Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh

(OOC - Sorry, just really getting a chance to post now. Hope I'm not holding things up.) 

Darixa hears the words out of Sanbalet's mouth about her sister, and she suddenly knows her decision is made. While not completely unfamiliar with violence, it certainly wasn't her first inclination. She'd had time to realize that this decision was hers; this had perhaps been the last of her blood relatives. So, it didn't feel surprising to her when the moment came. She pulled the dagger from the sheath on her belt, stepped softly behind the man, and pulled the dagger across his throat as firmly as she is able. "Ainura was my sister. I hope her spirit rests more soundly to know her own family has avenged her. I'm certainly glad to know you shall never speak like that of her ever again." 

She hopes her ability will rise to the occasion. But she knows her new family here will certainly step in if needed. As the moment passes, she steps back again. In silence, she makes sure her blade is clean before returned to the sheath. Assuming there were no complications, she then turns her back to the body, stepping away as tears fill her eyes. Immediately she sets to work to use her magic to examine the items that were found, taking a look at everything. By the time the ritual is done, so are her tears. And she lets the others know what she has uncovered. 

She's most interested in the ring and suggests she take that to examine further when she has a chance.  Cook seemed to have interest in the pipe. Seri perhaps the scale mail.  "And yea, the finger. Of course," she mumbles, glancing over at Esme. It felt like the witch might be the right person to take a look at that.  She gathers up the whistle and tattoo needles as well, just out of curiosity.

     Cook pulls up short the moment he sees Darixa step forward to handle it herself.  He stays close, close enough to step in if needed, but he doesn’t interfere.  This isn’t his moment.

     When she finishes and steps back, Cook is there.  Just for a second.  A steady hand settles on her shoulder - firm, grounding. A single, reassuring squeeze.  Then he’s gone again.  No words.  Then he steps away silently to let her work through it all as she saw fit.

     Later, when Darixa finishes her ritual and begins pointing out what might be magical, Cook immediately raises both hands and waves off any suggestion about the pipe.

     “No, no… I only thought it a memento,” he says, shaking his head. “Anything that’s… well… anything… best we leave it be till we know what we’re dealing with.”

     He snorts lightly.  “Be just my luck to pocket some cursed trinket and spend the rest of my days paying for it, aye? No thank you kindly.”

     When the sound beyond the door is mentioned, Cook finally gives it his full attention.  He steps closer, eyeing the wood, the hinges, the frame - giving it the sort of appraisal he’d give a cart, a crate, or a questionable bar stool.

     “Ah now, that’s a grand door,” he mutters, giving it a testing tap. “Solid as you like.”  He nods, satisfied.

     “That’ll hold the dead all day and night, I’d wager. No need to go stirring them up before we have to.”  Cook glances back to the others.

     “We could leave the poor things be for now, clear out the rest of the place first. No sense making trouble with the dead till we’ve handled what’s not already locked up good and tight, eh?”

“That’ll hold the dead all day and night, I’d wager. No need to go stirring them up before we have to.”  Cook glances back to the others.

Six bashes against the door, followed by a couple splashes- a stink of acid makes Cooks eyes water.  Acrid smoke starts rolling through the hole in the door under the gap near the floor, “I CLAIM THE DEAD!  THE WIZARD… MINE!!”

Another round of bashes, the door sturdy as it is won’t hold long…

Seri'sInsight plus Guidance on any response from the captives to her demands:  14 + 3 = 17

  All of the information Seri gathers confirms what is written in Sanbalet’s belongings which were discovered by Brynn.  
  The Hobgoblin doesn’t understand most of Seri’s words, he primarily speaks goblin….  
  The scout/slaver is a mess he answers and quietly sobs, he is literally a mess too.  
  The messenger is mostly silent taking in everything, he answers like the scout/slaver, but is much more composed- until the undead call for Sanbalet’s corpse.

"What did Sanbalat do to make this thing to upset?" Darixa wonders. She readies herself, well back from the door, preparing for a fight. "Much as I don't mind giving that awful man to this thing, I presume we can't just let an undead continue roaming about the place, right?" 

