The elven sisters nod at each other. "Distribute them among the trees, let Nature take her due." Apparently, this is the one thing they agree upon. Daminor simply shrugs, and helps them haul the bodies around, spreading them around the area.<br/><br/>With the loot, and the cleric, loaded into the cart, and the horse hitched to it, they set off once more down the road, towards Drellin's Ferry.<br/><br/>The road descends into a small town built mostly on the near side of a broad, sluggish river. Six old stone piers jut from the water, marking the spot where a bridge once stood, but the span itself is long gone. Instead, a couple of long thick ropes cross the river, each secured to a flat-bottomed ferryboat. Brown fields and green orchards surround the town.<br/><br/>A group of armed townsfolk - three in leather, one in mail - stands guard, watching you warily. "Hail, and state your business, strangers," one of the guards says.