After the burst of showy victory, Araerys was quick to sift through the coffin for anything of interest or use. For everything that's just happened, and the life they had just lost for venturing down into these tunnels, the bard refused to accept that they would gain nothing to show for it. She unceremoniously tossed the lifeless bones aside until she found something, finally something to give them any sort of direction again. 

She extracted from the opened casket a wooden box, seemingly normal upon first glance. It appeared to be a solid piece of wood with no obvious way to open it, and just as she was about to announce the thing to the rest of the party,  a closer inspection found three words inscribed on its side in Sylvan: [i]Skiff. Rower. Return.[/i]

With brows furrowed she turned to the room, fairly lost in her theories that she missed most of what the new girl said. "Yeah, yeah..." came her absentminded response to the monologue, before she held up the box for the group to see, engraved side facing out. "Happen to see any boats on yer way in here?" Then, realizing not everyone probably spoke the language, she pointed at each of the words respectively and listed them in common. "Skiff. Rower. Return. What d'you think about that? These skellies were probably here to keep whomever from finding this thing." She shook the box a little next to her ear, curious if anything would rattle around inside. Nothing.

Araerys took another look over the box. She knew that magic items were triggered by words more often than not, and gathering by the big wad of nothing that happened when she listed them in common, decided to try again in its written language. "Skiff," she said in Sylvan, and before she could get any of the second word out the box seemed to tumble from her hand of it's own accord, suddenly and rapidly expanding from its humble wooden origin into a boat that looked like it was growing to be a size big enough to fit the party.

Araerys, eyes wide, tried to scramble out of the way of the swelling thing, but it was nearly impossible in the already cramped room. The ladies within would begin to feel it pushing them back towards the walls of the chamber, getting impossibly bigger than what size it had been. "Rower!" the half-elf shouted into the room, hoping it would quell the situation. But nothing happened other than a slight shimmering of the boat, and as soon as Araerys realized this, she shouted the last word in Sylvan, and breathed a huge sigh of relief as the water skiff immediately responded and began shrinking back into its original form. 

Soon it was as if nothing had happened; the wooden box sat innocently in the middle of the floor and was nothing other than what Ary had pulled out of the coffin. "What," she breathed, pointing an accusing finger at the thing, "in the nine hells. Was that?"