Earlier

After their shot, Brynn didn't stand down. Although they made the conscious decision not to target a major artery, it didn't mean they disagreed with his death. They just felt it wasn't their decision to make. What mattered to them was that their crew was safe and secure. So when it was discovered that Sanbalet indeed was responsible for Darixa's sister, Ainura's death, their expression only hardened. Not to mention the disrespect... The shipwright would nod in agreement, and in appreciation, for Seri's words and suggestion for D to be the one to decide justice for her family. They'd take position to stand guard over the proceedings, not far from Cook.

In that quiet moment as Cook would place their hand on Darixa's shoulder, Brynn would finally lower their pointed prosthetic. Their own frame would rise and fall as they'd take a few breaths with her, allowing for any time needed to breathe through the wave of emotions. In, and out. Eventually they do break their silence. "We'll give her the respect she deserves." Their voice was soft and low in their promise to her.

Beat by beat, one by one, the crew dispersed about into their various tasks, and Brynn couldn't help but take a moment to observe. And shift their singed, charred, weaponized prosthetic into safety. Watching the others, it wouldn't take long for them to forget about the pain and for their lips to pull into their regular grin. Full 'shit-eating' grin at that. They couldn't help it. They were kind of 'fussed over', and it was really sweet. It'd soften up their expression and cause a bit of a tilt of their head each time. Maybe even a sway. But they wouldn't admit it.

"Aye..." The shipwright's hand would find the back of their head, giving it a scratch. "Thank you... Really." They'd then bring their hand back down in assurance. "I'm alright. Just a lil fired up." There'd be a wink and a smirk to punctuate that pun, but also that softness to follow. Brynn honestly appreciated the offer of help. "How 'bout..." But they still may have some trouble ahead, and there may be the opportunity to take a bit of a breather to patch them up the old fashion way. "We save them healing gifts fer now?" That dimple starts to poke into their cheek. "I could use a hand patching up." They admit, but not before adding. "And would absolutely accept cuddles if I'm being sent to rest."

Brynn couldn't settle without at least supervising the attempts to secure the danger door. They'd eventually want to participate in the effort and would step in to reinforce what they started. With a bit of a casual whistle, they'd grab one of the longswords from the pile of recovered items. They'd jam it across the door like a classic barricade. It'd be enough to buy them at least a little extra time when things come knocking. Then, they'd dip into the office to drag out the comfy chair. They had no intention of laying in a slavers bed if they could help it.

(Sleight of hand: 16 | SR Heal: 11hp | Perception: 18)

Short Rest/Inventorying

Finally allowing themselves to take a seat, Brynn would assist with inventorying the items after they patched up. There were your usual lackey items, but also some really interesting ones which were set aside for further identification. They'd watch as particular items caught each individuals eyes. The shipwright took interest in learning what the others desired, and how they could potentially enhance any of their choices in the future. Of course they weren't immune to having interest in some of the items, but what mattered more is if their crew could benefit first.

The scale mail was an example of one such items. When Seri would look it over, Brynn would nod and gesture with their chin for her take possession of it should it be an improvement to her armour. She was brave. Fierce. Seri took point at the chokehold with Cook, and that was plenty enough of a reason for them to believe the upgrade would be in the best hands. Assuming it isn't cursed that is... "You come to me fer repairs." They smile, the promise assuring she'll keep coming around.

Speaking of repairs, Brynn gestured for Esme to come over. They'd peel free some thread recycled from their burnt, torn off sleeve and use it in mending parts of her dress. Small tears were sewn while larger ones embroidered to fill the gaps. They worked away while items continued to be identified.

Brynn wondered about the whistle, more so about the tattoo needles, but D's interest also caught their attention. Their brow would raise in curiosity. "You do ink D?" Their eyes would watch as she'd make her way through each item to detect presence of magic. There was something about how different schools could be identified and what made the items different from others, wondering if they could ever replicate the features. "Know what they do?" They had to ask. A part of them was surprised when the pipe they'd been eyeballing would be picked out. Brynn would nudge it a bit further away from the finger. They had planned to disinfect it, but wondered if it'd need to be bathed in holy water.

Now

They had heard the banging. Sniff sniff. But now they smelled something.

“I CLAIM THE DEAD!  THE WIZARD… MINE!!”

Brynn places theirs hands on their knees and brings themselves to their feet. "Aye... That's our queue." They reach behind them to pull free a familiar vial from their tool belt. It's weaved between their fingers as they step forward, then cork popped with their teeth and spat out. Grabbing the edge of their coat, they hold it up over their nose to shield from the gas while they push the vial of grease into the hole, emptying its contents onto the floor on the other side. They step back as far as they can before the door bursts open.

