If there is no room for redemption.... then I am not the Avatar of the Sun. Olamoira had stood stoically, her small dark form clothed in undyed wool, head tilted back slightly, as if waiting in reverent prayer for the outcome of Luvash's request... not a doubt crosses her dark eyes after the thunder of her voice fades. But, as Beren gives his speech to spare the two men, as if unbidden, at these words of Beren's, she sinks to her knees at his side, her gaze fixed on the implacable armor hiding his glowing face. I was the first recipient of his mercy. How my heart rejoices that I was not the last! Rapt, she kneels there, tears streaming down her face, as if caught in another heavenly vision that removes her, if only briefly, from the world around her.

She gets back to her feet after a minute, though, hoping that he was too focused on other things to become disturbed by her actions. As Arabelle comes to embrace him, she feels a twinge of relief that she, at least, isn't the one making him uncomfortable at the moment. More fully do I deserve his ire than the child. But something else disturbs Beren. He is not only the bearer of the celestial light, he is a man with his own torments and darkness. Ah! May he shine the light not only to myself, and these two condemned, but to himself as well!

"May we attain the heavenly kingdom, if death is our fate," she says to Arabelle, as the girl departs. I wonder what blackapple pie tastes like. Apples don't grow underground... not even black ones.

Smiling, Ola places her hand on Beren's cloak as he rises from one knee and turns to his companion. Not on his arm or shoulder, but on his vestment. It's already a strange gesture, turned just enough from the ordinary and companionable gesture of support that her expression seems to indicate she is making, but she makes it stranger by placing her hand afterwards in a religious gesture across her chin and breast. "Thank you for your mercy," she says to him. And to Nivi, "Church, then."

(I shall be posting in the morning. I hope you all enjoyed your labor day weekend!)

(And of course the alarms never went off thanks to a power outage .. i woke up far too late. I shall sacrifice some sleep tonight to make sure that you all have a post by tomorrow. Sorry again. On average it takes me 3ish hours to make a post, and i woke up with less than 1)

The crowd whispers and the ravens softly caw, a whispered chorus of curiosity as they watched the young Arabelle hug the Avatar, and though hesitant, it is returned. Those that couldn't immediately see moved to be able to until the crowd was mostly on one side, some still eating their fried fish as though they were watching a play, but all eyes were on Beren. Every member of the crowd, Bard and Ravens included. Urwin likely as well though he was harder to see now that the crowd had coalesced into a crescent moon around the party.

When the hug ended and the sword was passed most in the crowd looked confused, and some of their expressions were readable as 'what the hell is a hilt gonna do!?' but none there seemed to know or be aware of any significance aside from Luvash himself. Though whether that meant he was lying or that they were ignorant was anyone's guess.

Arabelle weakly nodded before taking her leave to join her fathers side. Luvash himself resuming the festivities and continuing to talk like he had but more generally. Talking about how the sun will shine on Barovia again, soon. And other platitudes. That once more met with mixed but still mostly positive reception. The crowd itself staying but dispersing enough not to be a human wall.

At Jacks quips and prompts Arugal, then Bluto look at him with similar but distinctly differing in levels of annoyed acceptance of the words. Bluto seemed more depressed about it, while Arugal was rather frustrated, like a man who felt his punishment was unfair but knew there was nothing he could do to change it. Bluto shrank back whiel arugal spoke in a manly, gruff voice in response Aye, we know. No need to remind us elf. Our heads would already be gone if not for the Avatars Mercy. Besides, I'm not as worried as Bluto should be. Vistani pass through Strahd's realm with his blessing. So usually we are left alone by ..most things here. I'll pull my weight and earn back my place within the camp in time. Just don't you dare use me to find out of something is safe like some 'magical sigil detector' I ****ed up, aye, but I didn't try to kill the girl.

Bluto however looked up, finally at Jacks words and shook his head, sniveling. I just wanted some ale and food! I'm 'ungry! I'm always bloody 'ungry! but I 'ave no skills but fishin, and they weren't bitin! So I did like you said Neebi. at which point, Arugal punched the man in the face, leaving it bloody as he fell onto his ass - since their bindings had been loosed earlier and then removed. Some in the crowd paying attention laughed at Bluto's misfortune as the man began to cry and snivel, blubbering about how it was unfair and uncalled for. Shut up, fool. Arugal spat with venom.

