Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh

     Cook is at a loss.

     Puzzled. Confused. Confuzzled at the notion of not knowing your own sister.  He looks from the corpse to Darixa and back again several times, trying to judge any resemblance for himself. But it’s no good—the stillness of one and the overwhelming emotion of the other make any comparison impossible.

     When Darixa cries out, demanding to know why she wasn’t told sooner, Cook instinctively takes a step forward.

     “Now hold on just a—” he starts, ready to protest that it isn’t fair—

     But Brynn is already there.

     Not arguing. Not correcting. Just… comforting.

     Cook stops himself.

     “…Right,” he mutters under his breath, stepping back again.

     After a moment, he tries—awkwardly—to offer something of his own.

     “I can’t imagine you’d have missed that armor if she’d been around long,” he says, shuffling his feet a little. “Stands out, that does.”

     He hesitates, then adds more quietly, “The dents and all… I’d wager the grubs came after she’d passed.”

     Cook nods along as Esme speaks, silently backing her efforts to reach Darixa. But when the suggestion of burying the body comes up, he pauses.

     He sniffs.

     Then sniffs again.

     Not from grief—though his heart does weigh heavy for Darixa—but because something else has caught his attention.

     “Not to be crass,” he says carefully, “but your sister… Ainura… she’s been resting here a while already. A bit longer won’t do her any further harm.”

     He pauses, bracing himself for backlash...  Then thinks better of it and presses on quickly.  “That ham I mentioned earlier?” He gestures slightly, sniffing the air again for emphasis. “It’s not cooking anymore. It’s burning.”

     Cook’s expression hardens just a touch.  “The cook’s not minding their pot. Which means they’re either getting ready to deal with us… or getting ready to run.”

     A beat.

     “My money’s on us not wanting to let either of those happen.”

     He nods once, decisive.

     “Best we see to it now.”

Darixa, leaning against Brynn and focused on them, does not really notice Esme until she speaks. She looks at her when she says 'culprits', the word seeming to stick in her mind. She then looks up at Cook, his words eventually reaching her. The tears seem to have ceased, though her face is still clearly tear stained. "We have to see to it now? Alright."

She lets go of Brynn's arm, noticing their sleeve that is now wet with her tears. She catches their eye and simply mouths the words 'Thank you.'  With that she stands up and makes a show of dusting herself off. "Yea. Ainura, you just keep watch here a bit longer and we'll be back."  Trying to sound as though she's past the grief, her face tells a different story as she looks around at everyone else. "Where do we go then? Can we tell where the smell's coming from? Whatever we do, we should move quickly." 

Brynn takes her in when she leans on them, wrapping their arm around Darixa to hold while she cried. They didn't shush her, or tell her to calm. They'd lead with deep breaths in, expanding their chest, and exhaling out, in quiet guidance, and reminder, for Darixa to take her breaths as she can. They'd keep them steady throughout, even if tears stain their shirt, they listen as she's able to find her words. Ainura, her big sister. They too listen as Esme would come to provide thoughts and words of comfort.

After some moments of silence, Brynn gently starts to brush some stray strands of hair from Darixa's face. "Nothin' to be sorry for." They assure gently. "I'm sorry for your loss. That your search for your sister came to an end here." After a beat, they continue in effort to try to respond to her questions. They were a fixer after all. Even if they didn't have all of the answers, they'd share what they did know, and help with filling in the rest.

It was fair for Darixa to wonder whether her sister had been in the area all along, however at this time, there's no intelligence that Brynn's currently aware of, to rule 'yay' or 'nay' on that. When it comes to the cause of death though, that was something factual they could provide insight on. "Don't think it was the maggots." Those most likely took up residence after the fact, through the decaying process. "There was some brutal clubbing..." Brynn's unable to break habit of the blunt matter of fact way they present information, but that doesn't mean the sound of their voice wasn't respectful or tender in it's tone. "But, she was also poisoned." They let those words hang in the air a moment. It's often said poison's a woman's weapon, or a coward's. Usually. Though, they wouldn't want to make firm assumptions at this point.