(Casting Grease on the other side of the doorway for the baddies to start their turns in | Movement: 30ft)

Brynn’s grease covers the floor into the room more smoke rising from the mix of acid and grease…

A loud scrabbling sound and crashing to the ground,  more acid hits the door which falls into large chunks of debris a skeleton comes crawling out over the mess & gets up, as light pours into the Danger room beyond.

At first glance it looks like what you’d expect but when the light hits the skeletons a weird reflection catches your eyes at least a couple ribs are gold in all of the walking dead.

Esme-Seri-Darixa your turns.

     Cook sputters a bit when Brynn jokes about accepting cuddles if she’s sent off to rest.

     “Oh—heh—aye, well…” he manages after a moment, a bit of a forced laugh slipping out.  He doesn’t press it.  Lets the others fuss over her as they will, assuming that’s what she meant.  Too busy trying to hide the blush that came to his cheeks to allow himself to think anything else.  

     While Darixa works her ritual, eyes tracing the gathered items for signs of magic, something else might catch her attention.  Cook’s right arm.  There, mostly hidden beneath his rolled sleeve, a tattoo curls along his skin. The design itself is hard to make out from a glance, but during the ritual, it gives off the faintest glow of conjuration magic. Subtle but unmistakable if Darixa happens to look up from what she is doing.  (totally up to Culuril if they notice or not.)

     When Brynn decides the door needs reinforcing, Cook blinks in mild surprise.  It had looked solid enough to him - good wood, sturdy build - but this wasn’t his trade. And he’d long since learned that when Brynn judged a thing needing fixing, it needed fixing.  So he nods once and leaves her to it.

     At the sound of the voice beyond the door, Cook rolls his sleeves up a wee bit further and steps into position.  He shifts back just enough to give Brynn room to work, careful not to step in the grease she spreads - but just as careful, once she’s done, to place himself squarely between the door and the rest of them.

     “And if we give you the wizard?” Cook calls back through the door.  He doesn’t raise his voice much, just enough to carry.

     Do the dead bargain?  He’s not sure.  Doesn’t much care, either.  What happens to the slaver’s corpse means little to him but whatever’s on the other side of that door?  That, he doesn’t trust one bit.

Seri lopes to the door to support Cook, small driftwood shield up and coral hilted trident in hand.  Hoping once more to wall off the enemy at the choke point so that her other companions can fire away at range.

"I do not rightly know, Cook, but I suspect if we hand over the dead to these skeletons, we shall soon be facing more of them. Perhaps skeleton wizards."

She jabs at a skeleton with her aquamarine-infused trident, ideally at one that is prone in Brynn's grease, then holds her shield in a defensive posture.

Movement:  5' S - 5' SE - 15' E (finishing just NE of Cook) to block the skeletons off along with Cook.  (5' further south if needed to access prone target.)

Action:  Seri targets (ideally a prone) skeleton with True Strike using her coral-hafted trident.
True Strike with coral trident to hit:  18 (or 7, Nat. 1 if no prone targets accessible)
True Strike with coral trident damage:  9 radiant

Bonus Action:  None

Free Action:  Stow her trident to leave a hand free.

Seri has the Shield spell available as a reaction and may use it.  Also, if attacked, she uses a Luck point to impose disadvantage on the attack.

The tines of Seri’s radiant trident do indeed catch a prone skeleton trying to crawl out of the grease…

Her strike breaks free a section of golden rib.

Esme-Darixa your turn

Earlier, when Brynn mentioned cuddles, Darixa had been ready to use her healing magic. Instead, she gives them a brief hug before focusing on the ritual casting to identify the magic in the items. Whether she notices anything with Cook she does not say. Afterward though, she did come and sit right next to Brynn, putting an arm around them as she too relaxed for the moment. It was hard to tell if it was for their benefit or for her own.  The only words are to respond to their brief question. "I don't. Do you? Maybe I should." 

With the door starting to break she had kept back. And she still keeps back, quickly singing out a few notes and launching a mote of light at the nearest skeleton. 
(Starry Wisp, Spell Attack: 17, Damage: 2 radiant) 

The young Rhennee beauty simply nods and observes as Darixa slits the throat of her sister's murderer. She would have done the same if it was her family, but she was still somewhat suprised to see the tanned girl so calm about it. Family was important to her kind, and yet she had left them behind to seek her own path, perhaps she was never truly fully one of them.

