Shandril sets to work, there before the altar of Freya, calling on the will of her goddess to heal those who were injured during the quest to recover the village's sacred treasure.  One by one the injured stand before her, and she murmurs prayers to Freya.  Even the chill numbness that Ozzy and Arrnr still feel after Eralion's icy touch succumbs to the strength of Freya, and the pair soon feel their strength returning as warmth spreads through their limbs.

Before long, everybody in the party, including Bilfro, is in the best of health again.

With the healing over. Shandril asks, "What are your plans?  Will you stay with us a few days more, or do you intend to carry on?"

Corian clears his throat, "I do not intend to move on at all.  Fairhill was always my destination.  I have what I came here for, and in all likelihood I will stay here for a few days, before returning to Reme."

"I have considered this during the night," Aramil adds, "and have decided that I will not be travelling onward to Rappan Athuk.  I will stay in Fairhill for a while, at least, and ensure that travellers hear the true story of the fall of Eralion."

"Or better yet," Erista suggests, "You could tell the good version!"  She grins, but then says, more seriously, "You know we'll miss you, but, as nice as Fairhill is, I'll be going on," she says, resolutely.

Aarnr's pride would normally forbid such indignities as admitting any hurt, yet the priest finds the sapping of his strength an almost equal affrontery, and besides at least that injury was sustained (or thereabouts) in the retrieval of Freya's blessed cup, so he lines up with the rest of the impatients ... and is pleased he did so once his full vigour is restored, even forgetting himself enough to almost politely thank Shandril.

"Where's Reme ?" he asks Ozzie.  "Worth a visit ?"

Rappan Atthuk !  Aramil's reminder of the dangers and battles that await go a long way towards compensating for the loss of a treasured companion.  "Keep an eye on those two puttocks," he advises the minstrel quietly, indicating the mayor and the captain of the guard.  "An' teach these soft city-folk what it froggin' means to be a warrior."

Colwyn sneers at Corian's intent to leave the party - he hadn't really seen eye to eye with him since his original declaration that he had lied to them, so the news that he will not be continuing on with them, but will instead return to the start of their journey, brings mixed feelings.

The announcement of Aramil's departure is more sadly felt.

Still, Rappan Athuk and its wealth await.

Aramil bows his head to Erista, then to Aarnr.  "I shall do my utmost.  And speaking of warriors... "  He draws his shortsword, and speaks to the party as a whole, "Who will have this blade?  I took it from the farmhouse where we fought Vortigern.  It bears a little magic, and I doubt I'll have much use for it here.  I feel its size will suit Ozzy or Colwyn best."

Ozzy answers his blood brother, " Reme? Dunno, never been there." he says. Then Aramils sword is offered and he is quick to stand in front of Corian. Javelins and slings had kept him alive this long, but more than once had he felt the need for a blade bigger than his daggers. " I would love a new sword! Maybe later Aarnr can show me the skills needed to wield it."

"We will find a monster for thou to slay," Aarnr grins at the halfling, nodding his approval at Aramil's generous gift.  Training is very on-the-job with the priest and can best be explained as 'kill or be killed'.

"Ah, Aramil," Eilieen murmurs, patting the half-elf upon the shoulder.  "We shall miss you, your support, and yes, your tales.  I would hear your songs in the future, when we return - so stay well and safe, my friend."  She suddenly smiles.  "And should another disaster befall the town - perhaps another night where Tommy goes missing - I am sure you will stand ready to defend it."

Half-joking...but only half.

"I am with Erista, and will journey onward to Rappan Athuk," Eilieen announces.  "If it is a danger to good folk, it must be investigated.  Perhaps there is something we can do to stem the tide of darkness...failing that, we might at least bring word of the dangers."  A firm nod follows.  "Good luck, Corian.  Be well, here."

Shandril leaves the room, and returns a short while later with some rolls of parchment, "In my youth I was an adventurer, and travelled extensively."  She starts to unroll one of the parchments, "I created maps of large areas of the countryside between the Great Sea and the Inland Sea, and from the Azure Mountains in the north, to the Forest of Hope in the south.  This one shows the Tradeway.  Perhaps it would be of interest to you, providing some idea of the lay of the land between here and Freegate"

"I will wish you all good fortune on your journey." Corian says, with a bow, "I will take my leave now, having little further interest in the road from here to Rappan Athuk.  Perhaps I shall see you at the Drunken Cockatrice before you leave.  I intend to stay there, for a while, at least."  He starts towards the door, waving self-consciously.

