Outside the room
Healaugh pauses.
"This right one lass?" he asks in the closest thing to a whisper he can manage, before pressing his ear to the door for a routine and fruitless listen.
The excitable halfling hears nothing.
Indeed the half elf knows that it is not that room,but one at the end of the corridor on the right.
Brand stoically watches for any signs of fhoi myore activities
"Oh, now we're not going to have to go further along towards the nasties are we?"
Feeling that his life hasn't got much longer to go, he reluctantly follows on after the seeking pair.
Healaugh steers Siobhan firmly towards the door she feels the stick tugging her towards.
As Brand watches out for trouble his curiosity is piqued by the way the wand is leading Siobhan around, having never witnessed much in the way of magic before. It momentarily draws his attention away from the task he'd resigned to.
Just like the ol' tales of elves and wizards my gran used ta spin on a cold winters night....now I'm living it
Healaugh notices that Brand's usually stern expression has mellowed.
"Grand int' it?" he whispers.
"Bunch o' nobodies like us fetching up with Brigid-lass and magic sticks. Happen those pirate-scum did us favour after all. I'd not have missed this."
He thinks for a second, then adds more practically,
"Could still do with finding boat though. M'not planning on drowning this evening. Reckon oor Brigid-lass has other plans."
For just a moment Brand's chest swells up and the ghost of a smile crosses his face and he mumbles "yes.." then at the mention of the boat he snaps back to his normal dour self and looks quickly around as if he thought all the Fhoi Myore were sneaking up at once.
Let my guard down!!
Tresmeer bumbles along behind the half elf, "What be that then, eh?" eh asks, "Is loike divoinin' be it?"
DM
Siobhán continues up the corridor, almost to the exit to the outside world and stops outside the right hand door, "It's in here." she whispers.
"Jolly good!" adds Melisana.
Feeling as if he ought to look eager to carry down this passage, Ynyr goes to the door and listens for any nasties.
Listening at the door... 1d20=18
"Now then, what is it I can hear, do you think?" He whispers.
He thinks he can hear nothing but the wind and the grumbling and cursing of yrch pirates at the door to the outside.
"Reet lass. Open door and let's find what needs finding, then be off. Reckon our Ynyr's int' right of it. Best not be staying near yrch scum."
The relief that Ynyr feels upon hearing Haelaugh's last words cannot be imagined.
Brand readies his axe anyway, staring in the direction of the Fhoi Myore noise with a particularly baleful grimace
"Well, 'in for a copper piece, in for a gold piece' as they say you know?". With that Ynyr opens the door and peers inside.
Ynyr finds a bedroom with a well-polished floor (marred by axe marks), as well as broken chairs, and a bed made dusty by the years and broken by recent events. Papers are strewn everywhere, but Siobhan gets a feeling from one of them in particular and the stick leads her right to it. "Oh, what is it?" asks Melisana.
Siobhán keeps hold of the stick, clutching it to her chest "As I have this and the gift from the goddess it doesn't seem fair that I should be claiming anything else. Perhaps one of you should pick this up."
"M'not much of a halfling for reading, but reckon Brigid-lass is guiding us. Would be churlish to refuse."
Healaugh picks up the paper.
"Yes, I am thinking that no-one should be taking more than one treasure, you know? Isn't that what is wanted, don't you see? I've the dagger, I'll not touch another unless I have to. Now isn't that best?"
Then, looking towards Siobhán.
"Not that I don't think that you should find something to defend yourself with as well, shouldn't you? How much use will the divining stick be after we find what we find?"
Healaugh
Gazing at the scroll, Healaugh realises he is not the right person to keep this.
"Now then Siobhan-lass. Our Ynyr's int' right of it. Tha'll be needing defences."
His normal ebullience well in check, he shrugs and goes on.
"Thing is lass, us might not all be round to help tha'. So tha'll need to protect self. And reckon you're only one on't us can properly use this. Don't know how I knows, I just does."
So saying, he hands the scroll to the half-elf with an air of relief.
"And now we'd best be moving on. Can't be doing with Yrch-scum this close. Might get impulsive again and that'd never do."
Siobhan/DM
"And isn't that just what I was thinking?" says Ynyr as he tries to hustle everybody out of the room and back to the relative safety of the part of the house that they came from.
Siobhán looks uncertainly at the piece of paper "I have my pendant as well, this just feels greedy" She confides uncertainly "I just want to get all of you home, I don't need any treasure" She tells the group quietly as she starts to follow where the wand leads her once more.
"Now than lass, we're all wanting to get home." says Healaugh reprovingly.
"Seemingly we'll only do that using gifts as best we may. So stow tha gab and take scroll. Tha's only one among us can use it and tis best in tha hands. T'aint about what tha' wants, it's about what group needs."
Tracking treasure around the yrch and pucha infested manor has given the halfling time to think.
"Roight, best be gettin' a move on, int we, loike?" says Tresmeer, as he ambles back the way he came.
"I suppose he's right," Melisana adds. Coinneach merely looks sad as the group examine the scroll and wonder what to do with it.
"Reet. Been down here, best be heading back way we came."
