Casrian tucks his waterskin (now warm with coffee) into his leather vest and sidles up to Chak. He eyes his companion.

"Is this your first time in the North? I confess, I am not altogether familiar with your folk."

After Chak responds, Casrian looks for Anon, but they appear to have already left the establishment without the rest. William appears occupied at the moment, but Casrian goes to him and says, "Chak and I are going to have a look around; catch up when your ready, yeah?" 

He then looks to Chak. "Well, it may just be us for the moment. Shall we have a look around?" 

So saying, the rogue opens the door and steps out into the cold air.

"Yes my homeland is nothing like this. The changes in hot and cold have been difficult to understand." Chak responds, seeming to find it strange to hear his words vocalized outside of the strange clicking and clacking of his own native language. He nods at the idea of investigating, moving to push the door open and step outside.

William just follows the two blinking “Aye, I’m coming as well.” He says grabbing a slice of bread and some meat.

The entire party received the breakfast they request and eat it. In the process, however, the party finds Anon missing from the inn and can only assume that they started their day ahead of them or have deserted the endeavor. Moving outside they find fresh powder on the ground, the rooves blanketed with snow, and a line of people trying to dip water from a communal well that seem to be having some faulty. Moving through the town the passive perception is everyone is weary. You can not tell the root cause however either the weather or personal strife but grief seems to permeate the entire town in some way or another! Finding the temple of Pelor the party can hear the smithy which Bazz runs before they even look to the right and see it! A large smithy with a roaring furnace with two workers, an earth genasi, and a brown-furred hobgoblin with leather aprons are both working on something red hot before them atop an anvil. They do not stop as the party enters the smithy.

Going into the shop area the party sees an array of simple tools. Nothing is elaborate or fancy but each weapon or tool has been made with superior quality and expert hands. Thye finds Bazzura at the back of the smithy shop seated on a stool and fletching an arrow with a black feather that has iridescent shades of purple throughout.

"Good morning," Bazz says brightly as they set their work aside. "Any new conclusions or questions now that you've had a night's rest as well as a hearty breakfast," the cat man asks with a smile. "Wait....wasn't there another one of you..." he asks counting the group with a puzzled look in his face.

"The horned and tailed one was not in the inn this morning. We do not know what became of them." Chak tells the tabaxi as he crosses both sets of arms, looking around to inspect the weapons that have been forged in the smithy. "The three of us will continue to investigate without the horned one if need be."

"Well, I figured  there might be a runner or two," Bazz nods and sighs. "I'm doing a friend from Westruun a favor and recieved a message late last night about another...well. I'll let them talk. Wiri if you'd like to join us," the tabaxi calls out towards a closed door in the shop that opens soon after as a half-drow steps out into the shop.

OOC: WilliamOThewisps go for it!

A ripple of darkness pushes through the door. Dressed in a black robe embellished with raven feathers and trimmed in dull, purple scales, a young woman steps into view. The dark gray skin tone seems brighter than it should, sandwiched as it is between her midnight robes and long black hair, the tips of which shine dark purple. She glances at them each in turn, fixing them with one red and one green eye.

“My name is Wiri,” the girl says in a dry voice. “I study and produce poisons and antidotes, and I can offer some magical support, mostly of the destructive variety. I specialize in mind magic and burning thin . . .”

A high-pitched, snorty laugh breaks out somewhere near the tabaxi, interrupting Wiri. The warlock closes her exasperated eyes and snaps her fingers. Suddenly, two clawed, red feet and a long, spiked scorpion’s tail appear, sticking out of someone’s backpack. As she grabs the diminutive creature by the tail, a tiny, muffled voice comes out of the bag.

“Hey! What’s goin’ on out there?” He sounds angry. “Hey! Leave me alone, leave me alone! I’m not doing nothing! Just wanted a snack, that's all! Not harming!"

“This is Mephisto,” the drow half-elf’s voice remains measured, “and he’s going to be a good little imp while he’s around you all. Because if he’s not, he’s going into the pocket.”