Colwyn, meanwhile, makes a great point of examining the map, while ignoring Corian.  "'ere look, it's bein' Reme, right there.  An' that's bein' where we is now.  It's not bein' far ter Bard's Gate neither.  Then straight 'long the road, east ter Freegate.  Easy as pie."

"Perhaps not that easy.  The road goes through the Forest Kingdoms.  They are small realms, kingdoms scarce bigger than the palm of your hand.  Fierce people, who are not above a little theft and brigandage, when the need and the opportunity present themselves."  Shandril lays a finger on the map, indicating an area just east of Bard's Gate.

"Beyond, you come to Derindin, which lays on a bridge over a chasm.  From there, you have two choices.  Follow the road road to Freegate, then go down the Coast Road to Rappan Athuk, or cut across country to the Forest of Hope, and the den of evil itself."

"Thou are a gleekin' guts-gripin' barnacle," Aarnr informs Corian. "But thy quest was indeed most enjoyable and I forgive thee all thy lies.  When we return, thou can ply us with food and ale and we shall look back upon this time with pride."

With the party's pernicious patron properly farewelled, Aarnr looks over this 'map' that the priestess proffers, growing more and more puzzled until Shandril's explanation is forthcoming.  "Fierce, perhaps, but froggin' small," he tells her, examining his palm.  "They shall trouble us but little."

Erista looks rather doubtfully at the palm of her hand.  She suspects that Aarnr's palms might offer a span worth ruling over, complete with rough badlands, a small mountainous region in the north, and possibly even a sort of forest until his next ba-- quite probably even a sort of forest.  But in her own case, Shandril's metaphor may be stretched a little too thin.

Looking up again, she smiles politely, setting aside her thoughts.  "Well, thank you.  The Forest of Hope sounds pleasant, at least.  Up until the den of evil part, at any rate," she allows.  "I'm sure we'll be safer for your warnings."

"I have little doubt that your words will prove to be true, bold Aarnr, knowing what you faced at Eralion's keep."

Shandril's face falls, "Once, years ago, the Forest of Hope was just as its name implies.  A pleasant land, filled with all manner of woodland creatures.  Elves lived there, and satyrs and centaurs.  Then the cult of Orcus, driven out of their former stronghold, came to the forest, and discovered a labyrinth of caverns below.  They established themselves there, mining and constructing a vast underground complex, and tainting the forest with the foul stench of evil."

"Eventually, when they were done, the forest became home to trolls and goblins, and other creatures of darkness, and the elves were forced out, or slain.  The cult built a mausoleum, a suitable place to house the temple of their evil death god, and around it a graveyard, said to hold the twisted remains of ancient heroes, corrupted by profane rituals and the blackest of magic."

A sigh, and the elf shakes her head, "Now the name, Forest of Hope, exists only as a mockery, or a reminder."

"Or perhaps as a wish for the future.  Perhaps, one day, Rappan Athuk will fall, and the cult of Orcus with it."

With a wave to Corian and a small bow, Eilieen turns back to the map.  She'd have hugged him, but people tend to misinterpret, in her experience.  "Our thanks for the use of the maps," she offers to Shandril before studying them in her own turn and pursing her lips at the explanations.

"The Forest Kingdoms sound quite threatening," she murmurs despite Aarnr's conclusion, "but it seems we have little choice but pass through them.  The way around would be lengthly, and no-doubt full of its own hazards.  Better to face the threat we know."

"As for the Forest of Hope, such as it is..."  She considers, tapping her finger against her lips.  "Perhaps t'would be best for us to consider which path to take once we have passed through the Forest Kingdoms.  That will be our proving grounds, I suspect - should we win our way through with ease, perhaps we should attempt the Forest of Hope.  If not...maybe the city would offer a safer journey to Rappan Athuk."

The discussion regarding the road ahead continues, the weighing and balancing of dangers and advantages to be found on the various routes, and at Rappan Athuk itself.  Colwyn is quiet for the most part, leaning over the map to study it in greater detail.  Occasionally he voices his opinion on suggestions and questions put forward by the others, mostly to do with the difficulty of taking an ox cart off the road, but since Fairhill is the furthest east he has ever travelled, he doesn't really have a lot to say.

He does, however, have one question of his own, "When's we plannin' on leavin'?  I's meanin' it's still bein' early, like, so's we can be gettin' a good start on the road terday.  But it'll be takin' a few days ter get ter Bard's Gate anyways, so's a day won't be makin' much difference in the end."

"What's yers thinkin'?"

" Not thinking about much." Ozzy answers, holding little interest in the map, " We travel as far as Bards Gate and then decide how best to approach Rappan Athuk. Looks like we would travel on to Deriden and then take the south road." he adds after a quick glance at the map. He shrugs, sliding down off his chair as he shoulders his pack.

