Seeing three men idling together near the church's steps with blackjacks on their belts reminds you of an unpleasant memory. Were these the same three stooges who tried to interrupt you and your mother during your first visit here? You've honestly forgotten their faces.
As you approach, each of them pulls out his leather cudgel, but the silent intimidation of Shigeko's presence keeps them somewhat compliant as they remain grouped, inching to intercept your advance.

''Right, right.'' Rick grips his halberd properly, adopting a defensive posture after you inevitably stop. ''The ladies here have business with the bishop, and nobody will stop them, understood?''

''Not happening.'' One of the men protests, all three looking equally middle-aged. ''Monsters in the sacred house of our gods aren't welcome. Elves don't rule us, she-'' The pointed tip of Rick's halberd, now bearing near his face, brings peaceful silence and an immediate, dangerous tensing of their stances. Three cudgels against one halberd aren’t the odds they want to test, thankfully.

''Let's go.'' You nod to your friends. ''And don’t get yourself in trouble on our account now, please.'' You remark to the young man who so dutifully escorted you; he was obviously trying to show off. Rick responds with a laugh, while the other men have no choice but to let your group pass, glaring silent daggers at your monstrous friends. This tension between the mercs and the militia might honestly explode in a few weeks.

Though your opinion of Belmont has taken a nosedive, you can’t critique the main hall of his church. The large central space boasts plenty of pews, tasteful decorations, and an echoing quality that makes walking feel impressive, with spotless cleanliness. The wide opening of the holy web takes center stage near the altar, atop a statue honoring the Good Mother. The combination of gold and white translucent luminescence creates a constant spheroid haze above the statue’s head, momentarily captivating your attention. Did a ritual happen recently?

''U-Um... sorry?'' A timid voice draws your attention away from the sphere. A feminine acolyte, whom you’d place around your age, looks at you with strained courage.
''My colorful friends will accompany me.'' It’s best to start strong, I think. ''I need to speak with the bishop. Would you be kind enough to guide me to his location? Only the ears of our gods should hear our conversation.'' Shigeko’s weighty, silent stare and Seyraphal lurking behind you are more than enough to complete the intimidation your weapons lack.

''U-Um, this isn’t exactly proper. The bishop...'' She fidgets nervously with her hands, staying put. You insist with another polite ''please'' to get her moving, her eyes focusing on your ears more than your face. That was all the coercion you needed.