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[h2][color=FF6C5C][i][b]Marita Bärbel[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=FF6C5C]Human, Cleric, Level 3[/color][/b][/i]
[color=FF6C5C][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 18/18	[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 18	[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Darenby
[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=FF6C5C][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A 
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Marita stepped into the local temple of Darenby and took stock of its condition. It matched the aura of the rest of the town for sure. Sturdy and well-built, even if not aesthetically striking. For those who grew up in these kinds of environments or felt a connection to simpler rural life, it would be quite comely, comforting even. Marita belonged to neither of those categories. Her eyes swept across the room and took in the various deities who had their own small corners of the room with dedicated shrines and small offerings. It was about what she expected and had become accustomed to seeing since moving out to the country. In villages like this they hadn't the time or people to devote a separate church for multiple gods, and the culture in these parts wasn't strongly tied to a single divine so this would have to make do.

Unsurprisingly those enshrined here were mostly agricultural gods, along with a few scattered miscellaneous deities, sun, peace, love, mercantile. Surprisingly most of them were from halfling pantheons. Evidently that demographic was the most religious here. Or perhaps cultural osmosis just lead to this outcome. It didn't particularly matter to Marita. Although she would have preferred a shrine to Pholtus, as long as all the gods worshipped were legitimate she didn't care who exactly these people worshipped. She was an outsider and she was not here on missionary work. If anything, attempting to proselytize in every settlement she visited would only disrupt the holy work already being performed and sour local opinions on Him, she had learned that the hard way.

On the opposite side of the temple was a frumpy middle aged halfling woman dressed in clerical vestments sweeping the floor. She was either lost in thought or so focused on what she was doing that she did not notice Marita enter the building until she made a show of clearing her throat. The halfling flinched to attention, directing her eyes towards Marita, first at the amulet on her chest before meeting her narrowed eyes.

"Sorry for not noticing you earlier, dear. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Sister Michele. What does a Lady of Blinding Light require?" Marita looked down at the priestess who barely came up to her belly button. Michele was all smiles, but her words and tone carried a faint hint of suspicion, perhaps even aggression. Understandable considering they were technically rivals in the same field, but irritating all the same.

[color=FF6C5C]"I'm merely here to pay my respects. I have no intention of trying to convert the townsfolk or impede on your work. If anything, if I am still in town feel free to call upon me for assistance. Marita Bärbel at your service."[/color] Marita performed a shallow bow, and this seemed to pacify any worries the halfling might have had. Her expression remained unchanged, but her body language shifted ever so slightly.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to turn you down on that, but feel free to come back any time." And with that she returned to sweeping. Marita turned to leave, glad this particular chore was over and done with. She was halfway out the door before she stopped in her tracks and turned back around.

[color=FF6C5C]"You wouldn't happen to know where the Infamous Pear is, would you?"[/color]

"I'm surprised a woman like you would want to go to a place like that. Head West from here on the other side of the fort. Look for the sign with the masked pear." Wordlessly, Marita exited the temple back into the cool sunset. She took out the letter from the Sheriff and gave it one more read. She was surprised to have received such a message from Father Restoff, the priest of Bleakriver, a village about 10 days North where she had been staying for the past few months. As much as she loathed being lumped in with the crowd one step above banditry and mercenaries known as adventurers, she couldn't find it in her to refuse the summons. Something about the wording gnawed at the back of her head. There was no doubt that there was a lot more here at stake than simple goblins and she couldn't in good conscious leave it up to a lot of would-be criminals.

When she arrived at the Infamous Pear and asked about the Arbelest party, she sat silently through the barkeep's spiel, sneering and rolling her eyes through his speech but otherwise silent. It was all so tiresome to put up with. She looked over to the table and saw only one other seated, a rather large Tiefling who looked a few years her elder. Contrary to her expectations he had quite the well groomed look about him. Perhaps the son of a well off merchant? No matter, she took the seat to his left. It was only once she was seated that it occurred to her that maybe she had parked herself too close and this might be interpreted the wrong way, but it was too late to back out now. Quickly, she racked her brain for something to say before any awkwardness could set in.

[color=FF6C5C]"Any word from the Sheriff?"[/color]