Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh

Brynn has quite a lot of scrap if desired, might require another trip to collect the bulk.

Amongst the wooden tables and workbenches- Brynn discovers a hidden compartment once trapped but long since the trap has malfunctioned.  Inside the formerly trapped hidden compartment is a book with golden covers and gold gilded pages… 

Brynn your assessment of the Philosopher’s Stone formula is that some trial of process is needed to confirm what looks like solid theory…  you’re not convinced it is a sham.

The furniture in Sanbalet’s room is of excellent quality and more than enough for a high quality coffin if you take the time and make 3 rolls.

(Four rations subtracted from Seri's inventory, one for herself, and three for the captives, even the hobgoblin who cannot communicate with her.)

[Darixa]:  "Wasn't there information about contacting the [Sea] Ghost we came across?"

At the prompting of Darixa (and possibly others), Seri does recall how the scout had spoken of signaling the Sea Ghost from the window (the light that the snakes had seen), and the instructions he must have been using for communications among Brynn's findings.

Then by the Wave Father we have hope of luring the slaving vessel into a trap and take it unawares.  My only fear is that those in the caverns below this house who fled before we could capture or slay them may give away our advantage... (Seri thinks but does not yet say).

[Human Captives] "“Punketah is was Sanbalet’s ah close um wizard mate.  Not sure what their relationship was don’t care, but no the Captain is none other then ‘Snake Eyes’ hisself Sigurd, and he’s worse then Sanbalet by far, but maybe you can, maybe.  If he captures you, you should kill yerself cause it’ll be better that way.  The first mate is ah,  callen hisself Bloody Bjorn name fits.  Oh and Foul Firth that’s the bosun he’s very unconventional at keepin the ship in shape. There’s other crew but they tend to turn over and it’s hard to keep track of em.”

Seri's expression goes flat at the mention of 'Snake Eyes' Sigurd, captain of the Sea Ghost.   He had been a high-value target sought but never found by the Dragonfly while she was Navigator.  She had not known the name of the smuggler's vessel, nor for certain that he was a slaver, though it had been rumored.  This distinction between smuggling and slaving makes Seri's determination to bring this man down personal rather than merely professional.

Could this have been the threat her sea elven mother had so cryptically warned of?  The waves themselves have teeth.  Snakes have fangs and surely "Snake Eyes" Sigurd captains the Sea Ghost across the waves, but it does not quite seem to fit...

Murmuring for the Wave Father's Guidance, she looks over her shoulder, glad for Cook's looming presence and solidity.  She keeps her voice serious and earnest, yet conversational with the captives over their shared rations.  Hoping to be the spark that sways these men from continuing to be slavers.

"Captain "Snake Eyes" Sigurd, Bloody Bjorn, Foul Firth, Punkateh and Sanbalet the scheming wizards.  Not exactly princes among men, I gather.  Far be it from me to fault your choice in leaders, but you can do better, and I think you know it.  As for them, my guess is that they would let you rot and die without a second thought, discarding you as easily as they might scrape the mud from their boots before stepping  aboard from the gangplank.  By Procan's grace, I hope you consider this a new lease on life.  A chance to do better.  To NOT take away the freedom of innocents and trade in their flesh."

Seri's Persuasion with Cook's help plus Guidance to convince the captives to give up their prior loyalties and slaving ways:  20 + 4 = 24
(Had to use her Heroic Inspiration as well for a third d20 roll after rolling the first two, which were both 2 on the die.)

When Cook comments that these folks wouldn't be smuggling if the alchemy book works, Darixa quickly replies. "Cook, the smugglers never got into that room. It wasn't them that figured it out. Probably was that Makaster that did that." 

She takes an interest in the questioning that Seri is doing, so she steps over near her and listens in. At the mention of Captain 'Snake Eyes', she speaks up, "I've heard of him. Rather notorious."  She then adds, "We should ask where this Punketah is at? Not just who they are. We should be wary if there's another wizard running about." 

In that time, she wasn't really paying attention to what others were up to, but she does hear Cook mention getting on with it. "Yea, we should check out the rest of the place before it gets really late." 

