"Could be some fool travelers trying to take a shortcut and slipped into the muck, could be some of them goblins doing the same." He sniffs the air and turns his gaze skyward, scanning the horizon. "Seems a bit far for just a slip, might be something knocked it in, a manticore or a dragon maybe. Not too common to see dragons round these part but every now and again one will pass through. If something dragged it in, could be a shambling mound or some river trolls. They're like sea trolls, except allergic to salt water. Can placate them with fresh meat, though that usually only holds them up for a bit and it's better to..." the man begins a somewhat circuitous ramble about the nature of river trolls which - while certainly enlightening - doesn't seem terribly relevant. After a few minutes he finally circles back around to the wagon, finishing on "Wasn't here last time I came this way some...two, no, three weeks back."

Leif's magic swirls the water around the wagon and tugs free the metal object. It floats on the surface for a moment before sinking, and you get eyes on what looks to be a chainmail shirt, one that has remained remarkably clean and shiny despite the bog, which typically hints at magic.