Luvash had began to leave, with the main portion of the festival over, only for Jack to run up to him, asking his questions. For a moment Luvash would rub his chin as Arabelle stood their politely, but unsteadily. That sounds like the Wachters.... You may have seen their manse on the way to the inn ... its a dilapidated thing now, they think they have a claim on the town because they used to be nobility. But they're the only ones here who would fit that desciption. Even the well off merchants .... well there's only so much gold in Barovia with it being disconnected as it is. I don't know if she has any fondness for Strahd however. he said picking up on the last hint. But atleast within Vallaki, that's the only person I can think of aside from the Burgomaster and well, I aint got tits. he said with a laugh, patting Jacks shoulder hard once before bowing and taking his leave, clearly wanting to get his daughter back to a bed before she collapsed of exhaustion.

A bit before Luvash had left, and Nivi began talking to him, he gave her a curious glance with a smirk. You can never please everyone Nivi. You can only try to make the best out of things. Besides, I'm not afraid of a few civilians if the half of them try to come for me. But I'll keep a few extra guards near Arabelle.... just in case they don't try to strike me directly. Besides... if you all succeed, then there's nothing to be 'on to.' he said, giving her a wink of confidence. 

Back with the current timeframe, with Jack gone to pester the man once more with his questions, Nivi's attention turns to the new 'friends' they had acquired. Bluto himself, nose still bleeding down his face looks at Nivi with confusion initially, in a 'what the hell is she talking about' manner, though as her words ultimately end in a threat, the man shrinks down, like a dog tucking it's tail in, clearly not happy with the situation even though his life had been spared. Arugal however simply Grunts before speaking as he pats his sides. I've no blades to weild elf. They were taken from me. So unless you plan for me to fight with my fists like a drunkard in a bar you'll have to find me some, whether you get em from "Lu-Lu" or otherwise. I'm fine with daggers or swords. Aint shit with a bow. As i said, I'll pull my weight just don't tell me to face a werewolf alone, or some gobshite like that.

Arugal stood up but made no moves to leave. He simply moved in closer to the party No idea what you want with the church though, but if we're going... he said in a tone indicating he'd much rather get this 'gobshite' started. He clearly had a 'sooner than later' mentality. And a permanent scowl. Soon after - the Ravens flew off, in varying directions. Some back to the inn, others elsewhere.

With that all done, Jack still in the square as his conversation with Luvash continues, the rest of the party makes their way to the church, with Arugal guiding them on the fastest way there, and Arugal also forcing the blubbering Bluto to move. By the way which one of us is Ruby? is all he asks on the way there. He seems to be bothered by the fact his 'nickname' could be so floaty.

But eventually the church comes into view, the crowd left behind, and only the few soulless that seemed to wander town with all the enthusiasm of a manic depressive. They watched as you all went by but seemed apathetic at best. The few that were moving about seemed busy with tasks but making even simple things such as sweeping seem like an oppression, barely moving as they did.

As before -This slouching, centuries-old stone church has a bulging steeple in the back and walls lined with cracked, stained glass windows depicting pious saints. A fence of wrought iron encloses a garden of gravestones next to the church. A thin mist creeps among the graves. This time you all get a closer look and see the signage reading: St. Andrals Church. And unlike before, you see a teen outside, sweeping along the porch, getting the dust and dirt off of it, and seeming quite angry.

"Very true! Or at the very least, I'm certainly not going to go out of my way to 'investigate' some illusions being underfoot there." Jack said, chuckling a bit towards the end. After briefly side-eyeing Arabelle, his demeanor shifts from amused to almost apologetic as he says, "Either way, I shan't keep you two longer, as apparently me and my fellows may have to visit this Wachter woman -- no, 'Lady' Watcher a visit before long." At that last nugget, which he'd either said with a hint of derision or off-handed matter-of-factness depending on his passive read on Luvash's feelings in regards to the former noblewoman(and in which case, he'd opt for whichever might be taken favorably or neutrally by Luvash), the Eladrin bid the duo an elegant bow goodbye before parting ways with them.

For a brief moment as he'd look to where he expected the party to have taken to the church, Jack entertained the thought of turning into some majestic steed to catch up to them, having momentarily felt a flicker of the same dark feelings grip his chest in their absence. The same feeling if not similar to the one felt in his morning meditation. But after standing there gripping the front of his poncho just over his heart, Jack took a few deep breathes to steady his nerves, before nodding inwardly and whispering, "Winter has no place in here yet, storyteller. Not yet." Then he's back to smiling warmly at just about everything without a seeming care in the world as he turned to scan the crowd for the half-elf bard.

