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"Quickly now!" the skipper yells as the proud-sterned longboat nears the island; "Bring her about!" he shouts once more. The sailors, bulky men of Norodaj stock, hurry to obey their sea-sprayed leader, who now makes his way towards the back of the ship where its single passenger is seated.
He approaches the bench where the character is seated and makes a quick bow. He addresses the hooded figure respectfully saying "Expleti, we are approaching the isle to which you asked that you be brought. You are sure we shall not be attacked? This looks like a barbarous place - see this spur of land which we pass, fire belows from it... I do not trust that my men should go near it." indeed, the ship was now rounding the briar coast, at the bottom end of which one of the darkest of Gobaith's secrets rested fitfully.
Speaking simply the white-robed Credii monk counsels the wavering sea-man, "Fear it not, good captain, we are safe. There is no place in this creation where demons do not make their habitation, as such this is no greater danger to you than any journey you have made. Have peace."
The skipper bows once more, before hurrying off to tend to his duties elsewhere on the vessel - there was not much left to be done, as the vessel had nearly reached the port, the strong oar-men having brought the vessel quickly towards its destination.
The Archbishop sighed, he had been away for far too long and knew not the religious situation now upon the isle. How many infatuated worldlings would have lost track of the spirit's beckonings, and thus be swept away like so many a careless sailor? Indeed, how many men would have forgotten that the world, this boat on which they travelled, was not their final destination but merely the means to reach it? The Credii would have to be awoken, certainly, if there was going to be a change in this. Preaching must be done so that men might combat this perennial laziness that too often takes hold of their souls.
As the boat pulled in, the men put their oars up, and the boat glided gently up to the jetty, where it was quickly secured with ropes. The Expleti, Anthony Carthusiana by name, put away the prayer beads with which he had distracted himself for most the journey and grabbing his staff of office arose, and stepped onto the jetty. As he did so, he handed the Noradaj captain a pouch full of silver and bowed to him, a gesture which was quickly returned. This silent gesture of thanks done, the monk walks onto the land and smiles.
The Archbishop tightened his hood around his face, making sure that all his features were still covered despite the strong sea breeze, this being so he falls to his knees in a prayer of thanksgiving to Eldan, who had seen fit to bring him back to the island upon which he had placed him. "Holy Eldan, though hidden in that realm of thine own making, I express my gratitude to thee for having brought me safe thus far to Gobaith so that I might here do thy work. I beseech thee to grant every good gift to myself for the exercising of thy labours, O mighty spirit. Allow me, if it is thy holy will, to reclaim my See of Troll's Bane, that I may in that city of lusts, perversions and great wickedness do your work, for which I pray thou shalt one day let me enter into your blessedness."
Opening his eyes, the elderly Expleti sees someone coming, with the aid of his staff he arises, meeting the first of this island inhabitants for some time.

As you follow the road across the Union to Troll´s Bane and enter the town you can see two men disputing against each other.
The one, dressed in a black priest robe, stands next to an altar stained with blood and some stuff on it and the other man, dressed in a white priest robe, holds his chaplet in his hand and shakes his head.
"Ask yourself if your soul will be worthy enough when you will stand in front of the gods. The time of the relevations will initiate. Make use of this time now for repent and the divine path before this time will come. Maybe the gods will forgive you and your heretical actings when you will take it serious. "
The man in the white priest robe walks off, mumbling a little prayer, to the east gate of Troll´s Bane.
Among the people who has accumulated because of this scene the priest, he could only be a priest, didn´t noticed you.
The way directs him to the east.

Seeing a fellow labourer in the field of the gods the Expleti smiles, and makes foward to follow the person. Catching sight of the altar as he passes he bends over slightly, as if likely to vomit, but then recovering from this he intones quietly a quick prayer to Eldan. If you listen closely you may hear various peculiar phrases from the oration: "Vile blood-cults..." "Sickening infidels of the lowest calibre ..." Ceasing his prayer, he looks about himself, and calls to the white-robed priest as the cleric is leaving the gate.
"You there, master priest, cease your steps - tell me to whom this abomination is dedicated. What god indeed would call for such sickness?"
He gestures the priest to come closer with his staff, but sadly it seems he was not heard, as the priest in question does not respond. He turns then to the black robed priest and addresses him sternly.
"Foul servant of basest things, does this shrine of darkness belong to you? Tell me to which god you have dedicated this, that I may cast that name down and re-sanctify this town which indeed is my own! Know that you have no right to place your altar where the gods have placed my See."