San comes in near the end, a light spell cast on Ghostfetter to brighten things a bit more.
"Well, if I had to guess, I would think whatever was able to control their minds could probably manage some darkness too. But that's just my thought. And we should recall this ship was the property of a wizard at one point. At least, that's what I remember hearing."
I goofed and there are two doors on the north wall. I will pick the left one for you to speed things along:
Magnus opens a room that is also gloomy, but not magically darkened. It seems to be the ship's galley. There is a small cooking area with three built-in cabinets and a few beat up pots and pans on secure hooks. A small wood stove mounted on a gimbal to keep it upright in pitched seas The sound of buzzing flies is strong here, as is the stench of rot. A few large black-and-blue flies dart past Magnus' face, seeking escape.
Iz opens the door. It swings open with a screech of rusty hinges. The buzzing sound increases as a cloud of shiny big flies erupt from within. A wave of noxious rotting meat stench hits the group.
Nestled among the pewter plates and cups within the cabinet is a severed human head. It seems to move, but closer observation reveals that the head is covered in writhing vermin. From what is left, Iz deduces that the head belonged to a fat fellow, a trace of heavy jowls still evident in the putrified flesh. A large gold hoop still adorns one tattered ear.
Kessel will take the time to tie up the crew in case they aren't crazy and this mind control/insanity is a passing thing. After he's sure there won't be any surprises from behind he'll follow the others.
"Well. That's one way to get ahead." He says drolly.
"So, I suppose that proves that whatever happened to our crewmates also happened to the original crew. The story is that the wizard liked, strange creatures as pets. I'm guessing one of them got loose. The question is,... what IS it?"
The room has no other doors in it, but does have two salt-spray-fogged windows of wavy glass that look out on the ocean. The small room is quiet save for the flies buzzing. If there is anything else alive in these cramped quarters, it is doing an excellent job of hiding
Egan and Whisperwing keep watch above decks, after hearing the retching from below, and realizing that nobody seemed to be in mortal danger.
Egan and Whisperwing keep watch on deck. Kessel finishes tying up the four unconcious crewmen. As he ties the last knot they begin to stir. They awaken fairly quickly, and are soon bellowing and trying to force their way out of the ropes.
Magnus heads to the next door. This door looks to have been forced, the knob crudely hacked off, and the door wedged back into place with a hinge askew. A few rents in the door show a line of weapon racks within, but no observable weapons
"Hm. Seems to be the armory." Magnus says softly, peering carefully through a large hole in the door.
"Or at least it was before the party started, seems to have been cleared out,... stand by." He says, stepping to the side of the door once more.
He leans sideways and kicks the door open hopefully with the heel of his tailored boot,...
Magnus kicks the door literally off it's hinges. The abused piece of wood collapses into several pieces, revealing the narrow armory. A five-by-ten room, the armory's wall is studded with weapon racks, now empty. A broken crossbow bolt lies on the floor, the only indication that there were arms here once
"Here. Allow me the honors this time. After all, you don't get all the fun." San takes a listen at the door first (perception 1d20+11), and assuming he hears nothing, opens it.
San hears nothing but some more fly buzzing, so he opens the door. Inside he finds what must have been the officer's mess. A large oak table and 4 benches dominate the center of this cramped dining cabin. The cabin is a gory mess whose only living occupants are a swarm of buzzing flies. Blood and brains splatter the walls in gory abstract.
Among the litter of wooden plates and overturned cups on the top of the table is a scattered mix of rotting food,spilled grog, copious amounts of dried blood, and a severed human hand still clutching a wooden spoon.
Vilya limps toward Kessel, a dangerous look in her eye.
"YOU. You distracted me just so you could steal my kill."
She gestures toward the fallen half-orc with her machete and utters a feral sound that only incidentally happens to be a word.
"Distracted you how?" Kessel asks, his dark piercing eyes meeting Vilya's, "Because I used my magic after you fell not before. I am not a mover of divine providence, you loosing your balance might have been bad luck, but I didn't will it to happen. I would suggest to you though, if you believe in such things, that fate would seem to want this half orc alive, perhaps you should rethink your strategy? Clearly he and the others are under some sort of mind control."
"Give it up you cant escape." Felicia points the edge of her rapier at the man.
Kraken struggles to rise again. He eyes Felicia warily, but makes no sign that he comprehends her words. A feral snarl issues from his throat and his massive muscles bunch as he tries to regain his footing
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
He rises up and slowly heads for the doors at the head of the ship