Once he spies him again, Jack makes a casual bee-line for the fellow, stopping only only briefly long enough to purchase a couple of skewers or their closest equivalent from a nearby stall before continuing his approach of the bard. Truthfully after that, if the bard was still spinning a yarn or performing for the crowd, Jack can't help but lose himself to the story and forget almost any original forethought for the encounter. But if within the next hour he sees a chance to flag the bard down or approach the man while he's in between sets, then Jack is sure to do so and greet the man. "Either you are quite talented in spinning extraordinary stories, or I've been terribly mistaken about about the new realm me and my fellows found ourselves in!  As you are the first I've heard in this realm to have spun honey into golden works of art with those tales of yours! Regardless of which, well done, my friend!" Jack feigns being startled at his own last words, before with a sheepish grin continuing. "Forgive me. What I should be saying is might I call you friend? You in turn may call me Jack, or Jack the curious." 

Nivi casually tosses Arugal a dagger (removed 1 of 2 daggers from her inventory), watching to judge the man's reflexes to catch it at the hilt as it spins slowly through the air.  "You're Ruby, he's Bubbles," she quips as if stating the obvious.  "Already told you once, crew that works together, fights together.  No slaves or werewolf fodder here.  You do for us like we do for you.  Partners, far as I'm concerned.  As for you, Bubbles..."

Nivi turns and tilts her head towards the drunkard, face expressionless.  "Beren here may not have taken your head, but you're staying as sober as if he had.  Food, we'll share, but no drink or dagger for you til you get it through your skull it wasn't me that told you to drown that girl.  Strange land, this.  Things aren't what they appear.  Might have been Strahd or one of his lackeys taking my form to stir the pot, just like I took Arabelle's form for a time last night.  But hear me for the last time, Bubbles.  When I want someone dead, I need no drunken catspaw.  I do it myself."

She grimaces as she sees the soulless, but says nothing.  Then, nearing St. Andral's, observes again the mist that seems unable to approach the church itself.  Mist like Strahd's fog from last night.  Something in this place protects against it...  Nivi hesitates and wonders if she is overthinking it.

Approaching the irate youth by the church's entrance, she summons her invisible Mage Hand and begins to help him as she walks up.  Either by using it to grab another broom or dustpan if available, or by just manually wiping dirt from an area the teen hasn't reached yet.

Making eye contact if she can, Nivi gives the young man a nod of acknowledgement, trying to discern why he's upset.

Nivi Insight:  24

"Job's got you down?  Needs doing anyway.  Always does.  Or you mad at someone in particular?   Head priest maybe?  I'd like to talk to them.  We good to come in, yeah?  My name's Nivi and this is Shiv the owl on my shoulder.  My other friends here are Beren and Olamoira.  Or address 'em as the Avatar of the Sun and his Prophet if you're into the whole formality thing.  Your call."

DM Rolls: 19 - 5

 With Jack, as the conversation ends, Luvash responds with a polite but hurried nod. As if once his part in the festival was over his only concern became getting his daughter somewhere safe, comfortable, and with plenty of warm food and water. He did linger to watch where Jack went, and when Jacks back was turned, he offered a parting wave of farewell before taking Arabelle's hand and leading her through town in the general direction of his own home, or rather, the Burgomasters home.

Jack himself hadn't been able to get a read on Luvash this time. Either he had no opinion on the woman, or he was keeping it close to his chest. The half-elf seemed to have finished with his storytelling, whether his tales were true or not, as he had began to partake of the offered food and drink. He was in the middle of tearing out a chunk of fried fish fillet from a skewer, and washing it down with a mug of ale when Jack first spoke. And it had been only minutes after the rest of the party had left them to their devices. The bards brow rose in surprise, in the fashion of one receiving unexpected, yet not unwelcome guests. Quickly he finished his draught and capped it with a loud, satisfied 'ah..' breathing in and shifting to a more comfortable position. Well my friend, ev'ry one of my tales is true, stay here long, and you'll see it too!  he said in response to the first before allowing the eladrin to continue.

At mention of being the only one to spin a honeyed yarn he looks perplexed but doesn't interrupt. As Jacks play reaches its end the bard can only clap if a bit stifled by his confusion. From what tales I heard there was a bard among your group before you came to town, and that he was now staying at the Burgomasters expense? Or was this simply rumor? he says, genuinely curious. 

You may call me whatever you deem fit though maestro. In this land it matters little, unless you have power, you are doomed to die in the end. But if you wish, I shall address you as Jack. And you may address me as Rictavio. or Riktavio of the mythical yarn. Whatever is your preference. So to what do I owe the honor of one of Arabelles Saviours? he asks.

