This here demon is doing her very best not to disturb the quiet! Really, she promises! 

But there's only so much you can do to damp the heavy footfalls of someone her size wearing a hundred pounds of heavy adamantine plate. 

"A wizard here, you say?" she wonders dubiously. 

Her companion somehow manages to clasp his hands in a woe-is-me-I-am-so-innocent gesture without wobbling where he is perched casually on her shoulder, heels braced lightly against arm plates and an elbow looped neatly around one of her horns for balance. "Would I lie to you?" he chirps. 

The people of this part are, indeed, giving the duo the occasional odd look - not too many people from the wider city wander into this part of it - and the place doesn't look like the sort to hold a great hero. No towering crystal spires or floating castles, just plain stucco construction.

This street seems to be mostly businesses with single- or two-story apartments above them, with two inns (the Cat's Meadhall and the Velvet Sea, the later nicer-looking than the former), a baker's, a general grocer, an apothecary, a tea house, a tailor's, a small bookseller, and a few others in that vein. 

Hmm. Wizardy things, wizardy things ... books and weird plants, right? 

Let's investigate the apothecary. Tromp tromp clank. Hopefully the door is big enough to fit through, at least with her wings neatly folded under a voluminous brown cloak.

The apothecary's is cramped, and smells strongly of a pungent mix of herbs. The woman behind the counter has blue-grey skin and hair the color of seaweed that floats about her shoulders as if submerged. Her eyes are overly large for her face, colored a deep, dark blue.

"Morning," she trills when the two enter, not stopping in grinding something. "How can I help you?"

"Good morning!" replies Serra brightly. She glances around and tries not to put her elbows into anything fragile. "I am in search of someone who might be able to answer a question about magic." 

"Well, I mostly know my herbs, not magic. You looking for someone in particular?"

This seems to Ashiok, who knows a thing or two about people who live in cities and like their privacy, like it is the time for subtext! 

He begins formulating something subtle and friendly with which to signal that they totally know there's a wizard in this neighborhood but respect her obvious desire for quiet, and opens his mouth - 

- and Serra, who is constitutionally incapable of subtlety, says sunnily, "Yes, I think so! I do not know her name but I am told there might be a wizard about?" 

"Plenty of wizards under this sky, we're not lacking for educated types," she says. "But I'm not in the habit of giving out the personal details of any of my customers."

"Well, that's very admirable," this is very sincere, loyalty and protectiveness are virtues after all, "but I assure you that I will do her no harm." 

Sigh. Paladins, honestly. 

A gentle whisper in the shopkeep's mind, while Ashiok is innocuously inspecting nearby spices to see if any of them smell nice: Don't mind my friend. She has somehow lived a century without grasping the concept of justified distrust, but she likes wizards, gets all dumb and overprotective over 'em like they're extremely clever kittens, yours'll be safe. 

"The question isn't safety. I handle delicate matters. Private matters."

Puzzled squint. "Well, of course, I don't want to invade anyone's privacy, I won't go around telling other people where to find someone who doesn't want to be found, that'd be very rude! I don't even need to ask her her name or anything ... ?" 

"I'm not telling you where to find even someone who wanted to be found, the fact that they're my customers is private. It's a medical concern."

... A medical concern! Serra is immediately distracted. 

"I can fix those," she says, tapping the sun-disk painted on her chestplate like this obviously explains that confident statement in the total absence of information about the nature of the medical problem.  "Even if she doesn't want to do any magic for me. I would hate to leave people with unresolved pain I could have fixed." 

"Maaaaybe," suggests Ashiok, leaning back into Serra's field of view with a glass bottle of a plant in hand, "we could be good customers, and buy something, and tell the nice lady," this is totally not a flirty smile for the proprietor, what are you talking about, "where we're staying, and go away so she can talk to the wizard without you being all ... " vague gesture " ... you, at her." 

Going away from problems is not really Serra's forte. 

" ....... I suppose that is not unreasonable." 

"It's very reasonable! I am the most reasonable and you should appreciate me." 

"I don't talk to all of my costumers that often, some only once a month. If you want a specific person, you might try the bookshop or an inn or restaurant, the barkeeps know practically everyone. It's just that they shop here in particular that's private. You wouldn't go about telling people if you healed someone that'd gotten injured somewhere private, would you? I would not mind you buying something, though, I sell all sorts of things, something for everyone."

"Oh, um, all right." Serra peers at the thing Ashiok has set on the counter; it is not obviously evil or dangerous and in fact appears to be a perfectly ordinary, if slightly obscure, edible spice, so that seems fine. "I'd like to buy that, then, and we'll be out of your hair." 

The shop's prices are very reasonable, though 'slightly obscure' does up the cost a little bit. The apothecary doesn't blink at the purchase, either.

And this is the sort of city where it's very easy to exchange gold for appropriate currency, so a reasonable and ordinary purchase is had by all.

Now it's time to talk to a barkeep! Is there an inn nearish-by that looks like it might be open but not so busy it would be hard to get a word in edgewise? 

Of the two inns on this street, the Velvet Sea is definitely quieter, though most of the visible patrons are wearing fine clothes and not armor. The Cat's Meadhall isn't noisy, though is apparently more crowded, with a few well-heeled adventurous types lounging on the patio out front alongside the more everyday crowd.

Hmm. Crowded but more likely to be distracting and less likely visited by someone who wants quiet, quieter but might require some extra effort ... 

Serra weighs her options and then steps into an alleyway, tells her companion "invisible, not gone, don't do anything ridiculous," vanishes, and reappears a few minutes later in a significantly nicer, armor-free outfit, embroidered with sun disks rather than painted. This makes her look a lot less comically enormous, although she is still on the tall side of the human range and without the width of the pauldrons cannot fold her wings small enough to fit reasonably under a cloak. 

She is probably still visually loud enough that if anyone at the Cat's Meadhall wants to talk to her they'll say so when she walks by, but she'd like to investigate the Velvet Sea first.