  Could this really be?  This locket matches her sister’s but maybe it was stolen, maybe it’s not so unique, maybe this is a trap.  Maybe, maybe, maybe

Why here, why now, what does it mean?  There is a panic and a sadness and a rage…  (unless posted otherwise)

*  It is Darixa’s sister (even if not confirmed she knows in her heart)

After studying the corpse, Darixa's face is a mix of emotions. Finally, she whispers, "Ainura?" 

She turns as she becomes aware that others followed. "I think... maybe..."  She shows whoever is looking the locket she's now holding. "I think I actually gave this to my sister long time ago. I barely remember it, so maybe it isn't, and maybe it just looks like it." Her voice is rather shaky. "But she does look like she could be my sister. Of course, she was younger last I saw her. And..."  She seems lost for a moment as she starts to cry.

Suddenly though she yells out, "You guys should have told me before we started walking off! I almost walked off not knowing it's my sister!"  Her eyes scan for Brynn; as the one who told her of the resemblance, she seems to hold them accountable. "Why? Why didn't you tell me sooner!" 

She falls to her knees, looking again at the mutilated corpse as tears fall down her face. She seems to mumble to herself as she takes it in. 

Darixa has Brynn's ear as she made her way through the hard questions they posed, slowing their steps in time with hers until they stop. They didn't want their gut feeling back there to be correct. Believe it or not, there were times Brynn didn't enjoy being right. And as Darixa came to the realization, soon confirming that they did come upon her kin, this was one of those times.

As they find themselves back at the scene in the basement, Brynn was mindful not to crowd, however was also never far from reach. They've been chewing their lip, playing the series of events over, and over, in their mind. Naturally, their mind took the logical route first, having methodically gone through all of their investigations so they could report back to the group waiting for a decision. There came a point they were guilty of rushing through things, and through that haste, they didn't prioritize the human aspects of their discoveries. Even if they framed it as waiting for a better time, it doesn't excuse their blunder of making assumptions the group wanted to clear the rest of the house first, and the mechanics of trying to move things along for efficiency. They never intended on, and would have never, let Darixa leave without knowing it was her sister, or pay the respects she wishes. It is why Brynn never stripped the armour from the body. It's why they invested the death in further detail. It's why they set the caltrops, to protect her too in case something came from the passage.

Regardless of intentions or reasoning, others perceptions and emotions that are in result of, are still valid and true.

So when Darixa's gaze finds theirs, Brynn's eyes are softened, not shying. She'd find them calm, maybe even grounding when they do not flinch as her voice fills the space with truth and passion. Brynn's body language is not one of defense to reflect back, but one ready to accept and absorb. The shipwright then brings themself to a knee with Darixa. "Yer right. An' I'm sorry." Their voice was low. Not having a clean rag to offer as a hanky, they reach out an arm to offer their shoulder, or sleeve. "I should have done better for you, D." Their words are sincere. "You deserved better than that."

As Brynn offers their presence, Darixa seems completely overcome. She leans against them, crying for a few moments before she can even speak. Her voice is meek. "Sorry, it's not you Brynn." Taking a few more breaths to collect herself, she then says, "Ainura was my big sister. I mean, it's been... years since she left with dad. But I thought..." She shakes her head. "Rumor of her is what brought me to Saltmarsh. Over a year ago. Could she have been in this area all this time and I never found her? When she was... well... alive?" 

It's a while before she calms more. "Do you know what... what was it... what caused her death? Was it those maggots?" The thought gives her a shudder. "We'll have to figure out what happened to her. What she was doing here. And we'll have to bury her, won't we? I guess, does that mean bring her back to town?" She just sits there, now looking at Brynn for answers. Darixa seems to have forgotten all about whatever they were here to do.  

The young Rhenee was no stranger to death but she could still only imagine what Darixa was going through. She had no real sister herself, as far as she knew, but family and blood was important, perhaps even moreso for the Rhenee than for others, and she knew she wouldn't rest until her close one would be avenged, her teeth gritting as she felt herself seething with anger at the mere thought. Her attention then goes to the grieving girl, gracefully kneeling at her other side to show her compassion, gently placing a conforting hand on the tanned girl's knee. "I think your sister came here as we did, investigating, and died fighting the slavers that likely hide here. She must have been brave your sister, we will help you to give her justice." Esmeralda says with a proud Rhenee pledge. "But there must also be a time to grieve. This must be overwhelming to you dear, but we have to decide if we bury your sister now or if we hunt down the culprits first. The decision is yours Darixa." She says softly, giving the girl a tender look. She understood it might be a hard decision to make, but none the less it had to be made. What had started out as an almost exciting investigation had now turned into a grim reminder of how close death wandered to them all. Outwardly the young Rhenee stays calm and compassionate, but her thoughts are still in a turmoil over the revelation that it was the sweet girl's sister that lay dead before them.

‘Monte’ Cook watching the scene unfold, your heart heavy, you’ve always talked with and fed folks through tough times.  You can’t help but smell the smells from the other side of the secret door.  Rosemary Sage Thyme roasting over garden veggies and a smoked ham… it’s been left to burn you can tell it’s overcooking…

Sera’ele Eventide you have witnessed the loss of fellow sailors at sea, it’s never easy.  Others have looked to you for closure or support.  Perhaps this is more unexpected more personal, still Brynn’s words ring true, there will be a time to grieve…

 Esmeralda Harrow you’re still shaking off the physical aftereffects of the magical fear, but in your gut you know whoever placed that ward may still be roaming this place.  Whatever crew did this has no problem leaving a body to rot as a deterrent to whatever is going on here.

Brynn Breakwater the loss of your arm was tragic, but it also became a journey, you had to move on.  It was never a choice for you to just quit, though you’ve seen others do just that, wallowing in self pity drinking away their pain.  You believe this is a similar moment and right now it’s raw, but you feel a bond forming.  Whatever is behind this has no idea what they may have unleashed.