(Please roll an insight check Jack)

(Will wait on other responses for the church)

Beren tilts his mask towards Olamoira, giving little outward reaction to her action aside from a slight nod. He is glad that his companions don't mind his decision, but part of him doubts whether or not he made the right choice. These two could very well be more of a burden than they are worth, and his mercy could very well bring them worse pain than death ever could. Regardless, he doesn't trust either of these men, and intends to keep a close eye on them until they can prove themselves. 

He listens silently as Argual responds to Jack's words... absently wondering if he's going to have to keep up this Avatar ploy around the two of them if only to keep them loyal. ...no, not worth it. Better to just ignore the title as best he can and maybe they'll forget about it eventually. Still standing in silence, he watches the exchange between Argual and Bluto, mask moving slowly to watch as the sailor snivels and whines in the mud. Perhaps the right thing to do would have been to stop Argual, but at the moment he doesn't have much more mercy to give. If the drunkard still believes what he did was right then he deserves to be down in the dirt with whatever bruises come from it.

Once Argual has said his piece, Beren steps closer to Bluto and grabs the man by the scruff of the neck, forcing him to his feet as Nivi begins speaking as well. He nods approvingly at her words-- Bluto would have no use for weapons yet, but if Argual can make himself useful and he is willing to fight alongside them then giving him a dagger should be fine. 

"As I said before, I don't expect you to put your life on the line for the rest of us," Beren says, mask fixed on Argual. "As Nivi said, none of our team will face anything alone. And as I said before, as part of this team you are under my protection." Whether that comes as a comfort for the two or not, Beren couldn't care less. "As for you," he grips Bluto's shirt, tightening the fabric around his neck, "You'd better get it through your head that sacrificing children, or any person, for your own selfish gain is never acceptable. Never. I don't care how hungry you are." His words come out as a near growl, "And as Nivi said, she wasn't the one who told you to do it. Maybe you'd better consider who actually gave you that disgusting idea." He forcefully released him, pushing him forward slightly before letting Argual take over directing the drunkard, "I'll see to it that you are fed, but only if you actually earn it. If that doesn't satisfy you, then perhaps you would like to offer your own life as a sacrifice so that we can have your share of food for ourselves." 

Now rather irritated with the sailor, Beren reaches out with his Divine Sense just to see where this man's heart truly lies. Really, he should have done that before offering to take them in, but he'd been too busy trying to figure a way out of just killing him. (doing an alignment check on Bluto, and I guess he'll find out about Argual as well but I'll deal with that later lol.) 

Beren positions himself at the back of the group, mostly to keep an eye on the two ahead of him--at least Argual seems to have accepted his lot regardless of how unfair it may be. He almost feels guilty for getting the man involved--maybe he should have considered a different sentence for him and just taken Bluto. But that is in the past, and it wouldn't look good for anyone if he changed his mind. Perhaps after some time has passed he can say that Argual's dues have been paid and allow him to go his own way. Or if there is a different town he could move to... but that is an issue for the future. 

He hangs back slightly as the approach the church, feeling an irritating reluctance to go near it. In spite of its dilapidated appearance, it still holds an annoying familiarity that he can only relate to negative experiences. Shaking his head, he turns his attention to the teen as Nivi approaches. Better to let her do the talking anyways, he's about expended his desire to speak after everything he said on the stage... curse Luvash and his bloody schemes. He'd said he wouldn't have to speak, but then put him in a position where he'd either have to behead the two and leave or speak up to decide for himself. 

The light flashes when Nivi suggests that the boy call him Avatar of the Sun, but he forces it to calm down. If he wants to reap whatever benefits come with the blasted title he has to use it. He grits his teeth for a moment, but stays silent as he waits for a response to Nivi's questions. What are they doing at the church anyways? 

Jack the Insightful: 16

"Well for starters in answer to your first questions dear Rictavio, I will confess to the rumor being quite true! For the moment at least, my compatriot travels a different road even if it appears not to be much of a road at all. But o' do I hope that our paths intertwine once more, as his company was one that I grew quite found of during my latest journey." Jack more than freely admits before wiping a single tear from an eye. "But so long as he's safe, that knowledge will have to do... speaking of knowledge and safety, this brings me to in part why approached you!" He says in a more upbeat voice.

"If your tales are as true you say, mayhap you know much of this world that others might be reluctant or less eager to share? We've been told in generalities about a few on the way, this is true, but if you have a tale about more pressing threats a wanderer should keep an eye out for and how best to overcome them if running proves less than tenable, that would be appreciated for starters! Or barring that, do you know anything of other settlements besides Vallaki here?" 