(Would Brynn's medicine check on cause of death, and investigation on the bottle, have provided any insight as to whether she was poisoned via consumption, perhaps the wine, or by other means such as gas, bite, or laced weapon?)

"Honestly though..." Paranoid or not, considering the coincidences already experienced this short into the job... "I find myself wondering if someone knew, an' strategically arranged fer D to come here." They decided not to keep those thoughts to themselves, eyes finding Darixa's. "No running off alone, yeah?" There may be a little sense of protection taking root in them. "We got more questions than certainties." They admit. "So lets start finding answers, eh?" Brynn's signature grin pulls back over their lips.

Then they nod in agreement, and encouragement of the decision Esme presented. While yes it may be a hard decision, and hold a sense of heavy pressure, but it really was Darixa's to make. "There's no 'wrong' choice." Brynn encourages gently. "Yes, either decision will come with it's own challenges, an' potential consequences," They acknowledge the reality. "But we'll figure it out along the way, kay?" There's assurance in their voice, supporting Darixa in her choice.

Having Seri near brought Brynn their own form of comfort in this situation. While it may not be their personal practice, or something they say out loud, it is something they quietly acknowledge in themselves that Seri's presence, her faith, provided a sense of peace that Ainura's dignity could be preserved, and proper respects could be paid while navigating this path.

(Edit: Oop! Took me longer than expected, and a little cross postage, but not world breaking. All good! A little strike out as she appeared to have made the choice :) )

Deep down, Seri knows she is no true priest.

And so does the Wave Father.  Of this, she has no doubt.  Despite the wishes of the priests who raised and mentored her at the Temple of Procan in Seaton, and even Wellgar Brinehanded, the gruff priest at Saltmarsh's Temple who she had just called earlier in the day, she is devoted to Procan, aye, and aspires to honor Him, but rituals and cloistered, landbound halls have never truly been for her.  This she had discovered for certain aboard the Dragonfly...

Yet she considers Darixa a friend, and seeing her friend in pain beside her sister's smashed and rotting corpse, Seri takes a knee and does the best she can, as she had on occasion during her tour on the Dragonfly for lost crewmates.  Giving Darixa enough space for her grief, Seri softly murmurs belated last rites for Ainura, trying to remember all the words she should know by heart.  Yet more heartfelt words keep taking the place of the rote ones.

Procan.  May your fallen daughter Ainura find a peace that was denied her in her last moments, and fair winds and following seas in Your great oceans beyond, free to chase Your blue horizons with abandon as unfettered spirits do.  Imbue her sister Darixa and us, her companions, with Your wild strength and fury so that we may seek out those who have defiled Your shores with this treachery and cleanse this coastal outpost with the salt of their blood.

Drawing a shuddering breath as she finishes, Seri rises from one knee to stand listening to the others, ready to follow.  A stray thought crosses her mind.

If this Councilor Solmor sent Ainura alone here to her death for his own politics or gold, weeks before sending us, then truly, he has much to answer for.

The young Rhenee beauty stands up along with the others, a soft smile over the brief tenderness shown between the grieving and the comforting. Finding the dead sister was quite a mystery though, seemed like too much of a coincindence, but on the other hand nothing really made sense over this revelation. Perhaps they would find answers in time.

"I would venture to guess the cooking is taking place somewhere beyond that secret door, and that those who would have eaten is ready for us now. While we must expect them to attack, storming through the secret door might find us in an ambush, yes." Esme says, staying wary, as is Thistle at her shoulder. "We could consider setting an ambush of our own." She suggests, then going silent to listen for the sound of enemy movement, ready for them to burst into the wine cellar at any moment.

(Perception: 21)

(Would Brynn's medicine check on cause of death, and investigation on the bottle, have provided any insight as to whether she was poisoned via consumption, perhaps the wine, or by other means such as gas, bite, or laced weapon?)

Not by normal means.  It’s mingled with a touch of necrotic residual effect.

Esme’s perception of 21.

