"I imagine I am probably one of the first born-winged men you have come across," he offers with another faint shrug. "A guess would have been valid, but it could have gone either way, as far as the abilities go."

Skellig studies the charts on the desk, papers, a logbook sits open. There are some basic 'tools of the trade', though in one corner of the room sits a bucket which contains a few...implements, previously mentioned whip included. He notes it, but pays it little heed; his focus is on the chests.

"Unless we can find a key - perhaps within the desk," he suggests. "These may take a slight bit more effort..." He kneels before one, places a hand on the top of the wood, lightly drums his fingertips against the surface, listening closely.