Olamoira watches the exchange between Argual and Bluto, and Nivi and Beren each welcoming them into the party in their own way. She finds herself studying Bluto more closely. He has offended everyone, and continues to do so. But I think he is not living in the same reality that we are. He does not mean to be offensive. Doubtless such as he find no way to survive but by being manipulative, pleading innocence, not understanding what goes on around them, nor even what others think of them. Such simpering fools were of no use to society but we did not sacrifice such as these, not often, it was a greater sacrifice of cruelty to leave them exposed to the fury of those who had to deal with them. She remembers the revelation about the Soulless but still doesn't quite know what to think about it. There is a deeper curse here.

She whispers to Beren as the party leaves, "Anything may happen in the remaining space of a life spared, and for a purpose... you have done your part... the rest will be arranged by Divine will. These two may yet find redemption, and you have given them the chance." She tries not to show it on her face, but she is also thinking, I may yet find it too, and you gave me the chance. As the party travels, she walks companionably at his side, as requested, hanging perhaps a little behind, as if unable to quite put herself on equal footing with him.

As the group approaches the church, with the mist curling reflexively away from it, Ola's eyes are drawn to the stained glass images of saints that line the church's stone walls, and the old signage. St. Andral. Olamoira tries to recall any stories of the saints that the Ilmatari taught her, to see if she recognizes anyone on the windows, or if she knows who St. Andral is.

Religion: 16 (rolled in game log)

11

Back before the church:

When Beren had taken the fisherman by the scruff and began berating him, he had brought his hands up defensively, though ultimately no strike came. His sniveling had only gotten worse during the verbal beating but no words came out. All the man could do was nod his head like a cowtowing coward before Arugal had taken over. Berens senses washing over the pair, and unintentionally getting some of the crowd as well. Around him, he felt apathy and neutrality for the most part. A few of the people were less-than-good, but likely not worse than a fruit-stall theif in comparison to worse crimes. Luvash himself who was just at the edge of the sense was a neutral evil, not that that likely came as a surprise to Beren. Arabelle was true neutral, leaning good. 

Bluto himself was also a true neutral but leaning slightly towards bad. Arugal was, much like Luvash, Neutral evil.

As Nivi tosses Arugal the dagger, perhaps because his bindings had been tight, or the beating he had been subjected to the night before, he misses it entirely, sighing with exasperation as he fails to catch it, leaning down to grab the dagger, before slipping it nakedly in his belt. I appreciate it. i'm used to fighting with two but this is better than none. he says in monotones. 

(Wanted to atleast address that!)

 Moira, obediently follows beside Beren as they approach the church, likely seeing the boy as well but clearly more interested in the church itself. Studying the imagery, the name, and architecture. It was centuries old at least and as she searched her memories she is hit with a wave of irony. The illmatari had studies on many patrons, but this one was known to her in her studies when she was still beneath the bowels of the earth, still doing what she had done... it was faint. A bare memory of a foe of the dark elves. Twofold in such. The man named Saint Andral was a terrifying for of the dark elves, as he was a servant of Lathander, the Morninglord. He was a war preist who had felled hundreds of dark elves alone during one of their many attempts in the past to overtake the surface world, or atleast various towns. Bringing blinding light forth and smiting them with bolts of energy before crushing their skulls with his mace. That was .. until one day nearly a millennia past he joined a war against the undead, and suddenly disappeared never to be seen, or heard from again.

The dark elves claimed that one of their assassins had caught him unawares, but the truth was never for certain.

Nivi speaking to the boy, catches his attention, and he gives her a derisive but not hostile look. Maintaining eye contact for an awkwardly long time as he half-continues his task. Caught off guard as a broom seemingly begins to move on its own and his guard raises, atleast briefly, lifting the broom as a half-hearted weapon. However as Nivi continues speaking and none of those gathered seem to be harming him, and especially at the mention of the Avatar of the sun... his guard drops slightly.

Nivi can easily tell his troubles are out of worry, rather than anger, not that it takes long for the youth to speak what Nivi was already piecing together.

The job isn't the problem ma'am. Its this place. This whole region. This accursed land... he spits, his tone tinged with an edge of anger, and futility. His eyes locked to the fiery elf. I just want to keep my siblings safe, but the Burgomaster just spouts 'oh, everything will be okay!' he says, hands shooting into the air in mockery of the statement. However, all he does is have us huddle in the walls. Saying we're safe. Oh sure, maybe from the most common undead! but a spirit can go through the wall. And some can climb or even fly over them! not that it's happened but one day I know it will, and then my brother and sister will..  he trails off, growling. And I'm too weak to do anything about it... he admits... Even if you stood there and let me hit you as hard as I could with this broom, you would probably complain that it only itched! he says sighing aloud as he realizes then that he went on a anting exposition.. and ignored her other words...