 Seri and Darixa as Eventide finishes her honest last rites a brief soft light emits from the armored figure, now seeming empty.  Perhaps it’s just a feeling or perhaps…

"Well, there's definitely someone there on the other side. I would prefer not to just storm through or we could face the same fate as the brave sister, but I suppose we are in danger whatever we decide to do." Esme adds quietly after having listened for sounds of the enemy, still wary of an attack but ready to follow along with what her new companions decided on.

Meanwhile Thistle takes a quick peek upstairs to make sure the slavers weren't coming that way.

     “Let’s just open the door and get on with it, aye?” Cook mutters, the edge of impatience creeping in. “We can crack it a hair first, let your wee friend slip through and have a look, if you like... but for all we know they’re on the other side there right now setting a barricade trapping us here as they burn the whole place down on top of us.”

•      If the secret door has been pointed out and the method of opening it is clear, Cook steps into position without much hesitation. He waits just long enough for the others to fall in behind him and then eases the door open a crack, giving the little fae a chance to dart through and scout ahead.
•      If, however, the door, or how to open it, is still unclear, Cook simply turns and fixes Brynn with a steady, expectant look.

The young Rhenee beauty merely nods grimly as the decision is made, readying herself for the likely battle to come.
Cook meanwhile hears a quiet flutter of tiny wings quiet near him as the invisible Thistle moves into position to make some forward scouting.

Darixa is honored with Seri's prayers. She truly hopes this has given Ainura some peace.  It definitely makes her feel better about leaving the body here for a moment, though she still plans to see to a proper burial. 

Not really feeling very invested in deciding what to do, she is fine when Cook goes to open the hidden door. She moves to put herself out of direct view of the passage should anything be there when it's opened.  

Seri posts up behind Cook, small driftwood shield donned, positioned to be second to enter whatever is beyond the (apparent) hidden door.

She murmurs her usual prayer for Procan's guidance should she need to engage in acrobatics to evade any hazard that ambushers may have set up.

Brynn caught the quiet thank you from Darixa and answered it with a small nod. Nothing flashy, just steady. Present.

When Seri finishes, Brynn’s gaze lingers a moment longer than usual on the now stilled form below. They don’t speak to the prayer itself, but there’s a subtle shift in their posture, something quieter and respectful. “Aye…” they murmur under their breath. Not agreement in faith, but in sentiment.

Then the moment passes. Because it has to.

Brynn exhales once through their nose and steps forward, crouching briefly at the base of the wall. With a practised motion, they sweep up the caltrops they’d set earlier, the metal pieces clicking softly as they disappear back into their pouch. “No sense leavin’ surprises fer ourselves...” They note.

They rise and give the seam in the wall a light tap with their knuckles before gesturing to Cook. “Pressure point’s here. Slides clean if ya give it a firm push, but don’t force it past that.”
(Just guessing/generic instructions for Cook.)

As Cook would move into position, Brynn doesn’t follow immediately. Instead, they shift. They take a step back and to the side, placing themself between the cellar and the corridor beyond, angled in such a way that anything coming through that door would have to pass them before it ever reached Ainura. They don’t announce it. Don’t draw attention. They just stand there. Solid. Brass fingers flex once with a quiet click. “Go on then.” Brynn says, voice low but steady. “Let’s see what’s been mindin’ the cookin’.”

The hidden door opens without a sound, but also without a handle that Cook could see and so as the door fully opens there is a noticeable but not as loud as expected thud.  Thistle is already around the opening (expected that was the idea).  Seri has already cast guidance, Brynn is standing with Darixa ready for whatever...

This torchlit chamber was once a large cellar, but it has since been converted into living quarters. Ten crude beds stand along the south wall, each with a wooden locker at its foot.  A long wooden trestle table ringed by rickety stools dominates the center of the room. Metal cutlery, cups, and dirty plates sit atop the table.  A cookstove is installed near the table, and a large ham has been left to overcook in pots atop it. A sturdy set of stairs leads to a trapdoor in the ceiling above. There are two wooden doors in the east side of the room (unnoticed as of yet).

turn order is Thistle 24, Bandits 13, Brynn 12, Esme 12, Cook 10, Scout 8, Seri 5, Darixa 3

the Scout is hidden under the stairs currently, until they move the bandits have partial cover.

