Striding from the treeline, fussing over palm fronds that covered his manhood, Arafel joined Lilith and Dalen at the hole they dug.  A powerful incantation and the chest began to rise up, out of the sucking wet sand that held it in a death grip.  Despite his words to stay back, the two moved in and lifted with the spell.  It came free after a moment where such movement was uncertain and levitated up, now unassisted, to sit a few feet from the hole it had recently been in.  The hole it vacated filled rapidly with water, filtering upwards through the loose sand, and as sand rushed down into the hole, it was only going to be a matter of a few minutes before the hole became simply a wet depression in the beach.<br/><br/>The oil cloth wrapping the chest was easily tossed back, though there were several layers of it.  Inside a rough hewn chest, kept dry by the layers of oilcloth that had protected it.  Tossing back the lid, everything that Mistress Lilith had on her person when Blackbeard's surprise attack had come, all untouched and perfectly fine.