She extracts the creature from the bag. Hanging upside down from her outstretched hand is what looks like a tiny red devil with bat wings. It dangles, looking around at everyone in the group. Flashing a rogue-ish smile, the imp blows a raspberry at the group. As Wiri turns the creature to look at her, a rectangular box appears next to it in midair. A look at the box reveals strange pink grass and plants, and a flash of white fur. One glance at the box and Mephisto freezes. The box disappears and the drow drops the imp, and he immediately disappears again, the diminishing volume of his laugh suggesting that he’s left the room.

“My apologies,” she sighs again. “We’re stuck together, unfortunately, so he’s along for the ride. He’s mostly under my control. He will not harm you, but if he tries to cause any mischief, please let me know and I’ll deal with it.”

"Welcome Wiri, " Bazz nods, "and Mephisto," he adds with a wry smile at the imp! "I think we discussed visiting the temple of Pelor and trying to speak to the survivor," he asks the party. 

OOC: WilliamOThewisps I will assume you read the previous posts and it'll be more or less Bazz getting Wiri up to speed. We'll say your PC arrived in the middle of the night, slept, and went to Bazzura's shop first thing. 

Chak nods, his mandibles clicking as he examines the imp as if he was looking to eat the devil as a snack if the need arises. "Yes talking with the survivor is a good first step. Lead the way if you would."

William just remains in the back as the half-drow and imp show up. He just nods his head giving a small chuckle at the interaction “Does your little friend mind staying behind, doubt a temple would appreciate a devil showing up.”

"I agree, speaking with a survivor and potential witness is a top priority," Wiri matter-of-factly states. She pulls the glove off of her left hand--removed by her already gloveless right hand--revealing gaunt fingers that close into a pale fist. As she stretches her fingers out again, she reveals the crystal embedded into her palm: a black ring of stone filled with red and green streaks. The flat stone comprises the majority of her palm, and shimmers with a ghostly light. "The human is right, Mephisto. You shouldn't be seen in the temple. Perhaps you can look around the town for anything suspicious? Or you can serve as our watchman outside the church."

A chortle echoes through the air, though there is no Mephisto to be seen. "Ha! I'll look around, and I won't be seen. I'll sneak and I'll hide, and I might be obscene." Making an audible wooshing noise with his mouth, the imp settles himself inside Wiri's bag.

"He'll be fine, he's under my control. Mostly." She smacks her bag with the back of her hand and mutters to the imp, "Stop rhyming, it drives me nuts. You're an annoying tagalong, not a witty sidekick." 

Will just chuckles a little bit as he just gives a smirk at the imp "I don't know it's kind of entertaining and might be worth sustaining. Though pertaining to the act of sneaking, just don't get caught peeping. I hope you find nothing benign and bring it back in reasonable time."

He just looks around then at the half-drow "Names Will, though human is a fair description as well." he says just holding out his hand.

"Wiri I doubt acolyte or priests of Pelor would begrudge a caster of their familiar regardless of their...shall we say nefarious origins.  The Dawn Matron, head of the temple here, is actually a tiefling," Bazz explains taking the lead as the party leaves the warmth of the forge to cross the plaza towards the temple.

The party's boots or footwear crunches atop the fresh fallen snow as a stiff wind presses in on them stealing their breath with it's fridged temperature! Bazz pulls his hood tighter around his face trying to stop the cold as they party walks into the entrance to the temple, a stone room of sort that blocks them from most of the elements as well as shields the tall oak doors of the temple. 

"Only other structure besides the Lodge that's mostly gray stone from the lakebed," Bazz shares a bit of trivia with the party. "So, who's our spokesperson? As I said not much in the way of influence here as a simple local fletcher," he reminds the party in a lowered tone of voice.

Bazz waits expectantly to let the party deliberate!

"I would not be the wise choice as talking to others. Those not of the hive are unsettled by my appearance." Chak says as he looks tothe others, tilting his head.

A messenger approaches the party but stops at Carsian. The messenger hands a scroll to the rogue who takes it from the messenger. They then withdraw and Carsian takes a brief moment to read it.