Round 1  Bandiits 1 & 2

Bandit 1 readies an attack for the first person through the door.  Attack 20 damage 7 piercing.

A crossbow bolt nicks Cook’s right shoulder as his attacker ducks back around the corner…

Bandit 2 attack 20 damage 3 piercing.

Brynn Esme & Cook are up.

(I'm assuming Bandit 2 attacked Cook as well since he was in front of everyone else.  Also assuming B2 was also using a crossbow...)

     “Look who’s come to din...”

     Cook’s voice carries loud and cheerful... forced, but committed... right up until the moment a crossbow bolt thuds into his shoulder.

     He jerks with a sharp grunt and then a second bolt slams in from another angle.

     The cheer, forced or not, vanishes.

     “Ah ye ruddy bastard ya!” Cook snarls, the words breaking into a pained curse as his mood sours entirely.

     Up until that moment, this had all felt like a nuisance. A chore. Something to be groused about over drinks later. Maybe a scrap if things went sideways but nothing truly dangerous. Even after the corpse. That had been… other people. Not his people. Not him.

     And yet here he stood, bolts buried in his shoulder, the reality of it settling in hard and fast. This could kill his people. This could kill hisself... The thought lasts exactly as long as it takes for his temper flare.

     “Oh, you’re in for it now,” Cook growls, charging forward.

     He barrels past the fireplace, past the table, grabbing up a rickety stool as he goes. The wood creaks in protest as he swings in close on the first bandit.

     Cook leads with a heavy, meaty punch - a proper knuckle sandwich - before bringing the stool around in a brutal follow-up, smashing it upside the man’s head with all the force he can muster.

Movement:  Into room and to Bandit 1 - I should have just enough to engage.
Action:  Attack - Unarmed Strike vs Bandit 1 for 9 to hit for 9 bludgeoning damage.
     Cook is all good and pissed off over been shot and all so he'll add the Bardic Inspiration he got earlier to the attack roll since I am guessing a 9 doesn't hit and make it a 15 to hit for the same 9 bludgeoning damage instead... (Sweet!  Was totally expecting to roll a 1 on the bardic inspiration die...)
Bonus Action:  Attack again - Improvised Weapon Attack vs Bandit 1 with stool for 19 to hit and 5 bludgeoning damage.  
     Improvised Weapons, for Pugilists, have the Sap Property so if that hits they have disadvantage on their next attack roll before Cook's next turn...

Cook charges in and wrecks bandit 1 with unrestrained violence.  The bandit drops its crossbow reaching for his sword… brow bloodied and knees weak, as the stool crashes down ending his resistance.  Dead.

The tiny invisible fae swoops towards the slaver ahead and distracts him just as Esmeralda follows the cook into the fray and places her Rhenee hex on the slaver before sending a bolt of witch-green eldritch force towards him, then stepping back out the room and into cover.

Eldritch Blast: 27 Force: 8 Necrotic: 10

Esme’s eldritch blast blackens a slaver!  Whose scream is loud and agonized.  His crossbow tossed aside, as he falls silent.  Dead.

Brynn strides in next after Cook and Esme, their boots hitting the ground with purpose. "Yoohoo!" They chime as they step deep into the space in attempt to get a better vantage point of both the hallway, and their 'host' taking cover behind the stairs. "Guests have arrived!" There's a few shifts and clicks of their prosthetic as they went, preparing one of their newer additions. "Why dont'chya come out an' join us?" The shipwright encourages. With one final click, a vial is ejected from the base of their wrist into their palm "I've even brought ya a lil somethin'" And Brynn lobs it at the Scout, causing it to shatter and grease to spatter.

(Movement: Full 30ft into the space)
(Casting: Grease Dex DC 15)

The scout falls prone.  Scrabbles around trying to get to the corner of the room.  Opens a secret door and gets up fleeing into the area beyond.

movement crawl over difficult terrain get up object interaction to open door, dash action to move into unknown area.

Seri & Draxia’s turns