Seri’s food and conversation obviously settle in as the archer and even the hobgoblin (he understands a little common- doesn’t speak it though) nod eat and breath.  The messenger even speaks up, “Maybe we could help.  If we are in the dingy for the next transfer Sigurd might let us onboard it could get you on his ship.”

She then adds, "We should ask where this Punketah is at? Not just who they are. We should be wary if there's another wizard running about."

Punketah is the deck wizard aboard the Sea Ghost.

Oh ho ho ho... Brynn wasn't looking for a secret compartment this time, but it proves that crime scrapping pays, when they do find one. It was even better that the trap malfunctioned. They liked their fingers, and wouldn't want to lose another set. Now what do we have here... They wiggle those fingers in anticipation as they go to reach for the treasure hidden within. Another book... Oh... Oh! Ohhhh.... The realization comes in stages as they gently thumb through the gold pages, all while surrounded by their piles of scrap in the corner. This was a discovery the shipwright did not want Sanbalet's left over henchmen to see, especially after their review of the other book. Although they agreed with Esme, and would trial the process for themselves to confirm the theory, they wouldn't speak any of it out loud at this time. They'd wrap the newly discovered book up in cloth and keep it close to their person, alongside the other Philosopher book. 
(Sleight of Hand: 12 + 2 guidance to hide the discovery from Sanbalet's crewmen being questioned. They are not hiding it from the team, and intend to bring it up to the others later in private.)

Back to the task at hand! At least for Brynn. After an efficient tear down, they were confident they were supplied with all the materials they should need to complete fabrication. They start with a rough sketch, a blue print, a pattern, for their build. Like many crafters, they fall into the rhythm of the work. They were in the zone. For the most part. Some sections of the wood was rough, taking a lot of elbow grease to sand, but not before suffering at least one splinter. What mattered was that they built a sturdy frame, and cushion-y inside, for safe transport. Content with their progress, they eventually move on to sew and stuff fabric for the inside.
(3 rolls requested for the build of the casket: Assumed Strength for Carpentry for all 3 rolls, however wondered if perhaps could do a Weaving or Planning roll, which could be int.)
(Rolls for DMs consideration, which were completed in Campaign Game Log:)
(Carpentry Strength Roll 1: 21(nat 20) + Guidance: 4 + Proficiency: 2 = 27)
(Carpentry Strength Roll 2: 9 + Guidance: 2 + Proficiency: 2 = 13)
(Carpentry Strength Roll 3: 4 + Guidance: 2 + Proficiency: 2 = 6)
(Planning/Weaving Intelligence Roll: 25 (nat 20) + Guidance: 1 + Proficiency (weaving): 2 = 28)

Brynn is so focused on the project she completely tunes out any other thoughts or distractions…

The finished project is a work of wonder.

Only the best of the material at hand, with some added work shop rigging (improvising for some work) the coffin is befitting a knight.  Complete with some creative flourishes to emulate the fireflies displayed in Ainura Begali’s arms and armor.

Witnessing the incredible workmanship is an inspiring moment for everyone and as the work comes to an end, a sort of reverence settles over everyone.

Brynn

     Cook snorts at Darixa’s suggestion that the smugglers might not have been in on the Philosopher’s Stone business… and that it might still work.

     “Aye, maybe,” he allows with a shrug that says he doesn’t believe a word of it.

     To Cook, they’re all cut from the same rotten cloth. No sense splitting hairs over which one’s a shade less foul than the next. 

     Besides… even if it did work, if you could turn anything into gold… what then? Gold stops being gold. Becomes sand. Something else takes its place as the thing of value. Something else Cook likely doesn’t have enough of. Boom -  he’s right back where he started. Poor as ever.

     Cook doesn’t think it through that cleanly, not in thought out thoughts and all… but the feeling’s there, solid as a stone in his gut. So he just shrugs again, dismissing the whole matter.

     Makes no difference to him.

     The names start flying during the interrogation. Cook’s heard a few of them. More than a few, truth be told but always as stories. Dockside tales. Flavor for a yarn.

