Arnolf invites Si'Juul and Paren along to his shop to have a look at the weapon, which he fawns over in amazement, excited by the craftsmanship. He admits that he might have been a bit full of himself when offering to repair it, and lets you use the workstation for 60 gold pieces and the guarantee you will advertise him as the master of clockworks.

Paren, anything you wish to undertake while Si'Juul is busy repairing his gun?

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Meanwhile, Poinki in another halfling disguise and Elhanna make their way to the cathedral. It's easy even for complete strangers to the city like yourselves to find the way, since the belltower of the cathedral juts out from the surrounding rooftops like a tree growing from the underbrush. As you make your way unto the plaza bordering the cathedral, you can't help but be amazed at the sheer size of the building. On a sixty foot façade framing two twenty-foot high oaken doors are displayed a myriad of intricately carved scenes depicting the lord of suffering and the stories of his martyrdom. Towards the apex, you find another carved figure, at least ten foot tall, of Ilmater on the rack. Above the roof, a central tower rises towards the sky, its roof adorned with spikes, spires and crenelations like a crown of thorns on the body of the edifice.

Despite the artisanship on display, you can't help but also notice the ballustrade and crenalations about halfway up the façade, or the many arrow slits among the decorations further up. As much as this is a cathedral, it is also undoubtedly a citadel. A true Bastion of the Faith.

Before the cathedral, scattered across the plaza and the steps leading up to the cathedral doors, you find families of gnomish refugees, huddled together, and casting furtive glances at passersby, some optimistically hoping for a helping hand or some coin, others afraid of further abuse. Then, as the bells on the tower ring the evening hour, you see the giant oaken doors swing inward, and a small procession emerge. At the front, four accolytes in simple linen clothes and bared upper bodies descend in unison, whipping themselves with knotted ropes at every step until their backs are a bloody mess.Behind them, two church officials in White garbs with the insignia of Ilmater emblazoned on their chests, follow handing out bread and water to the refugees. Remaining at the top of the stairs, overlooking everything and blessing the proceedings with a gesture of his hand is the figure of an old man. He is bowed by age, with sagging jowls and fingers hooked by gout. He is adorned in golden finery, and official symbols of his office, with a richly decorated hat sitting upon his whispy white hair.

Before long, the food and water is dispensed and the priests take care of the backs of the flagellants, closing their wounds with spells. Shortly thereafter, they make their way back into the cathedral, with the heaavy oaken doors shutting in place.

What would you like to do next?

"Can't say I am one for nighttime ventures either. Also can't say monasteries are my first choice, either. So I suppose we wander around town, see if anything useful is still open or just head straight to the tavern."

Unless he can spot a likely place to pick up materials for his poisoner's or herbalism kits he'll just stay with Si'Juul and watch.

"It does not matter to me. I'm still just a passenger on this ride really, trying to figure out how i can be useful and what you've all gotten yourselves in to."

Elhanna will walk around the poor and offer up healing to anyone needing it. If there are children among them or any poor single mother or abused young teens she will give them some coin. I’m total she will spend about 50g in alms and healing material. 

While helping she will try to find someone who has seen any suspicious activities or heard the phrase father Ephesian chanted in his crazed state.  (Persuation w ad: 10) 

I rolled with advantage because of her healing and alms? 

Poinki watches the self-flagellation with surprise and confusion. "Why do they beat themselves?  Do they like it? Don't any other people want to do it for them? In goblin tribes, you get all of that you want, until you are strong enough to do it to others instead," he whispers to Elhanna. He will accompany her to try and help her, and protect her from any evildoers in the bad sections of town.

"You already know what I have gotten myself into. As for the others, time will tell. Poinki was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Elhanna is fleeing from something or other she has yet to really explain to us. And Twitch, much like you, just seems along for the ride with quite the interest in my firearms. Well, I will have a walk to see just what shops are still open at this hour, if any."

Si'Juul begins doing just that, taking his time to see what shops are here and if they are still open.

Paren and Si'Juul, walking around the riverside district, you can tell that the merchants and artisans living here are getting by and harbour an immense pride of living inside the city, as opposed to across the river. Although the average house and shop is no more than two stories tall, and the façades look worn, the fresh paint and stained wood on the doors and windowframes, the polished shop signs and brass plaques indicating the street names indicated a level of care and importance of appearances.

