Enoch's blue eyes look at the chest. He shrugs lifting it to carry by strapping it to his back with rope.
The Paladin now has the look of an armed pack mule...
Nyarai keeps eyeing the man as he hoosts a chest and carries it around on his back. "Impressive, but that can't be comfortable." She remains nearby, ready to summon her wards if needed. She does, occasionally, look at Loosey, pondering something.
Leaving the cave, the party is no doubt relieved to see the fisherman and his boat still where he had parked on the shore. He looks up from his tackle box to greet you. "Heard a lot of noise from inside. Glad to see you lot survived. So, was it ol' Ariadnah back from the great beyond?"
He will ferry you all back to Thrushmoor, making it quite late in the evening, and after accepting his generous pay will leave you to your business, rushing home with a grin on his face and a welcome weight in his purse.
Loosey looks at the others. "We could report to Ms. Cesadia right away, as I'm sure she would like to know about our progress and help direct our investigation. Or we might seek out the troubled man who set us off for the island, to inform him that the threat is no more and ask him to stop warning the district of doom. Or, it being so late, we might do better to turn in for the night."
Ethyl suggests, "I require rest plus, if we have no supernatural means of healing our injuries, I will need time to help our bodies recover naturally."
She continues, "If Cesadia requires an immediate report perhaps you and Iosif could see to her while I see to Nyarai and Enoch's injuries."
At the mention of injury, the Paladin noticed that he is indeed a bit bruised.
He winks at the good doctor.
Loosey nods. "Let's rest, then. Perhaps tomorrow we can exchange some of the things we found on the island for supernatural means of healing, to ease your worries?"
Ethyl eyes Loosey as she mistakes her true intent, "I prefer natural healing to magic, I know how the body works to restore itself. But magic is useful if we're in a hurry."
"But we-", Nyarai starts speaking before stopping mid-sentence. She nods her head. "But we speak with Wrentz in the morning?"
She looks around, clinging to her newly acquired plant-crushing tools wrapped in a cloth that clings to life by two threads and a dream.
"We should be able to muster some magics. Perhaps."
Loosey smiles, as if everyone is in agreement. "If I were to take a few minutes to concentrate on the energies involved, doctor, I could perform a healing ritual similar to the one that Enoch did, should you diagnose that it is necessary. I'm afraid it is indeed 'magic,' at least as far as I understand the word, so if you advise against me using it on you I will of course be guided by your expertise."
Ethyl nods at Loosey, "If you think it would help, by all means my dear."
Ethyl takes the time to tend to her and Nyarai's wounds once safely back at the Silver Wagon. She treats the burns caused by lightning by cleaning the affected areas gently, trimming away any dead flesh, and applying and a little ointment as she thinks she can get away with.
Before everyone retires for the night, Loosey will privately entreat the genii loci civitatis to grant her healing spells, and when she emerges she will offer to cast them on Ethyl and Nyarai.
Those needing healing may head to their rooms in the Silver Wagon, spending the hours needed to do so. Those reporting to the Sleepless Building will find all but Cesadia herself still "clocked in". The head detective takes the news of the druid's presence with a set jaw.
"Aha, well it doesn't sound like the Briarstone Witch, so that should silence Elgrior's complaints for now. Well done, all of you. I shall have the case files for Lowls' compatriots in the morning. Get some rest till then. Who knows what will happen tomorrow."
Meanwhile at the silver Wagon, Nyarai puts down her newly-found tools wherever there's space. She looks at the thing, pondering. "Well, perhaps carrying this around is not worth the effort. At least not until we have a permanent place to put it in. Anyone wants a mortar and pestle?" She looks around the place for any takers. "Free?"
After returning to the Sleepless Detective, having given their reports and returning to the Silver Wagon for supper, the Paladin stays up in the Common room for relaxed conversation with his new companions (and newer companions).
Shall we share a meal, perhaps discuss our current situation as it pertainment to our previous situation and where this all leads?
Loosey smiles at the suggestion. "What a good idea! That sounds splendid," she says. "I must admit, I myself am burning with curiosity about your adventures before we became colleagues. Any stories of your time on the island that you'd be willing to share?"
"Welcome to the club." Nyarai looks at the ceiling, attempts to remember something, and sighs with frustration. "We are also curious about the past, and would very much like to look at the files your boss has available. But yes. Maybe some familiar smells could bring some memories back."
"And we can tell you about the time we spoke to a few librarian rats..."
Ethyl shudders at the mention of Ratch and their foul kin. She asks, "Must we talk of them? A much more pleasant topic would be the time I was doused in formalin by a reanimated fetus."
She drank a pair of potions opting to spit the second one back into its container. She hope that the liquid would ease her troubled mind.