"Closest place if she's hungry," the Professor gave a shrug, "We've, we've, we've no... cafes here. Food is sold at m-market. Dine at taverns, or inn. No need for, for cafes. We haven't many... visitors."
He pointed down the alleyway. "The tavern, the tavern, many youngfolk go there, to that one. Off of the main road, yes. The youngfolk there, they enjoy my creations, my work. I could show them m-my lightning!"
As Calien approached the monastery, the monks had all but dispersed, save for a few friars who generally traveled the streets and at times collected for the poor. These clergymen acted as a sort of standing guard for the monastery.
Noticing Calien's approach, one of the friars started walking toward him. The dark-skinned middle-aged man wore the same simple robe as his shorter compatriot, only his was free of debris and burns. He smiled as he approached. "Good day to you, Sir. May I be of assistance?"
((Had to do some last-minute research. Friars work among the laypeople, whereas monks are sequestered and self-sufficient. The Prof is a monk, but he's a nutcase and goes about laypeople, so he'd technically be a friar. But, he didn't take the same vows. He's just a nut.))