This shallow valley in the foothills of a broad mountain range is usually unoccupied aside from the occasional shepherd and flock. Today, though, it's bustling: much of the space is taken up by a hastily erected tent city, mismatched canvas scrounged from wherever it could be found, with cookfires clustered in the rockiest section and a field hospital laid out near the small lake at the bottom of the valley, all in use by an especially heterogenous and ragged collection of humanoids. Near the hospital, a bit of space has been left free for various purposes, including the music performance it's currently being used for, which has drawn an audience of children and their parents.
The gasps and shouts and tears are all from the recipients of the channel, this time. The healers get in on the cheering, though.
Well hopefully the locals can pick it up somehow with exposure and then it will be gloriously mundane.
Not everyone is going to make it out under their own power but they only need one trip with the wheelchairs, this time. Raafi joins the clerics explaining to those who were brought in unconscious where they are and what has happened.
Blai will push chairs, if that's the done thing and they're all going in the same direction!
They are and it seems to be - the old woman in the wheelchair he picks thanks him with gravity in her voice and asks to shake his hand. There's someone directing traffic by the main doors, and the donation box is set up just beyond them; they don't seem to be bringing the people still in wheelchairs to it by default (though one of them is putting a donation in when he spots it) but plenty of the others are stopping there for a moment, or calling to family members waiting nearby to come and put some coins in.
He will shake hands with the old woman and follow another wheelchair-pusher rather than make decisions about whether to steer her by the box.
She calls out to a younger woman, perhaps a daughter or niece, when they get that far, and directs her to put 'at least the herb budget for the next couple months, I haven't felt this good in years' in the donation box.
"Jess can take care of me from here," she says as the ambiguously-daughter comes back. "Thank you again, young man, and I wish you luck establishing your church here or whatever it is you've come to do."
ahahaha he is absolutely not qualified to do that. He is not even qualified to belong to the Church. "Thank you."
It's pretty crowded in the hallway just outside the auditorium; he probably won't want to linger. Raafi and the other clerics and staff helping the newly healed are still inside, and there are another couple clerics keeping an eye on the family members if he'd like to stand with them, or he can follow the crowd and head out of the building altogether.
The only people still in wheelchairs inside are still having the situation explained to them, and it seems like the Pelorians have the situation in hand.
The chaos gets worse outside; many of the patients are loading themselves back into the wagons or simply walking home, but some have stopped to gather themselves after the experience or just to enjoy being whole and out of pain for the first time in a while. The commotion has attracted some passerby, too; a couple of food carts have descended on the situation, in addition to the random rubberneckers, and a few of the passerby are actively trying to figure out what happened. Nobody is taking any special notice of him yet, but it may just be a matter of time.
...well, then, he'll go find a wall or a bench to sit on so he can answer questions more comfortably.
There are a few benches. They're occupied, but if he moves in their direction he'll find that they don't stay that way.
...hopefully he's not being rude just by investigating a bench that turns out to have people on it (temporarily).
Sit.
The people from the bench really don't seem to mind turning it over to him. One of them sticks around to ask for a handshake; soon after that someone else notices him and comes over to thank him. That draws more attention, helped along by people pointing him out to newcomers, and soon there's a line of people wanting to meet him.
One of the Pelorians, a halfling, works her way through the crowd to check that he's all right with all of this; she'll stand back and observe for a minute rather than contribute to the problem by speaking to him immediately.
He's Chelish! She probably couldn't tell either way! He will shake hands and say "you're welcome" as often as is required.
After the minute, she looks back at the wagon situation and then approaches. "Let me know if you want me to disperse the crowd, Select Blai," and she takes a casual guarding stance next to the bench.
She'll just hang around, then, at least for the few minutes it takes for Raafi to show up.
"They're not going to let you block the road for long," he comments quietly. "How do you feel about giving a little speech or something instead of meeting everyone?"
And yet it would not have been suggested like that if it were not at least desirable.
Okay. Objective: disperse the crowd, politely, briefly.
He gets up and stands on the bench. "Thank you all for your kind words, including those of you who have not yet had the chance to speak them; I only hope those I've healed will remain well and happy, but must be on my way now."
The crowd cheers again. "Well done. Library?" Raafi offers his hand for a teleport.
And they're in the vestibule of the library, between two sets of doors and across from a stone desk with a few staff behind it and a bank of scribes beyond those. A sign on the wall lists prices for access to various parts of the library by the hour, day, or month and for renting books by the day or week.
"Sorry about that, I wasn't expecting you to leave without me."