Menaria listens to the High Priestess's answers carefully. 'Sounds like rivalry', she thought, 'but she could have been led to believe that as well.' She sighs, mostly to herself. 'What is to be done now?' Feeling as if she hadn't slept in weeks, the weight of the High Priestess's death lies heavily in her heart. 'Like a mother to me...' She lowers her head as the spell wears off and the High Priestess's eyes close once more. Several tears slip down her cheek as she tries to stifle the sob that cries to be released. Roland shakes his head. "No need to cry at all lass. Without loss we gain naught as people. This deed must be set right, that much is true, but tears do nothing but dampen the fire of what light one might bring upon a darkened situation." He offers a smile after his words, almost apologetic. He looks to the inspector, shaking his head softly at the man. Clearly sir, I'm not the one to blame for this, so if you wouldn't mind all that much, I wish to be leaving." He steps out of the room and finds the nearest member of the temple, placing a hand on her sobbing shoulder and speaking softly. "Tell me lass, where might the closest temple of your goddess aside from this one be?" Lannstucht shakes her complex braids in turn at Roland and states in a well- modulated and obviously trained voice, "You are close to the track, but not fully upon it. The priestess said that only the High Priestesses of the temples knew the location, no? Thus, she may have meant the temples of any deity. Since we do not know whether she meant her own deity or any deity, we should send two parties out. One should go to the closest temple of any type, and one to the nearest temple of her own goddess. In this manner, we should be best placed to prevent another murder, as well as to find out why it is that the possession of this 'Spear' is thought worthy of such deeds." With a level glance around those present, she goes on, "If we are then agreed, we should divide ourselves and go forth. There is no time to waste." Tanda wandered back in, still wearing the priestess's robe. "Everything's all right, just had to get Korg's mind off of his sword fixation. So, what did I miss?" Korg wanders back eventually, following Tanda. He seems quite a bit less grouchy than before, even if it's only apparent because of being quieter. Deciding to ignore Tanda's initial barb, he stands with the rest and listens to an account of what's happened. Not necessarily grasping all of it, and especially not the implications, but quietly listening. The priestess fights back her tears, in order to be strong for the faithful who are starting to be heard from downstairs. Taking a deep breath, and wrapping her silk robe around her tighter, she finally acknowledges Roland's question. "The city of Penticton," she replies, "a three day journey from here, due east. If you are headed there, I ask that you take Menaria with you, both as a representative of our temple and as a healer and diplomat in her own right." "Right," Tanda said. "Mind if I take Sister Phoebe with me?" "Sister Phoebe? An odd request, especially as she has not yet fully established herself here yet. No, I believe Menaria should be sufficient, for now." Tanda returns the robe to Phoebe and puts on her own exploring outfit. Roland smiles, a warm hand covering the woman's. "If she will have no qualms with not taking ample time to grieve, I would be honored to accompany her." Roland looks to Menaria. It's easy to see that he is ready for the road. After being interrogated by Richelieu, Glim starts down to the kitchens for breakfast. He doesn't get quite out of Richelieu’s earshot before sniffing the air. "Mmm... I think I smell bacon." Wandering down to the street level, Glim will find his way to the temple’s kitchens and see what they're serving up. While he's eating, he scratches a few drawings and some notations onto a piece of hide parchment he pulls from one of the numerous pockets on his vest. Anyone looking over his shoulder will see that he's trying to mate a short tube to a flat square plate by a cantilevered device. Some of the notes seem to involve the new black powder developed by the Rinkasaen Gnomes. There also appear to be quite a few ballistics equations involved. Looking at his plate and eating utensils, he starts setting them up so that the spoon is balance over the back of the fork with a good quantity of oatmeal on the spoon's bowl. He looks up just in time to see the disapproving looks of several kitchen maids, realizes what he's about to do and where, and disassembles the whole thing. After his meal, he heads back upstairs to see if anything else is going on. Gulping down her tears, Menaria nods. "I will go. The quicker we resolve this, the quicker things can get back to normal." She smiles reassuringly at the other priestess. "I'll gather my things up to leave." And in saying such she goes to her room and gathers up her few belongings and puts on a change of clothing, more suitable for adventuring in. Roland can be found waiting outside once all who are coming are ready. His pack is over his shoulder and he seems calm enough. It's evident he wishes to make haste. Glim gets himself down to the stables and has his two mules, Franjean and Rul, hitches to his wagon and ready to move out. Glad to see that his animals have been well cared for, Glim checks to make sure all his wagon's contents are aboard and tied down. He doesn't want any unfortunate accidents like the one that blew up his last wagon and left a sizeable crater in the road several years ago. 