I.. I'm sorry. The father will not listen, he only tries to comfort, but doesn't provide any solutions. He just says it is safe within the church to all who will listen. Yet this mist... he says looking at what the group already saw... It has never been here before. And I have a bad feeling, yet.. I've nowhere else to go... he says, shoulders slumping. But to answer your questions.. yes you can go in, there is no propriety. All are welcome within St. Andrals halls. My name is Millijov. And my sister Natasha, and brother Ardbert are within. 

And.. I suppose it is nice to meet you all. Though I only pity your fate... all are trapped within these lands.

Beren feels a familiar pulse cross his consciousness, a familiar touch of magic from within from someone he had not seen since coming here, and from the other side, a knowing smile. Who or whatever this was, was within the church. Come inside... Beren.


Bluto continues his blubbering but it has gone quiet, as he wallows in self-pity, sniffling and trying not to look at anyone, and trying to look as pathetic as possible. Though as the boy berates the Burgomaster, Bluto can't help but say Yeah! da burgomeistro is a right arse 'e is! Deserves some bad luck! and the first sign of defiance as he raises his fist to hurrah his own words.

Arugal listens, and at first he seems bothered by the youths words but then calms down.... as if the situation he's in has changed his opinions slightly on a matter where he would normally lackey till the end. Ultimately crossing his arms and looking the boy over as he says You could be outside the walls boy. Would you and yours prefer that? It ain't perfect here - but stop whining when it could be worse. the Milli didn't reply, as he recognized Arugal as one of Luvash's men.

Back with Jack,... During the first half of what he was saying Rictavio was nodding along, as one would in polite conversation. As if taking mental note of all this. However when Jack begins probing on the dangers of this world, Ricky seems to clam up a bit. Rubbing his hands together as he waits politely for Jack to finish. Ah.. well there are many a foe in this land, yes. Most of them are undead! 'tis best to run whenever possible, yes! Uh, did you know if the undead claw you you become one of them! Best to avoid them. Then there's the hags! oh they're ugly as a rusty doorknob! and uh, can cast spells too! i.. err.. most of these experiences I tell them are of my time outside Barovia.. i was sucked in here like you all. And now find myself quite trapped.

So uh... anyways... he says changing the subject... Are you on Luvash's side? or do you find his hope to be false?

Beren stays silent as he realizes the alignment of the people around him. Sure, it shouldn't be a surprise seems how these people know nothing aside from watching out for themselves and the evil surrounding them. Though the knowledge will keep him wary of these two, he decides to say nothing. The others likely already have made similar conclusions, and perhaps it would be better to wait and see. Perhaps they can nudge at least one of them in the right direction. Or not. Does it really matter?

He notices Olamoira's attempts to stay on semi-even ground with him, and listens to her words. Divine will? He wasn't sure he really believed in the sort. At least, he isn't sure he can put his trust in it. Not in the divine he has had any experience with. Perhaps there is a worthy god out there, but he hasn't heard from any. Not wanting to spark any negative conversations, he simply gives her another nod and focuses instead on his own thoughts. Unconsciously, he grips the bladeless hilt. What sort of weapon is this if it came from a place of such darkness? He can only hope that it was once an instrument of light, or at least an evil he can use to fight the greater one. 

Lost in thoughts, the voice from the church comes as a surprise. So much so that he visibly stiffens, letting out a stifled sound as the tendrils of light from behind the mask widen for a moment as if in shock. Clenching his fists at his sides, he tilts his mask upward towards whatever windows are visible. He had already been hesitant to go inside the place, and now he was seriously considering walking away. Nivi and Olamoira didn't need him, he could make himself useful some other way. Perhaps by finding supplies for their upcoming journey. Yet what good would it do? It seems even here he hasn't found an escape. But that doesn't mean that he has to wander back to his handlers like a stray dog after finding its master. So what should he do? 

Now wrapped up in new thoughts, he doesn't even glance at Bluto when the idiot seemingly congratulates himself for his small attempt at defiance. It was the sort of thing he would have tried to stuff out earlier, but now he appears even more withdrawn than before. The light behind the mask burning angrily at nothing in sight. 

Jack mirrored Rictavio in politely listening to the man, but with one notable exception. Although a bit slight, a brow had risen at the turn of topics, and while fleeting, even a hint of amusement could be seen in the upward turn of the corner of his lips. If but for appearances sake however, Jack feigned thoughtfulness in looking askance and rubbing his chin for a bit before letting out a chuckle.