As you walk around, you quickly find an oddity of this city: While the buildings aren't particularly tall, many shops are in fact repurposed cellars, with doors opening up onto street level. As you head out of the watchmakers and slowly follow the cobblestone street back to the market square, you walk past an underground tavern and dancehall, with a shrilly dressed gnome advertising their special seasonal Pumpkin Ale outside, and you see a similar display, with a stocky dwarf with cropped beard and wearing heavy stage make- up trying to usher passers-by into the underground theatre nearby. After about ten minutes or so of walking, you realise that there might be a lot more nightlife in this city than you at first thought.

Another five minutes or so pass, when you both walk past a small apothecary that is still opened. It's possible that they sell ingredients that could serve Paren's needs.

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Twitch and Oleg have both gone ahead to secure accommodation for the evening at the Driftwood Tavern.

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Menawhile, Elhanna and Poinki quickly have a gathering of the nearby gnomes around them, gladly accepting the alms and the help. While many can tell you that they have fled the invasion of the drow into the gnomish riviera further south, most don't recognise the phrase and don't understand what you mean by supsicious activity. An elder gnome with a young gnome girl tugs at her sleeve though, as she's about to head away.

"I... I'm sorry. The name's Dante, and this is Olivia. She isn't mine. I was a follower of the faith down south. I don't recognise this practice, though I heard the flagellants use this phrase of yours. I thought it was a regional thing, but you're saying there's more to it than that?"

Poinki or Elhanna, please roll a religion check, if you want to get an insight into the practice

Poinki religion check: 8

Religion check: 16

Poinki, from the little confrontation you had with the church of Ilmater, you know that there are certain followers that believe in a form of ritualised self-harm or castigation in remembrance of the suffering of the Broken One, and to remember the suffering surrounding us. Usually, this takes the form of small bloodletting ceremonies, or the wearing of thorn crowns and horsehair shirts, while covering a certain distance on all fours. This display fits into another ritualised form of castigation, but the healing towards the end of the ceremony, as well as the uttered phrase likely hint at another, or a deeper explanation.

"Poinki sort of knows WHY they do it, Poinki just thinks it makes no sense," Poinki whispers to Elhana, being very careful not to be overheard.

“Hello Olivia, I’m Elhanna Gray. I’m a cleric of Mishakal.” She smile to the little girl but then shift her focus to Dante. “You did? Can you tell me what you saw?” She ask in hushed tone, trying not to scare the man into silence. 

"Yes, the first day we got here, I pushed close enough to get some food for the both of us. They were chanting it as they were whipping themselves. I thought it was a way to remind themselves of the evil surrounding us, or some such thing, but it didn't quite sit right with me."

"They do to remember suffering in the world," Poinki explains. "And share in memory of Ilmater suffering. It seems like maybe better to spend the time working to stop suffering. Lots to go around without making more."

Paren heads inside the apothecary. "Yes, hello. I'm wondering if you have any ingredients that I could use to supplement my kits. Specifically I'm looking for things that can heal and also help someone pass without feeling pain. As well, if you have some things I could use to shut down a person's muscles,  to help me work on them without them resisting, that would be most helpful." 

Dante speaks up: "You're right, though I guess they try to do that with the alms and whatnot. I do like your approach though... what was your name again?"

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The Apothecary looks at you for a moment, before replying in an unsure tone of voice: "Hello... Yes, we sell ingredients... But I'd need to see some sort of guild license or other form of authentication that can prove that you know how to handle the...other... items you requested, and more importantly, that you won't use them to nefarious ends."

You get the sense that the man doesn't believe you want the substances only to heal people.

Paren shakes his head. "Is this what this part of the world has come too? Those who wish to help others need to have a license? I am a member of no guild and therefore have no 'license to heal.' I belong to the Green Monks." He gestures to his robes and mask. "I don't know if your experiences in life include the Westwoods but if they do you may be familiar with the tenets of my order."

"Do you have to have a license to buy anything in this town, or is it just your own personal rule?"

Si'Juul stands a few feet behind Paren, arms crossed and not directly facing the Apothecary attendant.

"I'm afraid, the guild and the church have very strict rules as pertains to the sorts of goods I peddle. You see, in the past we had some trouble with medical supplies getting misused, leading to quite an epidemic of wastrels and dope fiends. The Archbishop decided it be best if such things were prevented by only allowing licensed guilds and individuals to purchase such wares. Now, I have healing herbs that I can part with without the need for such proof, but for any sedatives and the like, my hands are tied, unfortunately." The uman apothecary gives a pained smile, probably sad at the missed business opportunity.

"So is this rule limited to just herbs? Or is everything else sold here falling under the same restrictions?"