     Foul Firth especially. That one’s been making the rounds lately as star of a particularly filthy set of limericks passed between sailors and dockworkers with too much time and not enough sense. The idea that the man might actually be real…

     Well...

     "There once was a ship hand, Foul Firth," Cook says, mostly unawares he's actually speaking aloud.

     "Who boasted his errr..." Cook suddenly sees Darixa... And Brynn... and Esme... And Seri... "manhood... could circle the earth,"

     "With a tug and a pull," he continues with an obvious reluctance.

     "Said soon he'd be full,"

     There's a pause where the finishing line should be as Cook reassesses his audience.  Oh he's sure the captives would appreciate it but the girls?  "…Ah feck it,” Cook says and waves a dismissive hand, “No need for you all to be hearing something like that...”  He clears his throat, trying to recover. “Point is—fella’s got a reputation.”

     "Anyway... Yeah... So."

     “First things first,” Cook turns talk back to the Sea Ghost. “When’s she due in next?”

     “—But before that!” he adds immediately, contradicting himself without missing a step.

     He leans forward slightly, eyes narrowing.

     “Are there any more of you about? In the caves yonder? Or the house above?”

     His voice drops, low and certain.

     “And the truth now… or you’ll be the first to die, no matter how the rest of this plays out.”

     Cook’s thinking ahead already.

     Clear the place. Every last corner. Smugglers, slavers, lackeys… whatever’s left…  drag them out, tie them up or put them down. No loose ends. If needed, he’s more than ready to grab the smallest, squirreliest of the lot by the scruff and make them lead the way. Better they trip whatever traps lie ahead than any of his.

     But whether they’re told there are more or not, Cook’s already turning toward the next step, readying to gather the group, push them onward…

     But then he sees Brynn.

     He pauses.

     He fully intends to interrupt. Sensible thing to do. Whatever she’s working on can wait an hour until the place is secured. Then he actually looks. And stops.

     A casket.

     The lines of it. The care. The precision. The quiet artistry in every joint and fitting. Cook exhales slowly. Truth be told, the girl always has a way of catching him off guard.

     Her work, he means. Of course. Always the work.

     Pure, technical poetry. Steel and wood shaped just so. It leaves him standing there mesmerized.

     A bit agog.

     Quiet.

     She’s finished and blowing away the last of the sawdust before Cook is able to gather himself, clear his throat and awkwardly turn away to make sure the prisoners aren’t up to anything…

_____

Bookkeeping…

• Cook would hand over the fancy Hat and Robe and Pouch and Agate on braided necklace to Brynn to add to the party’s… “finds.”  Cook doesn’t think of them as looting so much as confiscating.
• Cook, so far, has only pocketed the lead coin.  And if Brynn asks for that from Cook he will sheepishly hand it over.  
• Of course Cook will carry more if needed.  I don’t know how fast and loose we’re playing with encumbrance or such but a quick scan of party inventory show’s Brynn with like 6 swords or various kinds, 4 longbows, 4 quivers and so on…

Practicality…
Is this another short rest?  I certainly don’t intend to be asking for a short rest after every battle (though now at level 2 I do have things that replenish with such) but if we’re all just waiting around while Brynn makes a customized coffin...  Mind you I am not complaining that she is doing such, nor suggesting others haven’t been doing other things…. Just saying I assume making a custom casket would take a few hours?

Yes it does take a few hours that fly by as the spectacle of Brynn’s craft takes shape.  You certainly may short rest again.

The captives well the two that can communicate believe four are unaccounted for, most likely they’d have taken the best of the goods and rowed off toward Seaton most likely…

The archer can’t even look Cook in the eyes and shakes like a leaf in the wind, as Cook leans in with his intimidation…

Quote from HunterOrien >>

Seri’s food and conversation obviously settle in as the archer and even the hobgoblin (he understands a little common- doesn’t speak it though) nod eat and breath.  The messenger even speaks up, “Maybe we could help.  If we are in the dingy for the next transfer Sigurd might let us onboard it could get you on his ship.”

She then adds, "We should ask where this Punketah is at? Not just who they are. We should be wary if there's another wizard running about."