"No matter how much I turn it over in my head, you've asked a most fascinating question. And were circumstances but a touch different.... hmn... There's merit to the hope. But alas, so long as these lands dark landlord or his more ambitious servants are of a mind to intercede, it's hard to say how things will turn out beyond the grim or ghastly at some point. At least... not without right catalysts and a fair amount of good fortune." He said smiling. "As for who's side I'm on, you ask a most impossible question. For to be on anyone's side implies being aware of even a few players on the board! I don't suppose you could elaborate on that subject? Perhaps over a snack from one of these fine stalls?"

Nivi listens to Millijov's rant, and his late additions at the end with her head still tilted, appraising.  She pays no mind to Bluto's blubbering and listens only a little more to Arugal's sharp response, keeping her attention on the youth and the church he is cleaning.

"That right?  'All are welcome within St. Andral's halls.'  Good to know we're welcome, but not the whole truth, yeah?  That mist outside.  It wants in, but it's not welcome, is it?  Good thing, that.  Seen what that fog can do, and I know who it serves.  It's why I need to talk to the... Father."

All the while, Nivi's invisible Mage Hand continues assisting with the tidying of the porch.  But her real free hand taps a finger on her lips.  A subconscious habit she would shun vehemently if she realized how much it makes her resemble her mother or sister.

"Thing is, Millijov, I'm not much for gods or false hope myself.  Not sure if Beren is either, avatar or no, and something tells me these other two blokes are like me.  Prophet here's a different story.  But I'd have to be blind to ignore power and protection when I see it.  And so would you.  Worried about your bro and sis?  Judging by how that mist stays out, this church might be the safest place in the entire bloody land.  Have to respect that.  I know I do."

She steps up, ready to enter St. Andral's as Shiv turns his eyes to stare at the boy from her shoulder.  "The Father...  Inside?  He got a name?"

Will update tonight after work.

Long moments pass, the wind blows, disturbing the mist but not displacing it. And again, Beren feels that mental probe. Come inside Beren. Now. whether Beren would feel the compulsion or not only one could say, but the voice rang out in his mind, as clear as it had the night before the world had gone dark, and every time before that. Of course Beren knew he could respond the same way, without alerting his companions, but did he want to?

Millijov looked at the mist as if it had been the first time he'd seen it as Nivi mentions it, and he looks around the yard, filled with it, only tendrils bleeding outside the church yard, as though the situation was localized - though the fog and mist was effectively surrounding everyone at all times, it wasn't always immediately visible, lets ones vision be blocked entirely, like looking through a mesh against a window, the closer you are to it the easier it is to see, and the farther away the more vision is obscured. A tinge of fear began to creep into the youths expression. I.. I knew there was a bad omen, yet I did not realize it was this close... so wrapped up was I in thoughts... i. . . must have not noticed as the fog is always around..  panic beginning to fill his voice and his body starting to shake, realizing he had been out here.. in it for who knows how long or often... though as Nivi continues he faintly stutters out a Y-yes... as I said all are welcome within the halls.. a this point he had dropped the broom and began doing a panicked walk back inside while also tryign to hold propriety, leading into a stuttering backstep as he listened, replied, and retreated simultaneously, opening the doors to enter.

His name is f-father Lucien Petrovic... he should be j-just inside... protection or no it may be best to be inside... like you said. And then he vanished through the door, which he had left ajar... likely the middle point between his panicking wish to close it but trying to not shut the door in the guests faces. Blut seems to have taken notice of the mist not long aafter Nivi's revelation and the boys panicked reactions leading Bluto to sweat nervously.... Uh c-can we go inside or leave now? I don't want watever fate might befall me fer stayin' out like this... Arugal shrugs, as though this doesn't surprise him overmuch, though even he tenses up faintly. Whatever you're going to do we should get to- it was then that Nivi began to enter. Cutting off Arugals words, and dragging Bluto along makes his way into the church. (Sorry Nivi, i figured this would be what the boy would do considering so he entered prior to you looking over at him!)

Arugal following in Nivi's wake if she chose to enter, or otherwise waiting impatiently just outside for her to make up he mind.

Within the church...

was a short hallway leading to the main area, pew, benches and all, though the place was disheveled, as though a hurricane or time had passed through it and whether through lack of care or ability .. they simply weren't fixed. Millijov was visible, speaking to someone just out of sight who seemed to be below him. And talking to a woman who seemed distraught, was a man wearing dirty but priestly robes.

