The older man motioned at the younger man, who appeared a few moments later with a shaggy and malnourished donkey pulling a cart.  The cart was old and weathered, the wheels cracked and only held together by the metal ring.  There was a fresher looking spot, as if some of the exterior had been scrubbed or chipped off.  It was a small cart, barely large enough to fit the goods and certainly not large to fit the goods and the heroines.<br/><br/>The old man pulled out a piece of stained parchment and a bit of charcoal as Morena asked for directions.  He began to draw as he spoke, the lines and art smudged and worse than useless.<br/><br/>"Follow the main road east out of the city.  Turn left at the crossroad with the old gallows tree.  You'll go over a rocky hilly, turn right at the bottom onto the dirt track.  Continue on until you reach the creek that comes out of the cave.  They are set up near the cave."  He explained as he drew lines, trees, what was probably supposed to be a cave, and a stick figure man.<br/><br/>The old man glanced at Brin as she spoke, seemed to do a double take as she smiled her toothy smile, glanced back at Morena quickly, then forced his own smile as he answered Brin's question.<br/><br/>"If you go at a normal pace it is a long day's journey.  You'll get there after dark, but you won't have to camp."  He informed her.