Corrin looks about warily. "Yes. Let's do."

"That... is not normal." Orilo shakes his head at the sight of the 'wolf' melting away. Seeing the others ready to leave, he gives the mutilated corpse at least one last once over to see if he can find anything identifying about the graveskeeper to take back with him. Soon after, the Aasimar falls in line behind the rest, cleaning the remaining gunk off his form. "So... Corrin. Win-ter?" He squints at the shifter, and then nods sagely to himself. "What did you discover on your excursion before?" 

"We found a doll," Corrin says, still shaking the scene from his head. "A doll that looks eerily like someone we know. A special commission that took some, um, convincing to get the shopkeeper to part with. Show him Winter."

"It might have been nice if you told me that before you told me to hold on to it." 

"Not the doll he's talking about. Where's Molly by the way?" Winter asks with a small smirk on her face, digging into her pack to pull out the doll that looked similar to Ireena. She hands it over to Orilio, letting him take a closer look at it, if he so wished. "Looks like someone we know, doesn't it?"

The doll does indeed have an uncanny resemblance to the woman you escorted from Barovia village to Vallaki, but it's purpose and mystery behind it still remains unknown.

"She's right here, but maybe we shouldn't be holding these dolls out if we acquired them through less than conventional means." Anborn pulls her out of his coat pocket long enough for Winter to see before putting it back in there. "How many dolls did you take anyway?"

"Divine intervention, my friend," Corrin quips. "It was Charmalaine's will. Who are we to question the whims of a goddess?" He shoots a knowing glance at Winter while smiling. "Either way, we should wrap up our business here and get on with this. Strahd's terroristic reign over these people needs to come to an end."

Orilo gives Corrin a hard look until Winter passes over the doll. "Hm. Similar, yes. But not the same. Not quite." He replied as he examined the doll front to back. "Curious. And did you find out 'who' this was ordered by? Could be -- and this is a... stretch, but could be someone that knows about Strahd's fascination with the woman." He admits, and then offers it back to Winter. "Either way, could be worth looking into further. Provided its original owner is in the mood to talk." He goes back to look at Corrin suspiciously. 

"Maybe you should talk to the owner, big guy. It's not exactly a good idea to steal something from someone and then go back to them asking why it's so important."

While you return to the church, the city guard are still there, but the remaining altar boy and congregants are overjoyed to see you all return the bones. The bones have magical properties and cast a "Hallow" spell around the church, protecting it from Strahds attacks. It only cost the Father's life this time. =P

It's late at night. I would be best to rent a room and prepare for the festival tomorrow.

Anborn rents a room for himself and heads up to it. "Goodnight, don't let the vampires bite, hopefully we learn something useful from the Baron tomorrow."

THE NEXT MORNING
THE FESTIVAL OF THE BLAZING SUN

Under threatening skies, a parade of unhappy children dressed as flowers trudges through the muddy streets, leading the way for a group of sorry-looking men and women carrying a ten-foot-diameter wicker ball. The burgomaster and his smiling wife, who holds a sad bouquet of wilting flowers, follow the procession on horseback. As weary spectators watch from their stoops, the ball is borne to the town square. There, it is hoisted and hung from a fifteen-foot-high wooden scaffold, and townsfolk take turns splashing it with oil. Before the wicker sun can be set ablaze, the sky tears open in a sudden downpour. “All will be well!” cries the burgomaster as he brandishes a sputtering torch and marches defiantly through the rain toward the wicker ball, only to have his torch go out as he thrusts it into the sphere.

A singular laugh erupts from the crowd, drawing the burgomaster’s fiery gaze as well as gasps from the townsfolk. The laugh comes from one of the city guard. Immediately, the guard's face turns to one of instant regret, and the burgomaster shouts, "Arrest him!" The guard is chained up, attached to the burgomaster's horse, and dragged away.

Gods, I've been to funerals that are less depressing than this. Strahd's really ****ed this land good, hasn't he? Anborn looks at the burgomaster, then to the party. "Well, there's our guy. Wanna go talk to him?"

"Sure, but he doesn't seem like the type that can take a joke, so perhaps someone a little bit more... persuasive should go?"

Corrin adjusts his coat, pulling his tinderbox from a pouch and marches forward to approach the burgomaster. With a flourishing bow, the halfling says, "Honored burgomaster, will that you allow me to help you rekindle that torch as surely the fiend Strahd will not win this day under your gallant watch." As he works to light the torch, Corrin offers, "Milord, honored baron, I must admit that your attempts to rally the spirits of the fine people of Vallaki have made, um, quite an impression on my friends and I as we travel through Barovia. Please, tell me, how is that you have been able to do so much in these dreadful times?" As he speaks, side eyes his friends, imploring them to approach as well.

Persuasion: 8 14 (in case I get advantage from aid)

Anborn sees Corrin side-eyeing the group and takes a second to whisper a reminder to the group before they head up to the burgomaster. "In case that guard's blunder didn't reinforce the point, don't shit-talk the festival or the burgomaster will think you're in league with Strahd and I'd rather not have to fight off every guard in Vallaki today because someone felt smart."

THE BURGOMASTER

The burgomaster turns to Corrin. "Ah." He says, "A silvered tongued outsider. How interesting." The burgomaster's massive personal guard takes a few steps closer to Corrin. "I do not divulge my..secrets..in public. You and your..companions.." he says was as much politeness as he can, "..may visit me in my mansion when the festival is over." His gaze lingers over all of you a long moment. "All will be well!" He shouts loudly to the crowd, and makes gestures to have the guard taken away, and the festival finishes. The burgomaster's personal guard rarely takes his eyes off of you all during it.

Corrin turns to the others. "I've secured us an invite to the burgomaster's manor. Shall we?"

"Lead on."