Tugging the half-elf after him, Healaugh hustles back down the corridor the junction and turns left. .
"Tell us when tha' senses owt."
he mutters over his shoulder as they pass the doors to rooms 25 (on the left) and 28 (on the right) and plows onwards.
Ynyr follows them telling himself that he's not afraid at all. Really he isn't.
Brand who has been watching all this with mixed emotion, pipes up. "I don't think it's greed at all! We all 'ave our part ta play and mine's clearly to be prtecting us and getting us where we need to be goin' as the with lady Melisana, sure as Healaugh makes a good scout, Tresmeer a sleuth, and Conall a tracker! With th' guidin wisdom of Coinneach, Ynyr and yerself must take to the readin and usin' of the magics...and if we get out out we'll be proper heroes all!! And many a feast we'll ave!" Brand seems as animated as he's ever been as he delivers the heartfelt monologue but you suspect the thought of many feasts is the driving force behing it, rather than Brigid lass or anything else as his wide-eyed expression quickly goes back to that of a curmudgeonly scrutineer.
As the group head down the corridor that joins the two wings of the mansion, the wise-woman of the group picks up a sensation of magic from the second door on the left.
Siobhán blinks slowly at Brand's outburst and after a moment she shakes her head a little. "I'm not one for grand feasts or being a hero" She utters quietly "I just want to help people, if they'll trust me enough to let me.."
Smiling sadly she listens at the door to the room that contains more magic and utterly sure there can't possibly be anything on the other side she opens the door.
Healaugh flinches a bit at the description of himself as a good scout.
"None so sure of that lad, m' bit prone to jumping in though, I'll grant that reet enough."
He also listens at the door ... and inevitably can only really hear his own thumping heart again.
Listening at the next useful door: (1d20 3=11)
"Nowt ventured, nowt gained." His hand on his spear, he opens the door.
Siobhán opens the door (with the 'aid' of Healaugh) and almost chokes. The room stinks of mold and the stench is almost unbearable. In the room are toppled bookshelves and piles of rotting papers and leather covers - books, all absolutely ruined.
The magical aura is intense now, whatever it is is in this room.
Healaugh reels back a bit under the assault of the smell.
"Eh, that's bad. Smells like summat died in here."
"Something did die, the books" Siobhán replies in a shocked and somewhat distressed voice at seeing so many old books in such a state. Stepping into the room she breaths gently through her mouth to avoid the worst of thestench as she hunts out the treasure.
Siobhán walks in and almost suffocates from the dust and stench. There is a door in the south wall, which must lead back to the study where the group found the secret door behind the tapestry. The books are completely irreparable but the wand guides her to something resting against the north wall.
It appears to be an 8 foot tall wooden plaque (floor to ceiling), only slightly damaged by pirate blades. It is a piece of relief sculpture showing a harpooner (life-size) drawing back his weapon to release at a distant whale. The plaque has been pulled bodily from the wall and is now resting against it.
Healaugh looks at the plaque with professional interest.
"Aye, that's way of it. Good throwing arm."
He moves closer to look the details.
"Be that Sea King then, Coinneach?"
Healaugh chokes out his question but notices that the old man has not followed him in.
It looks like a very well made carving of a fishing spear indeed to the halfling's eye.
Siobhán knows that the magical aura is coming from the carving of the spear.
Still gagging on the smell, Healaugh goes right up to the plaque and reaches out a hand to the spear.
"Dost tha' think thing's real?"
As the curious halfling touches the spear, it shrinks in his hand! Sliding out of a cunningly hidden fake spearhead, comes a real metal spear-head of glowing gold.
The spear fits perfectly in his hand and may well be the finest fishing spear he has ever handled.
Healaugh
Upon command, a shock weapon is sheathed in crackling electricity. The electricity does not harm the wielder. The effect remains until another command is given. A shock weapon deals an extra 1d6 points of electricity damage on a successful hit.
Small javelin
Dmg 1d4
Critical x2
Range Increment 30ft
Weight 2lb
Damage type - piercing
Were Healaugh to describe it, he might refer to it as using the power of the lightning. The command word is 'Llawela'. He somehow just knows this.
"It seems you were fated to get this one" Siobhán remarks simply with a smile as she looksover the beautiful spear in the halfling's hands. Leaving Healaugh to admire is new weapon she looks sadly over the books on the floor before moving onwards, following the will of the magical stick in her hands once more.
Healaugh
** spoiler omitted **
Healaugh's jaw drops and he cradles the spear to him.
"Brigid-lass ..." he murmers, unable to take his eyes off the weapon. "Do grand works for thee with this ..."
Healaugh continues to croon endearments at the javelin.
"Aye you're a grand one. Balanced to perfection. Don't worry, won't be using you badly, be sure o' that. Be getting you off island and working in cause of Brigid-lass before you know it..."
Coming out of his daze, he looks up to find the others staring at him. Flushing a bit, he stands up straighter.
"Still standing here are we? Why's that then? Need to be moving on I'm thinking."
Holding the javelin to his chest, he marches out of the room, across the corridor and to the opposite door.
"Best someone else listens, I'm hearing nowt but Brigid-lass." he admits.