" I'm ready to start walking when you are."

These map things still greatly puzzle Aarnr, but then he hasn't got the hang of roads yet either, the man of the fens still of the firm opinion that the quickest way between here and there is with a horde at your back.

Nor does he have much truck with 'safe', happily dividing the world into 'easy to kill' and 'hard to kill'.  But the mention of Orcus and the foul undead that now lurk in the Forest of Hope has him keen to make haste, and he applauds Ozzy's enthusiasm.

Bard's Gate sounds like an auspicious place from which to begin their quest ...

"We must go now," the priest opines.

The discussion continues for several minutes.

There are things that need to be decided.  Do they need to get supplies before leaving Fairhill, or will they rely on hunting and foraging along the way?  Should they sell the cart, meaning that they can carry less provisions?  Or should they keep it, and possibly be faced with the difficulty of taking it across country from Derindin?

And, in the midst of it all, and with considerable surprise, Bilfro suddenly realises that his new friends are going to Rappan Athuk (which, in all honesty, somebody might have mentioned before, but he was fairly sure that they hadn't).

"Leave the cart," Eilieen states.  It's painful, but... "What shall we do with it, should we decide to go across country?  Leave the horse to die?  No, such would be a terrible thing to do to a poor creature who depended upon us.  We could sell the cart here, for a pittance, and use the pennies to purchase provisions.  Perhaps we might supplement the food with forage found in the forests."

She beams, obviously pleased at having come up with The Logical Answer™.  Though Eilieen then deflates somewhat at the realization that this will mean more sleeping on the hard ground, more carrying the food herself, and more discomfort in general.

Honestly, the things one must do to bring light back into the world....

"We could eat 'em," Aarnr suggests practically, the priestess having added to his understanding that 'horse' is the local term for a pair of oxen.  ;>

Ozzy shakes his head as he considers the option of travelling without the cart. " Without a cart, how we supposta' carry all the gold when we come back?" He looks at his own pack doubtfully, not relishing the thought of walking any distance with a hundred pounds hanging from his shoulders.

Never having had a cart, Bilfro was used to travelling light.  At least in body.  His mind was dark and brooding and he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Oh no, wait, that was his broody twin brother he did not know he had.

But travelling light he was used to, plus it made passing over any creaky things less stressful.  Stress he did not like at all.  It was very stressful and that stressed his stressfulness to a stressed state of near distress.  And few words improve by adding di in front of them, except when it did.

But he was curious, and so he spoke for what felt like the first time since last he spoke, which probably was not unlikely.

"Why?"

Realising he may need to expound upon his query he spoke anew.

"Why Rappan Athuk?"

"I's not knowin' bout the rest of these 'ere buggers, But I's 'eard as 'ow there's bein' a 'ole area what monster's isn't bein' able ter get ter, on account of 'ow it's 'avin' some sort of magic door." Colwyn says, his mismatched eyes gleaming, as they simultaneously focus on two points located one above each of Bilfro's shoulders, "So no bleedin' monsters, jus' 'eaps an' 'eaps of jewels sittin' in 'normous great 'eaps on the floor."

"I's meanin' ter be openin' that there door, Bilfro mate.  An gettin' rich as a priest."

His mouth twists into a blissful smile, as he imagines the value of a cart filled with gems, even after some thieving fence has taken his cut.

Shandril, though, looks horrified, especially at the rogue's mention of the wealth of clergy.  "I don't believe that story to be true."

"Maybe as not, but there's only bein' one way as I's goin' ter be findin' out fer sure."

Ozzy looks at the elderly Bilfro and tells him, " Inside a great labyrinth deep beneath Rappan Athuk grows a strange mushroom which can restore youth to a human!" He nudges the old wizard and adds, " Certainly you'd like to try a bit of that, eh?"

"Monsters.  Spoils.  Glory."  Aarnr tries to think if he's left anything out.

"I heard there's a whole city of gleepin' goblins down there, an' the gore-bellied trollocs are just waitin' to be killed !"

"Safety," Eilieen firmly states.  "Not...safety for us," she hurries to clarify.  "Safety for those innocents who suffer, thanks to the evils released by the dread dungeon.  We shall clenase it."

She pauses a moment, then shrugs - it actually seems appropriate.  "With fire."

"Well," Erista pipes up, not to be left out entirely, "I heard there's magic black skeletons that aren't afraid of the Gods!"  She brushes her hair back, and shrugs a little.  "...That's not why I'm going, of course, it's just something I heard.  Actually, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure he told me that to try to talk me out of going.  But then he patted me on the head and said I'd best be getting home before my parents got worried, so."