'Maybe I should come up with better packaging for my Alchemist Lab,' he thinks. Once all is secure, he drives the wagon out around to the front of the temple. "We ready to go Roland?" Roland looks over to Glim with a smile. "Well, I happen to be ready, as is the young priestess, but I'm unsure about everyone else." Roland makes no move towards the wagon and doesn't seem to have any method of transportation aside from his own feet, but he insists upon traveling in his own way. The sounds of a cuff and an oddly muffled clatter of hooves echo across the courtyard just prior to the explosion of a furious Dunnstacht out from the corner of the building. Lannstucht calmly draws the half ton of blood rage to a ‘halt’ beside the wagon; that is, there is no further forward progression as the stallion does his utmost to rid himself of his rider who sits unaffectedly on his back. "Shall we then be off?" "I cannot see why not," replies Roland. He spreads his arms out horizontally, seemingly flat and parallel with one another. "Flight," he utters, and his scarf suddenly flares with brilliant white energy. In this flash, it becomes a pair of white, dove-like wings sprouting from his back. He has a slight smirk on his lips if he gets any shocked onlookers. His feet leave the ground, and the wings support him. Lannstucht nods coolly at Roland and continues to look at the actual target of her comment in the wagon. Segev left the room shortly after the questioning of the corpse was completed. He arrived outside with little fanfare, the only noticeable change from what he had inside being the addition of a wicked-looking sacrificial dagger to his belt. He nods to the gnome, but turns his attention primarily to Menaria and Roland. He speaks softly, even for him, pitching his voice to be heard only by the two to whom he speaks. "While I would normally advise seeking assistance from local temples of other deities, this particular circumstance would seem to require discretion. Why your high priestess would have a connection to Bri'ney's spear is a question best answered by another high priestess of your religion, Menaria. We should try to keep what little we found out from the ears of other temples until we can get more information." Roland looks over. "Aye, a wise word indeed, though such a point should be taken as moot. Perhaps then I shouldn't fly?" "I am glad we are in accordance." Segev's cold gaze could be taken as reproof, if Roland didn't know that he always looked at everyone that way. From his seat on the wagon, Glim looks from Roland to Segev and back. "Roland, me lad, I still think our friend here is about as emotional as a definite integral." Astride her black stallion Midnight, Tanda massaged her forehead with a hand. "You know, short stuff," she said. "You could make people's brains hurt a lot less if you simply said 'bowl of day-old oat gruel'." "... day-old... Now, Tanda, really, I hardly think he's mushy." Segev cocks an eyebrow at Glim, responding to his comment with a voice that cares little, if at all. "The situation can only upset me insomuch as it harms my friends. I do not like seeing Menaria grieve so. I cannot ease her pain by suffering it with her, nor can I conceive any benefit in feeling any emotion of my own regarding this event. We have what could potentially be a great problem. We must seek to remedy it. That is the best way to help this temple and to preserve our well-being. Menaria may grieve. I have no need to. I shall maintain rational analysis and urge action based upon that. Anything else risks hindering our goals." Lannstucht prevents Dunnstacht from taking a large chunk out of Midnight, gold-inlaid serrated steel-capped teeth snapping closed a few inches away. Chuckling, Lannstucht cuffs her Rochladabred stallion. "You'd best get used to him, boy. It's a long trip. Besides, he's *hardly* worth your effort. No offense, Tanda. Not everyone (or horse) has the good fortune to be born in the Rochladastacht." Tanda laughed nervously. "None taken. My life would've been a lot easier if I had been, but I think I turned out all right the way things went." She eyed the other horse's teeth askance. "That looks more like something you'd find on a mount of the Outriders of Rochlad." Once the group is out of sight of the temple, Tanda gets Korg's sword, combat gear, and stuff out of her pack and gives them back to him. Eventually everyone is gathered and moving out, making their way through the city. The city architecture is a unique blend of ancient stone work, mostly granite, and recent woodwork in intricate designs that blend into each other, creating the illusion of countryside in more populated areas. The number of elves and half-elves in this predominantly human city seems astounding. When Tanda stops to transfer his gear back over, Korg quickly packs his plate armor into the saddlebag reserved for it, and situates his greatsword back to its rightful place across his back. Re-armed, Korg seems to relax somewhat and even starts a low, rumbling sound in his throat; what would be called humming a tune in anyone with more musical aptitude. The guards pay you no mind as you leave the city gates. The gates appear to be guarded by four people, two humans wearing chain shirts and carrying longswords, and two elves wearing padded armor, carrying bows, and with pouches on their armor’s belts. The elves seem to glare at Segev, frowning, but saying nothing. Outside the city, the road appears to run along rolling fields of crops, predominantly corn, beans, peas, and potatoes. A spire of a keep rises from the horizon to the north, and a giant eagle can be seen drifting on the winds to the east, slowly circling. Not far from the city, the road forks to the north and east. A road sign sits in the corner, pointing to Caer Zitheral behind you, Penticon to the east, and Elkader to the north. The road also branches to the west, pointing to the nation of South Ford. A pair of goblins, one wearing very shiny plate armor, the other wearing studded leather, sit astride dire wolves at the fork, arguing with each other in goblin. They seem oblivious to your approach at first, although the dire wolves aren’t.