Punketah is the deck wizard aboard the Sea Ghost.

Seri nods thoughtfully towards the messenger "I think you shall all help us, one way or another.  It is part of your redemption.  Cleanse the Azure Sea of ships carrying slaves in shackles.  We shall plan for when the Sea Ghost is next due to be near." (per Cook's question).

And speaking of Cook, Seri almost cracks a half smile at the big man's dirty limerick.  The faith of Procan is hardly prudish, and while priests and acolytes were expected to maintain some level of decorum in public, the wild oceanic god seemed unconcerned with the chastity of His devotees.  She herself had experienced her first romantic encounter with a fellow crewmate of the Dragonfly, somewhat of a 'friends with benefits' situation.  Which suited her just fine.  Seri remembers the young lad with the nice brown eyes with an inward smile, realizing she had not thought of him in some time.

There once was a ship hand, Foul Firth," Cook says, mostly unawares he's actually speaking aloud.

     "Who boasted his errr..." Cook suddenly sees Darixa... And Brynn... and Esme... And Seri... "manhood... could circle the earth,"

     "With a tug and a pull," he continues with an obvious reluctance.

     "Said soon he'd be full,"

"His length matched only by girth?"  Seri finishes for Cook, inquiringly, face deadpan but her bright aquamarine eyes suggesting a grin.

Yet those eyes return to match the usual solemnity of her expression as she witnesses what Brynn is building, giving the shipwright space to work.

"What she said." The young Rhennee beauty says with an amused smile from her relaxed position on the bed as Darixa explains things to the cook. "It just might be the real thing, as I'm sure Brynn can confirm." She adds, then returning to her reading during the interrogation and carpentry.

As the casket is finished she gets up and admires it, her hand gently stroking the smooth lid. "One of many talents indeed." She says, giving Brynn an appreciative smile.

Darixa laughs at Cooks attempt at circumventing some of the language of his rhyme. "You think we haven't met ship hands talking about their length before?" She then grins at Seri's remark. "Usually they want to show and tell." She shakes her head. "And usually the show is... a little disappointing."

She'd been vaguely aware of the work Brynn was doing. And had noticed how he kept an eye on the other room. She didn't like to think too hard about what was in that other room. But as the work went on, she eventually caught a glimpse at what was happening.  

She ends up watching workshops as the coffin takes its final shape. When done, Darixa steps over, fingers tracing one of the fireflies worked into the design. She doesn't have the wordwords to express what it means to her.  For Ainura. She simply moves over to Brynn and wraps them in her arms, giving them a hug.  

And then she steps back. She seems on the verge of tears, but perhaps she is part tears at this point.  She moves towards the others, the moment finished but still not ready to be the one that breaks the silence.  

Esme had raised an eyebrow as the cook half-told his naughty limerick, then another one as Seri finished it for him, and had she had a third one that too would be raised as it became apparent the Darixa wasn't as innocent girl as she had thought.

As D moves to thank Brynn, the young Rhenee beauty withdraws from the casket, leaving for the two of them to appreciate the work and the thorough thoughtfulness of it all. She realized it was probably getting late. but there was no urgency with finishing their mission now as far as she could see, and moments such as this one should be stayed in.

     Cook flushes red as Seri finishes the limerick for him… flustered, caught out, and for once at a loss for words.

     Then Darixa laughs. The color deepens.

     Cook shakes his head, absently waves off the comments and laughs, but the pauses when he hears what Darixa adds about a woman’s life aboard ship. The warmth in his face curdles into something harder, angrier.

     “Not on any ship I sail on,” Cook growls, the edge back in his voice. “First one overboard doesn’t teach lesson in manners to the rest, the second one learns it to ’em.”

     Not that he’s been invited to sail on many ships lately. But that’s neither here nor there.

.....

     May the devil take the women, Cook thinks when Esme brings up the Philosopher’s Stone again.

     Cook is wise enough, just, not to say that aloud in present company.

     If they want to believe they can turn things into gold, well… he’ll believe it when he starts crapping nuggets. He snorts softly to himself at that. And if there’s any hypocrisy in how Cook thinks men ought to behave around women compared to the thoughts rattling around his own skull?

