Grommen absolutely refuses to take back the helmets.  He will buy or sell anything else you like, but he won't touch them.  For you, of course, I couldn't take them back.  Please, good sir, do not... do not speak of returning them.

Ok. Can I at least ask if they’re reusable? They worked perfectly for an hour.

They are, yes.  There’s a little magic in them.  The air comes back at dawn.  

You’ve been through considerable trouble on my account, sir. Your work is impeccable. I thank you.

Outside of the shop, Pockets pulls Silent aside.  Silent, I want you to take some of this money and use it for whatever you and the others need. I’m not sure what your next move should be, but you’ll need some money.

Pockets gives him thirty gold pieces.

Silent would have accompanied Pockets to the shop to thank Grommen as well. His jaw drops when Pockets hands over the money. 

You sure about this, mate? If we screw up this whole town might go under... you and your folks might need the coin, right? 

The way I see it, my parents are in danger no matter what I do. There are a few ways this can play out, but the best thing I can do for them is be with them. I’m splitting the difference by hoping you and the others can pull something off with this coin, while shoring up my family’s defenses on my own.  

Follow my advice on this, find some firepower and a patron if you can. Remember that noble who likes artifacts? We thought Three Earrings was working for him. Maybe there’s someone else willing to fund an “expedition”. Take the four diving helmets, get a boat and take the fight back to her.

Or don’t, run inland and don’t look back. That part is up to you I’m afraid. I wouldn’t judge you either way.

(I would assume that you've all stayed together and are now in a group outside the blacksmith's shop near the docks.)

If I were you, I would definitely run inland and not look back, Dajarkal adds helpfully.  In fact, that's exactly what I plan to do.  Right after I make my report and get paid.  Three Earrings has a vindictive streak but I doubt you're her top priority at the moment; she has to sort this out with the people who sent her.

(OOC:  To be clear, this is not me the DM trying to push you into a particular course of action, this is just what Dajarkal would say at this point.  You have quite a lot of different options open to you.)

Make your report?

Yes, Dajarkal replies.  Look, I'm not exactly Zhelezo, but I am in good standing with them and they hire me from time to time for specific jobs.  Like infiltrating Revelry ships, for example.  For what it's worth, I will corroborate your story about the sahuagin and Palma Flora when I give them my report.  I don't expect anyone will take it seriously until that sahuagin chief is a more obvious threat, though. That's the way of politics - people don't see the trouble coming until it's staring them right in the face.

Silent is scowling deeply and appears to be thinking hard (and not enjoying the experience). 

I don't love the idea of running into a half-arsed rematch - it's  not like we found any of the chief's secret weaknesses and she's probably built her army back up.  

I don't want to abandon this town's people and I got a bad feeling running away will bite me in the arse again. But I vote we do it anyway - if the message is getting out, I've got a hard time feeling guilty about saving my own skin. And hell, I can't say I blame the chief for trying to carve out a home. That's something everyone needs. 

I guess you have to figure out which option you can live with.  Sooner or later you're going to have to decide which is the least despicable option, because I don't think you're going to find an entirely good one in there anywhere.  Arael?  What are your thoughts?

(OOC: Are we down another player?)

I agree with getting out of town, Arael says quietly, her mind seemingly on something else.  I'm not sure... but I guess it's the best choice we have.

Silent looks to Pockets. You going to your parents now, then? We can all head there and then hole up in an inn for the night. 

Let’s go to the inn. It’s getting late.

So you head to the inn, all four of you,  Arael leads the way and you are soon in the Light's Marvel, just as sun sets.  It costs 5 silver for a room, 3 silver for a meal.  You can take a meal or head right up to bed if you prefer.

The night passes.  It's peaceful, but less so than Claybeach; for all of you, even Pockets, Port Damali feels like a place of danger.  Three Earrings may presume you dead, or maybe she doesn't.  Maybe she's hunting you, or has hired people to do so.   Maybe you have enmity with her, or maybe you've made an enemy of the whole Revelry.

And then there's the pompous arrogant half-elf  Lieutenant Commander Voskiir Larth, servant of the Clovis Concord.  You took up arms, killed his men, embarrassed him and allowed him to escape to tell his tale.  Perhaps you are wanted in the city, and every Zhelezo has your descriptions.  Perhaps Dajarkal's account will be enough to protect you, but perhaps not.  She was open about being a hireling at best - how much can her word count against a man who commanded a ship.

Then there's the business that took you to Palma Flora in the first place.  Perhaps your employer paid for your trip.  Perhaps you were entrusted with something to deliver.  In each of your cases, you have nothing to show for it, and likely an angry patron who will want a debt repaid.  That could be trouble, and get the Zhelezo involved if you're not careful.

And finally, the sahuagin warlock with the powerful artifact that can sink villages.  You swore to carry her words to the Clovis Concord, and Dajarkal has agreed to do this.  But you also swore to kill a man for her, and you broke that promise.  You survived the coastal trip from Claybeach to Port Damali, but who can say whether you would survive your next voyage over the deep ocean, with a foe who wields such powerful magics, and who knows what power her master, Uk'otoa, can command?

The last days and weeks have been exhausting, grueling, testing.  You have succeeded and you have failed, but you have learned much.  You waken determined, if nothing else, to make a decision on your path.  You have all completed a long rest, and have reached level three.

You gather in the morning: Pockets, Silent, Keyo and Arael, seated around a table for what you think may be the last time.  You've pretty much agreed to take Pockets home as your first act, but not decided what you'll do, or where you'll head, after that.

Arael opens the conversation.  I think we should split up.  If we stay off the sea, the danger from the sahuagin and the Revelry is less.  The Clovis Concord and Voskiir are the biggest danger, and Voskiir saw us as a group.  It will be easier to hide if we go our separate ways.  She looks around, waiting for your responses.

That is a good idea. I'm already separating from the party. In fact, to safeguard my family, I'll go to my parents' shop alone. The less we know about each other's travels ftom this point forward, the better. 

Just one point of order - before going to sleep the night before, Silent would have attempted to find a secluded location in his room (ideally renting a single room for himself) and taken out his greatsword. 

He would have begun speaking in an weak voice with his eyes closed while hugging the blade to his chest, almost like a child with a toy.   
Master Ildrin - I've been making a huge arse of myself. Still stuck choosing between killing for causes I don't believe in, and running away from being a better man. I'm not smart enough for this, dammit. I still can't see the potentials and the branching paths and all that hokey crap you taught me. But... I think I'm finally starting to understand how my choices change me. So if you can hear me, Master... lend me your wisdom again, I'm ready this time. Help me see.  
After meditating on his master's teachings for an hour or two he would've gone to sleep. 

The next morning - I'll be sorry to see you lot go but I agree, Arael. It's for the best. He grins around the table. But we put our lives on the line together out there. The way I was raised, that makes us brothers and sisters in arms. And soldiers look out for each other - distance be damned.  

Silent, you have carried that sword for a long time now, so much that it almost feels like a trusted friend.  But no magic flows through it, that you can see.  All those who follow the path you did at a young age learn to live with this same frustration - so many months or years of training to use a power that you do not have, to feel an energy that is hidden and beyond your grasp, waiting, waiting for the spark to appear.  As it always does, in the end, when the time is right, when the mind and spirit are ready to receive it.  You have learned acceptance, and patience, for that is the way of things.

Tonight, as you speak truth about yourself, you feel that spark, and for the first time, the sword resonates in response.  For a moment.  And then it is gone.  But not gone far, and you know the importance of what has just happened.