As Olamoira studies the church, she slowly begins to recall what she had known of St. Andral. Of course, they didn't call him a saint, in Lloth's temple. She struggles to remember what they did call him, how they viewed him. Even as an acolyte hearing the tales of his scourge on the drow, she felt calm, numb, detached. Secure in the superiority of the dark sacrifices of Lloth, of the complacency of the drow in their magic. Those on a path of righteousness were misguided, astray; poor, weak things, fit only to be offered to the Spider's Maw. Ola shudders at the memory of the trance she had lived in. And what a trance it was. Blood poured over my hands, keeping me transfixed...

Unwittingly, without thinking it through too much, she finds herself whispering a prayer to St. Andral. "Oh you who stood with your life against the drow, made your light bane to our darkness, it was the grace of the light you serve that set me, your servant, free, free of the darkness you purged. Free me from the darkness in my own heart, wipe my heart clean, wash me til I be whiter than snow, though my twilight can approach only the edge of your glory, let me serve the Light as you do, O Holy One..."

As Ola finishes her prayer, she suddenly becomes aware of a brilliant flaring up of Beren's light beside her. She looks over at him, the seething tension in his frame and the smoldering in the light behind his mask. For a moment she is confused. Is this place not a refuge of the Light he serves? What alarms him so? She studies him. He has made mention of rifts he felt with the power within him. Maybe he still battles darkness, as well. Moving slightly so that she is in Beren's line of vision, she speaks to him. "Beren, what's wrong?"

Beren suppresses a growl when the voice probes him again. He hates how she can just invade his mind without even asking, and then expect him to just go along with whatever she says as if he doesn't have a will of his own. But then again, perhaps he himself is to blame for that mentality. Even his attempts at escape, to leave behind the order were meager. Somehow he always ended up following their will, somehow they found him and he always convinced himself there was nothing he could do about it. Perhaps there really isn't. If even here in this cursed land she managed to find him again. And he thought he was free of this. 

It takes him a moment to realize that Olamoira is talking to him, and he seems to take another moment to focus on her. Nivi is already entering, so he will have to make up his mind quickly. Leave and delay the inevitable, or enter and allow the cleric to continue thinking of him as a hound. Either way, he really doesn't want to try explaining his situation to his companions. No, here he has a new purpose, a new goal. His goal. The Church has no control over him anymore. If he has to be the bloody Avatar of the Sun then he doesn't have to be their sword. He's chosen a new path, and he won't be pulled from it so easily. Yet what if this all somehow aligns with their plans for him? What if this was her plan all along? The thought brings a sinking feeling to his gut, and the light flickers for a moment. Then he shakes his head. No, he has to believe that he can make his own destiny, free from the clutches of fate. 

Finally addressing Olamoira he says, "Nothing. Let's go." His voice sounds a little strained, but it is clear that none of his anger is directed at her. Reluctantly, he starts walking towards the open door. To the voice in his head he says silently yet sternly, letting his anger seep in, "I am. But not because you asked me to. Now get out of my head." 

He follows Nivi, stalking forward until he passes through the door. Then he forces himself to be calm, and decides to keep pace with Olamoira--making it clear that he is here with his comrades, not to answer some silent call. He waits to see what Nivi does, remaining silent as he observes those inside the chapel. 

Nivi shakes her head in exasperation at Millivoj's sudden panic.  Like a green lookout man on an after dark job.  Yelling the call word even when the coast is clear.  "Cool it kid!  Bloody mist is everywhere. Got attacked by undead in the fog yesterday at the lakeshore.  Messed with Bubbles' mind something fierce.  Church here is the first place I've seen with a defense against it.  Good thing, yeah?  Don't get spooked by 'omens' and mess with that protection!"

Nevertheless, she follows the youth inside St. Andral's, then glances around in mild surprise at the disarray within.  She waits for the others to enter, then closes the door gently behind her carefully, as respectful as she would be when entering the domain of a Black Network captain back in Waterdeep.

She notices Olamoira and Beren then, the former concerned and the latter preoccupied.  Not knowing what to make of it, she shakes her head once more and focuses on drawing forth the Niva'ele Farstrider persona she keeps figuratively holstered at her belt.  Daughter of a high elven lord of Silverymoon.

She walks closer at a stately pace, her casual saunter gone, stopping and waiting far enough away from the conversations in progress to be respectful, yet close enough to observe the people involved.  Is Millivoj talking to his sibling(s)?  Is this Father Lucien Petrovic attempting to calm (or perhaps console) a distraught member of his flock?  She also looks around at the surrounding mess, and at the windows of the church, to determine if any are broken, and to inspect any images they depict.  Did something happen here?  Did Strahd send his lackeys here already, maybe to weaken the defenses?

Nivi Perception:  19 (if Insight needed, then it would be 17).