"Apologies comrades," Carsian begins. "I must leave.  I...I wish you y'all success," the rogue apologizes before darting off into the thin crowd in the wintery streets. 

Bazzura sighs loudly watching Carsian disappear before turning into the temple doors. 

"We will decide inside," Bazz says to those of the party who remains.

Entering the temple of Pelor the party finds a brilliant display of light and warmth. The party is only in the temple for a moment before approached by an acolyte dressed in white robes decorated with gold.

"Hail all and well met. May his light shine upon you," the human woman says with a soft smile. "How can I be of help," she asks looking at the party. 

“Nice to meet you, Will,” Wiri clasps his hand for a moment, following Bazz to the temple. “What brings you along on this little journey?”

The half-elf shudders and recoils a bit at the brightness inside of the building. Being only half drow, she escaped the curse of many of her kind—to shun the light of day. Regardless, something deep inside of her psyche still causes her to react to bright and unexpected light. After letting her eyes adjust, she quickly responds to the acolyte.

“We’ve come with some questions for the Lodge’s survivor . . . If you could lead us to him, it would be very much appreciated.”

Wiri’s smile seems genuine enough, though not necessarily in line with her dry request to see the survivor. Something inside of her pack squirms a little bit.

“And we’ll take any extra food off your hands, too,” came Mephisto’s voice, very unconvincingly attempting to mimic the drow’s.

The warlock smiles a bit wider and readjusts her stance, driving an elbow back into the bag surreptitiously. With a sharp “oof,” the bag’s flap flutters open, and an invisible Mephisto lands on the ground a short distance from the party.

Chak moves to follow into the building, looking around with curiosity as his people did not have deities in the same way most did. He pauses to examine various things such as tapestries or other depictions of the ways the clergy would serve Pelor.

"So they serve this Pelor in exchange for the power to cast magic? Those of the hive gifted with magic have it from the time they begin to walk the land."

"You will need to speak to the high priest for that request," the young woman explains to Wiri looking over the party curiously but stepping back into the temple allowing the party to enter. "Food can be provided, " she adds giving Wiri an odd look as if trying not to chuckle at Mephisto's mimicry!

The acolyte of Pelor then looks at Chak with a curious expression as he speaks through the amulet. 

"I...I serve Pelor because I believe in his message and seek to help others," the young human woman replies. "You are a curious....where are you from," she asks the insectoid with hands disappearing into the sleeves of her robes looking very young indeed as she looks expectantly awaiting Chak's answer.

Bazz is uncharacteristically quiet.  The rogue has his hood up and lingers at the back of the party.

After the acolyte finishes speaking to Chak, Wiri turns again to the follower of Pelor. "Perhaps we could speak with the high priest?" 

As the grown-ups speak, Mephisto begins wandering through the temple, trying to follow his nose to a snack. He remains invisible, but doesn't shy away from poking things--like a few sacks sitting on the floor. After potentially "accidentally" poking a hole in one of the bags, he starts looking at the people and their belongings, attempting to determine if they've got any food on them. He scours as much of the space as he can, pausing every now and then to sniff or cock his head to try to get a better view. Eventually tiring from his search, he begins to head back to his mistress planning to place himself into her backpack again. He blows a little raspberry as he nears the group.

As he approaches the group, he hears his mistress saying, "Actually, perhaps you could tell us what you think of this survivor? Have you spoken with them? What are your thoughts? Also, I don't believe I caught your name? I'm Wirilome, pleasure to meet you."

"Branwyn Pryor," the the young human acolyte says smiling at Wiri.

Mephisto comes face to face with an winged cat that hisses loudly as a man kneeling hushes the cat looking curiously at where the imp is skulking.

"Eira hushes," the man says to the tressym now circling Mephisto!

"No, I just take care of the temple here and daily visitors," Branwyn explains as the party moves into the temple. "The high priest is...particularly protective of the cleric who survived being a former acolyte on the temple," she adds. "I can tell her your here. I...I cant help you beyond that. I didn't know the cleric personally however they left before I joined the temple from Stillben," she finishes.