"You'll face no argument from me." A few kicks at the lid of the crate they're inspecting knocks it open, and they kneel to scrape it open with the rasp of wood on wood. As suspected, there is nothing of use within: fibers of ropes and clothing have withered away over time.

Does the smell of rot unsettle him? How rude.

At last they locate a pen-knife, which they promptly pocket. Knives are useful tools.