     Well… Cook doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

Hearing Cook's growling response, Darixa is quick to interject. "Now, now. I'm not suggesting anything untoward happened. I mean, they only offer to show. They only do show when I ask them to."  She gives him a wink, not knowing whether that's really helped or not. 

But that was before she had encountered Brynn's handiwork with the coffin. For the moment she is still rather silent. 

When she has a moment, Seri gently touches Brynn's arm a tentative smile, innocuous given her usual solemn aquamarine gaze.  Voice quiet.

"I comprehend not how you create and craft what you do so well, Salt-Blessed One, yet I believe the Wave Father smiles on what you have done today.  Truly, for all His wild fury, He chooses his scions wisely.  With honor shall we lay Darixa's fallen sister Ainura to rest on this windswept shore."

If Brynn is willing to part with it, Seri then takes the Mariner's Scale Mail and goes to work.  Meticulously, she re-fits the marine mammal skin and sinew and tough kelp fiber from her leather armor to interlace through and around the interlocking metal of the magical armor instead.  When finished, she tries on the armor and turns to face all of her companions, and even the captives, with a tremulous expression on her face.

"What... what do you think?"  Seri's tone is almost shy, as if she is a young girl trying on a new dress she has hand-made with fine materials gifted to her.

     “Yeah, well…” Cook mutters when the touchy-feely starts getting a bit thick. He clears his throat and waves a hand like he’s brushing it all aside. “We’ve still got a place to clear, don’t we?”

     He turns sharply, eyes settling on the captives.

     “You—”

     Cook reaches down and hauls the scrawniest of them up by the front of their shirt, giving them a small, none-too-gentle shake.

     “If the others took off in a ship, how d’you call them back?” he asks, voice low and edged.

     “Say you’d won, for instance.” He leans in closer, eyes narrowing.

     “If Sanbalet had come out on top and needed them back, how’d he do it?”

     His grip tightens just a touch. “Think on it before you answer.  But don’t think too long…”

_____

Cook Intimidation:  3...  
Not even worth trying to use the Swagger Streak feature.  Best that would add is an 8 so *shrug*

The archer found some clean clothes in one of the footlockers and is in the middle of changing his soiled clothing as Cook turns to get some answers- throwing off his groove.  He hurriedly pulls on his britches and trembling gives an answer, “Their gonna pass into Seaton with the black guard and well that’s probably it.  Then ah Sigurd or one of the crew’ll pick ‘em up I’d guess.”  He hurriedly finishes dressing avoiding eye contact with Cook.  The hobgoblin looks like he’s napping.  The messenger just nods as the archer finishes his answer, “There’s more blackmail bribery and crime in Seaton then anyone would ever guess…”

 "So now you made me curious D, what would it take to not disappoint you?" The young Rhennee beauty quietly asks the tanned girl as she gets up to check out Seri's new outfit. She slowly walks around the slender blue-haired aquatic half-elf, adjusting the armour slightly, then taking a step back in front of her and giving her a bright warm smile. "You look wonderful in that Seri." She says with sincere appreciation over what she sees.

When Esme commented to her earlier, Darixa replied quietly, "Hmm, I guess I'd have to see it to know if I was not disappointed." She gives the woman a quick wink before moving on toother things. 

With Seri showing off the new armor like it's a fashion show, she adds her own comment. "The armor seems very fitting for you." She then turns to Cook. "It is probably time we get moving on to the rest of this place. Starting with these passages below, then upstairs."

The passages and caverns beyond the secret door in the south wall decline perceptibly toward the sea. The passage that runs north was well-lit by torches set in crude brackets on the walls. The first two areas heading south 
have no wall sconces and are dark. The bottom of the passage is open to the sea. The walls are slimy and the floors are moist, though the smugglers had matting in places to make them more easily passable.

All these passages and caverns are natural, though there are signs of worked stone here and there; such evidence is found on the stairs leading from the secret door and in places where narrow passages were widened.

Some areas were observed and shared by Esme/Thistle.