It's very, very cold out here. The air is thin, the sky is dark, and everything in sight is covered in snow. Off in the distance, a thin beam of light pierces the sky.
A promising sign? Or they're suspicious of the Prestidigitated one because it's poisonous unfamiliar and want to swap it out.
He takes a seat at the table and waves. "Select Blai Artigas."
He points at himself. "Leo Kirby."
He unfolds the board, gets out the pieces, and holds out a black pawn and a white pawn towards Blai.
Blai is content to play chess and nibble on the Created food till he's tired, which will be in about eight more hours, but of course he can be interrupted by whatever his hosts care to introduce.
If he is offering large quantities they can get a large container, which they would like mostly full.
It can't be Rahadoum, Rahadoum has an Inner Sea climate and, like, knows what clerics are... He will figure it out in the morning.
There is a period in which a bunch of people show up at the room with all the tables and get meals, but it is not accompanied by any discernible shift in outdoor light levels, what with the covered windows and all.
Some time after that it may feel dawn-like to Blai.
He has occasionally wondered what happens to clerics who go even farther north. Fortunately it seems to involve getting spells.
He doesn't have, like, a bedroom, yet, so he will try to find an out of the way corner in which to kneel and pray.
Well, if he both stares and doesn't interrupt for the whole hour he'll get to see a whole lot of Blai kneeling there, symbol in hand, not doing much.