Quentin eventually opted to extinguish his torch temporarily. Using it as light to read by, while also trying to read, while also ensuring it didn't get close to the pages so that the heat didn't accidentally start a fire proving to be a bit too much of a juggling act. Plus, it occurred to him that while there were merits to them each having their own light source it was hard to say how long they would be down there so having one in reserve might be an idea.

Flipping to the last few pages of the log he finds them blank, flipping backwards until he comes to the last few entries. "I see." He says thoughtfully. "It appears as though our Captain Delancy might have been a scallywag, but he was a principled one. The crew picked up some sort of disease that spread through them like wildfire. Only our map maker seemed to be spared and he was sent away while the rest of the crew remained in quarantine. They couldn't send for official help... Lord, this is ghastly." He says as he reads on.

Captain Delancy apparently had experience with plague from his time with the navy, before he'd turned to piracy and he'd followed proper procedure. But even with the mapmaker sending supplies down through the chute regularly, the crew hadn't improved and eventually only the captain had been left. Sick and dying, he'd written his last will and testament before weighing himself down and throwing himself into the cove to die, well not at sea, but in seawater and apparently, that was the way he'd chosen to go.

"Makes sense why our mapmaker didn't immediately return, he knew that if he did so too soon there was a chance the plague would still remain." After nearly a century it was doubtful that even it had survived.

Gareth felt annoyed at being pulled closer by Claire's movement. He preferred to stay close to the door. Yet when Quenting started reading from the book, it did catch his attention and he moved closer to read for himself. He swore softly. Had to be some bad disease.

Her eyes widened at the story and she said, "That is unfortunate for them." She wasn't sure how to feel about the situation. "That begs the question still, what about the treasure? Are there more clues we need to follow?"

"Hrmmm, no I doubt there any clues. I think the clues were our pilot's idea and he wouldn't have risked breaking the quarantine to sneak down here to hide more of them." Quentin says as he searches the pages until he finds the log of cargo brought in and out. "Ah," He says as he reads. "There is a storage house that was kept under lock and key, so we will have to find the key or break the lock. But they kept their cargo in there."

He looks up and shrugs. "Shall we?"

The big man leads the way out of the captain's quarters, the rope dragging Clair and Gareth along. A board creaks underneath his feet as he goes and Gareth might think to call for a halt before he steps on the plank himself but the big man was enthused and not paying attention. For the second time that day, the reporter would find the floor vanishing from underneath him as he plummets through the planks and into the ship's hold. Fortunately, he landed on something that broke his fall. Tragically, that something was a cloth hammock that was decaying with age and it split after a moment. Even more unfortunately as Quentin and Clair are dragged towards the opening, Gareth would find that the hammock had a rather boney occupant already, as in, it had the skeletal remains of a pirate.

This was clearly not his day.

Gareth screamed when he fell through the floor and his fall was suddenly halted and then continued. He dropped on the floor on something that cracked beneath him. His torch had fallen beside him. He jumped up. He was in pain, bruised, but nothing seemed broken. Expect.... He glanced at what he had fallen on, stumbled back, and gave a shriek, that was cut off when he bent over and vomited.

Too bad he didn't vomit over the torch that was now lighting a hammock on fire.

Of course, because there was a rope tied around her and the others, she went down after Gareth. But unlike him, she didn't vomit all over the place upon the sight of the skeletal remains. Her torch had gone out upon hitting the floor, thankfully, but his torch... "Shit!" she cried out and took off her jacket, whipping it at the flames to try and smother them before they set the whole place on fire. "I didn't say that..." she muttered as she sought to keep them from going up in the flames too. The ire was soon put out and she then turned her attention to Gareth, offering a hand up.

Claire's luck and quick thinking were well appreciated. While the wood was damp from being in a cave with high moisture thanks to the lake, had the ship caught in earnest the entire place would have eventually gone up. The smoke alone would have been enough to leave all of them dead so it was fortunate that she was as level-headed as she was.

It was equally fortunate that Quentin had managed to grab onto a bit of iron rigging and that it managed to hold his weight. If his bulk had crashed down he might have smashed right out of the ship as it was he was still on deck braced as best he can.

"Gareth! Claire! Are you alright?"

He calls down once some of the slack goes out of the rope. Gareth had gotten closer to Quentin when he'd gone to vomit.

Gareth let Claire help him up. "Thank you..." he said. His legs were still shaky and so he doubted he would have been able to get up by himself. "Aye, but there's human remains down here!" he shouted up. The idea that he had fallen on top of them was enough to send another shiver down his spine.

"We're alright I think," she called up and then looked to Gareth, noting the way his legs still trembled and feeling bad for the poor guy. He was still a slime, don't get her wrong, but he was a slime that just puked and got the scare of his life.

"Well, I suppose we know where the crew ended up."

Quentin shifts, they have no light source which was not ideal.

"Okay, I need you two to move toward the sound of my voice. I need a bit more slack on the line so I can try and navigate my pack to get my torch lit again."

It was black as pitch in the cave so without that, they were pretty much screwed.