As the others went through what they had found, Esmeralda lies down on one of the beds to rest and compose herself for what would come. She was still quite upset, over her dress of course, but moreso over Thistle and Primrose not being there with her. She missed her friends and hoped she would soon be able to call them back to her. She smiles as D takes good care of Brynn, she hoped they would spend time together at her place once it was open. As Brynn calls her over she would slowly walk over to them and take a seat beside them, giving them a small smile. "Expecting more cuddles are you?" She says with a hint of a tease. She then watches wide-eyed as her scorched dress is made as new before her eyes. As Brynn is finished, Esme gives them a bright sincere smile and leans in to give them a kiss on their cheek. "You are one of many hidden assets, I wonder how you will surprise me next?" She says softly, her hand briefly along the prosthetic as if trying to determine if it held any secrets for her.

As the voice calls out from beyond the danger door, Esme is quick on her feet, standing back beside Darixa, summoning green witch fire in her hand that she hurls at the emerging skeleton.

Eldritch Blast: 24 Force: 6

Darixa’s radiant wisp hits the skeleton through the door, just as Esme’s fire engulfs it in weird flaring flames.

Two skeletons manage to stand long enough to fire their necrotically preserved short bows.  Two black arrows fly past Cook.  The skeletons fall back to the floor.

Cook’s turn

A hunched corpse wearing a pointed hat and dressed in a robe embroidered with mystic symbols stands ready. Thin wisps of beard float from its bony jaw. It raises a finger, tracing arcane symbols in the air. In a hoarse voice, it speaks: “Secrets found and lost then found again. Your paltry minds cannot fathom …”

     “That… that is a lot of boners,” Cook mutters as he finally gets a proper look into the room.

     One… two… three… four… He squints, trying to keep count, then gives up with a grunt. Numbers were never his strong suit. His cooking ran more on pinches and handfuls than anything you’d measure proper.

     “A real skeleton party,” he adds, lips quirking slightly as he pushes his sleeves up a little further without thinking.  He rolls his shoulders once, settling himself.

     “So…” A small breath in. A shift in stance. “Let’s party.”

     Something in him answers that. A surge, hot and cold all at once, filling his limbs with a sudden, eager strength. Vim. Vigor. Something sharper beneath it.  One last stretch of his neck and he is Brace’d Up for what is about to come…

      Cook steps forward. No hesitation. His fist comes around hard and fast, driving straight for the nearest skeleton’s skull, aiming to smash it clean apart in a single, brutal strike.

_____

Bonus Action - Brace Up
Action - Attack Skelly 5 with an Unarmed Strike - 18 to hit for 11 bludgeoning damage.
Movement - Cook will move up into Skelly 5’s location if that skeleton falls but otherwise no movement.

And Skeleton 5 is scattered as it’s boney frame is knuckle busted.

Skeleton 3 crawls out of the grease stands and fires an arrow at Cook.

16 to hit for 5 piercing damage.

Brynn’s turn

"You can handle 'em all right?" Brynn grins, calling back over to Cook after overhearing his mutterings. 

After a quick moment of familiar calibrations, the shipwirght takes aim with their prosthetic. "I've got a bone to pick with you..." Looking down their sight, they aim to pick off one of the skeletons through the doorway. They'd prioritize any that may be near collapsing.

(Attack: 21 Damage: 8)

Brynn’s bolt warbles through the air just passing between Seri & Cook over the greasy pile of clacking bones, slamming into the sternum of skeleton 2 standing in the back…

 Makaster, “Deals been made the body is mine!” He holds a pulsing green black viscera in each hand prepared to fling… He seems to be looking right through Cook at Sanbalet’s blood drenched form.

Insight 8 Cook

 Skeleton 1 crawls (disengages) out of grease and stands.  Skeleton 2 draws back a blackened short bow a gnarly arrow held ready aimed at Cook.

Esme-Seri-Darixa your turn

Moving slightly to get a clear shot, the young Rhennee beauty hurls more green witch fire towards the skeleton facing the cook.

Eldritch Blast: 21 Force: 15

Skeleton bones shatter as Esme’s witch fire ignites the very ground beneath them!

Skeleton 6 goes to shards.

Darixa-Seri your turn