does he have his holy symbol, he could stand to channel some energy maybe

He does have his holy symbol! He can channel energy! If this does anything to the wound, it's not anything he can feel.

"Hey, somebody!" (A different voice this time; this one belongs to a woman, and her Hallit has some sort of accent to it.) "We got a wounded fighter! Can we get a healer over here? Someone with more than just a Lay On Hands, I'm pretty sure he just channeled."

 "My, my, would you look at this?" (Male, different from the first voice, with a Mendevian upper-class accent, if Blai's met enough Mendevians to distinguish.) "But why would you drag a wounded fighter into the middle of the festival square? Couldn't he be carted off somewhere else, like... oh I don't know... an infirmary? Or an accommodating ditch?"

"Make room, everyone step back! Now, what's the matter? What happened to him?" (An elderly man comes into view, wearing his own symbol of Iomedae, with a stern expression; when he sees Blai's holy symbol, his face softens.) "That wound looks nasty — you said a channel didn't touch it?"

 "Yes, Prelate."

"Lesser Restoration." 

The pain in Blai's chest slightly recedes, and the worst of the bleeding stops, but the chest wound is still there and still painful.

He gulps slightly more air as the pain/oxygen tradeoff improves. ...he's never actually had Tongues cast on him, so his question is not "is this more like Tongues or more like Comprehend Languages", but: is it like Comprehend Languages? If it is he can't expect anyone to understand him in return. What does he have in his spell slots, is it still the same day - or has he been unconscious for all the intervening dawns -

He has the same spells that he remembers preparing at dawn this morning. If he's already expended any of them, they seem to have been... replenished, somehow? (Any food or water that he's created has disappeared.)

His subjective experience of the translation effect feels subtly different from and more comprehensive than a Comprehend Languages.

Maybe it's Tongues. "Thank you," he rasps. "Where am I?"

"You're in Kenabres," says the man who healed him. "Market Square, near the Inheritor's temple."

 "We found him barely alive outside the city walls," says the man who called for a healer.

The man who healed him frowns. "The enemy usually doesn't stray this close to the city, and my healing magic could barely touch your wound. Someone fetch Terendelev!"

(There are noises like an argument in the background, though it's still a little hard to focus on them, and then someone takes off running.)

"How did - I get to - Kenabres -" He's been there, once, when he was assigned to escort a Chelish fourth-circle party around the rim of the Wound for the teleport locations they would aspirationally be able to use in another few fights, but not for long.

"You don't recall why you're here?" says the man who healed him in a suspicious tone. "Where were you before?"

"Menador in Cheliax."

The man seems to find that incredibly suspicious. He squints at Blai for a couple moments.

"...Regardless, bearing weapons is not permitted during the festival, even if you are a fellow servant of the Inheritor. We will return your mace after the festival."

One of the crusaders attempts to pick up Blai's mace.

"- I don't think I'm - in festival attending condition - anyway - is there somewhere out of the way I can -"

"Terendelev is on her way now, she'll be able to heal you if anyone can."

It's then that a silver-haired woman stops by his side. "My dear Prelate — please, for the sake of the festivities, stop interrogating this poor man. He has been through enough already. Heal."

The wound in his chest closes and the pain recedes, leaving only the dull ache of a mostly-healed injury.

"There. You may rest in the Temple of the Inheritor if you would prefer to avoid the festivities, but either way, please be careful. This wound is no ordinary injury, and no weapon I have heard of in Mendev or Menador could have inflicted it. I have managed to get you back on your feet, but even my magic cannot heal you fully. Sooner or later, its pain may return."

"Thank you very much, Lady Terendelev. Which way is the temple, please?" That he did not visit last time he was here.

"It's just a short walk, right over there."

 "I can show him the way, ma'am," says the man who first called for a healer. Now that Blai can get a closer look at him, he seems to be a halfling, dressed in the same uniform as the rest of the Mendevian crusaders here.

He can probably get up now. Is his mace still on his person since he declined the festival invitation?

The man who ordered it taken is looking at him so suspiciously about it, but doesn't seem to feel like he has any grounds on which to overrule Terendelev.

Then he will go to a temple of Iomedae for the first time.

As he reaches the steps of the temple, the ground begins to shake. A few of the festival-goers shake off their magical disguises; vrocks swoop down from the sky; babaus appear seemingly out of nowhere. On the other side of the square there's something that might be a Vrolikai.

All of them start to attack the festival-goers, targeting civilians and crusaders more-or-less indiscriminately, save that all of them are steering clear of Terendelev. None of them are attacking Blai or his companion, at least not yet.

(Areelu Vorlesh had not been planning on calling down the attack quite this early, but needs must.)

That's - unusually bold, an unusually strong force - if they were holding a festival they can't've had any warning -

- he's not going to have much chance to be suspicious of how they aren't targeting him before he charges into the thick of it to drop a Prayer wherever it looks like it will go farthest.

One of the crusaders who sees this flashes him a grateful smile and then returns to attempting to smite the babau she's engaged with. 

Some of the demons notice him casting and decide he looks like a great next target! (Sure, they're not supposed to, but 'following extremely clear orders' is a bit of an advanced skill for demons.) Others of the demons notice him casting and decide they'd rather go after some squishy civilians rather than anyone who might possibly land a hit on them! This brimorak has apparently decided to ignore all of the actual people in favor of lighting random structures on fire!

Across the square, Terendelev is firing off Flame Strikes where the demons are clumped together, and the man who healed him seems to be holding his own against a Vrock. Most of the other crusaders are not doing nearly so well; the Prayer helps, but there's only so much can do for someone who's not even a strong enough paladin to be immune to fear.

There's a buzzing sound in the sky, and some sort of dark black cloud approaching the square from above.

IS THAT ACTUALLY FUCKING DESKARI okay whatever is going on here his job is to make sure the smallest possible number of demons, whether that number includes actually fucking Deskari or not, gets past the local defenses and disperses into the world. Step this way so he doesn't blind any crusaders and - Burst of Radiance - and then the mace comes out.

The crusaders appreciate this! They take the opportunity to take down a few more of the now-blinded demons.

Also, yes, it is in fact Deskari, accompanied by a cloud of locusts.

"Behold, crusader gods, behold, Iomedae, you poor Imposter," he says, his voice loud enough to shake the festival banners. "Your city will fall to me. Your followers will feed my hunger."

It's really very confusing that this is happening after the closure of the Worldwound but maybe Deskari just doesn't need such conveniences. He focuses on the adjacent demons. They aren't all dead and that's a problem.

However the demons got here, they seem no less vulnerable to being hit with a mace! This one is dead now. This one is trying to stab him — no, now it's running away? This dretch was already injured and goes down in a single hit.