Clara begins a pilgrimage to her old abbey outside Merridan, but encounters a new trial

Leaving the church in the hands of Cherubin and Doubles, her doppelganger, the high priestess began her pilgrimage by first stopping off at her house and choosing a more appropriate wardrobe for the journey. As it turned out... she didn't have a lot of simple, unremarkable clothing to dress into. Just about every article of clothing- even her underwear- was adorned somewhere by the church's cross and heart mark. She was happy to leave those there where no one would see them, but she couldn't very well wear her night slip out for the entire journey, as much as whatever traveling companions accompanied her might enjoy that. At the very least, she'd have to keep her amulet, or else risk exposing herself as an angel.

The most inconspicuous garment she could pick was the black, lightly stained habit she'd worn out with Ursula the previous night. It felt a bit unsanitary to wear it again already... considering some of the demands that had been made of her that night, many of which involved releasing semen into or onto the garment... but this really was the only piece of clothing she had that wouldn't make her look like the high priestess. To finish, she wrapped an old traveling cloak around her shoulders. It wasn't dirty or wrong-sized (she was a cleanly person and hadn't aged a day since she was brought into existence by Geod), but it was pretty dusty... she sneezed loudly , then decided to pull it off and spend some time dusting it.

By the time Clara had finished packing, she realized she'd only left herself about an hour of daylight. She would need to quickly find a carriage out of town, before all of the reputable ones left town!

All of the reputable ones had left town.

As the last of the daylight hours left, Clara found herself stuffed not into a carriage, but what could more appropriately be described as a hay-cart, riding out of town with a ragtag bunch of laborers, ten altogether including the man driving the cart. The men all wore hoods close around their heads, as if they anticipated rain... it was not a good sign. "Geod... are you not smiling upon your poor child's voyage?" The priestess turned her forlorn eyes toward the sky for some sort of message and received only a drop of rain in response. "Or... is this yet another trial?" The cart smelled like the farm animals it normally transported, and like the nine-tenths unwashed travelers it carried.

Nestled in between an especially large man with a dull frown on his face and an especially short man with wool-like hair that poked out from his hood and scratched her arms, Clara prayed for strength to a deity she was increasingly convinced delighted in seeing her tormented...

"Do you think we shall see much rain, driver?" The high priestess called up to the front carriage.

"Count on it. Best keep your eyes down just in case, little miss.... And remember, the demons outside of the town's barrier are fond of pretty blonds like yourself..."