Jodon never takes his eyes off the child, but the toys fall silent for a brief moment while he Messages Majira "Forgive the intrusion - you are wise to not pay when we have rooms elsewhere, but surely this man deserves some recompense or gratuity for keeping your equipment safe for your return?   Honest behavior between free folk should be encouraged, after all."

"Thank you anyway," Dathyra said to the man. In all honesty, she had forgotten about the arrangement Kelbin had at the inn. She was more concerned about their party's condition. "We really had better be going," she said to the group. "I'd like to be able to check on Wendel's condition once more before we retire."

 As the group readies to leave, Jodon stands and addresses son, then father.  "I am afraid we have to go now ('awww,' says a toy), but everything we've done here, you can do inside your head.  Play hard, and, when your father calls, work harder. L isten to your pa - no calling is nobler than providing hearth and home to people away from their own, especially with the honesty your father shows."  He surreptitiously presses 3 silver into the man's hand.  "And thank you from all of us for keeping my companion's gear safe.  Not all innkeepers would have done the same.  Next time we need lodging in town, I will definitely seek out this father-and-son establishment, and tell my friends the same."

Mijira stiffens at the mental intrusion again. She makes no reply to Jodon, but she puts the ten copper back down. The dragonborn knew the halfling was right, but the thoughts in her head were strange and unnerving. If he could speak in her mind so easily, what else could he do inside her head? She liked him, but he scared her more than a little.

It takes some time with Mijira's exhaustion and Wendel getting ever heavier on Holg's shoulder, but the party finds themselves back at the Tapped Keg. Wendel's form stirs after being there for about an hour. He says to the room's occupants, "Wha- Where am I?" He sits up, groans, puts a hand to his head, and then lays back down. The color is drained from his face and hands, but he is very much alive for the time being.

 Dathyra didn't really need the bed for going into trance. She only did so because the human members of her temple had expected their elven, refugee visitors to adapt to human customs. She didn't mind either way, but upon returning to the inn, it seemed logical to have Wendel placed on the bed in the room where she rested so that she could periodically check on him, should things have gotten worse. 

In the meantime, she tried to get some rest. Sitting on the floor, the way she had always done as a child for entering trance, Dathyra tried to engage in the usual mental exercises elves did while in their rest period. It was equivocal to dreams, at least that was the best way she knew how to relate it to humans. But, it was much more conscious and deliberate than that. It was creating a mental construct, based on memories and whatever her subconscious wished to tell her at that time. It was hard to do when she first arrived at the temple. Her constructs were plagued with the memories of the raids, and everyone she had lost. For a while, she had even decided to no longer engage in the mental exercises to avoid thinking about it.

The same could be said now. She had tried to reconstruct memories of the previous day's events, hoping to gain some insight into this mystery. Perhaps her subconscious recognized something she hadn't at the time. Instead, memories of the man whose skull she had cracked leaked their way into every crevice of her construction, distracting her, and filling her with an uneasy dread.

When she heard Wendel stir an hour into her trance, she was actually thankful for it. True, physically, she felt more rested than earlier, but mentally, she felt drained. Resting in a simple under-tunic, she grabbed her temple vestment cloak and threw it over her as she went to check on him. At least he was now conscious. That was a good sign. "You really need to rest," she said. "We took you with us to an inn here in the city after you collapsed. We figured you really ought to be as far away from that horrible place as possible."

She made a quick effort to check his condition. She might've been able to take care of some of his other injuries if she had some medicinal herbs and such. Unfortunately, her work with the stray children had meant she had used the last of her supply long before she had engaged on this mission. A great many of those children had come in very terrible states of neglect or abuse.

Jodon starts to object to the binding of Wendel, then realizes he may have pushed Holg too far in sparing and rescuing Wendel earlier, making the big man carry him all this time.  Besides, Holg's precautions usually proved prudent.  Jodon wants to say with Wendel overnight, if only to assuage is guilt and helping the poor man trigger the curse, but understands Dathyra provides better care than could he, so he retires for the evening.

Two rescues, but a role in a human death.  Jodon finally falls asleep struggling to decide if today was in fact a great day after all.

Mijira is happy to have a room to herself. She valued her privacy and was glad that it worked out in that way for her here. Sleep finds her easy as ehausted as she was from her dealings.

Dathyra: Wendel doesn't move very much while the elf examines him, but he watches her work. Finding no tales of anything she would be able to aid the man with, she gives Wendel a warm smile. At least he seems physically okay. When Dathyra finishes, Wendel takes her by the hand to catch her attention. Their eyes meet and he tells the elf, in words and with his look - no, his very being - "Thank you. Wherever you have come from or whoever you are, thank you." He doesn't tarry very long after that, content to rest through the rest of the night. He snores when he sleeps this time, but his snoring is light and soft - something Dathyra can use as a focus. Her meditation comes much easier after the exchange.

Jodon: The halfing has more than he's used to to worry about, which makes it hard to fall asleep but when darkness closes around the world, Jodon is comforted by dreams of a resounding heartbeat. Peaking his curiosity his mind wanders towards it, but only for a moment. His physical body stirs, but calms immediately as his dreamlike self is wrapped in a warm embrace. Warm doesn't quite explain how he feels and the halfling wonders if this is what a child in a womb feels like. His thoughts fall away, unimportant and Jodon finds himself ready to meet the challenges of this new day in the morning.

Holg: It truly is a night for great rest. Sleep takes the half-orc within a couple minutes of his head hitting the pillow and morning finds him rested in full, ready for anything.

Mijira: While the rest is enough to ease Mijira's exhaustion, sleep is anything but good for the dragonborn. Fitful nightmares of demons coming out of the shadows of her room wake Mijira more than once, the worst being a tentacled monstrosity that got its misshapen form around her neck, cutting off her air supply. The dragonborn had woke up from that coughing and sputtering. When the light of a new day pierce the window, casting a sliver of light across the dragonborn's bed, she knows she needs more sleep, but it would have to wait.

Breakfast itself had gone on without much conversation. Most of them having not eaten since early the day before, food seemed to be a key priority. Dathyra was thankful that Wendel had been untied after the night. She didn't exactly care for Holg's plan, but had to admit it was safer, and as he had told her, for her own good. She was tired of hearing that: It's for your own good. Everyone seemed to use that as an excuse to make decisions on her behalf: her brother, Father Uridan, and even her mother. She wasn't a child anymore, and she wished they could understand. She knew the half-orc's efforts came from a good place and were meant to protect her, so she at least tried to be understanding.

"I think if we could meet this Kelbin again, that would be helpful. At the very least, he seems like the only person who may be able to give us some insight into the letters, and possibly the relic we found inside the undead creature. He seemed like a fairly religious man. He might know. If not, we'll have to figure out what sort of work we can do here in the city to get any leads, and to prepare for our return," she said.

Jodon wakes early, as is his custom, and goes for a walk to explore his thoughts as he explores the town.  He is troubled at how little he is troubled by the events of yesterday - he can still see Brin's piercing eyes lock with his own, then go wide with shock from energy arcing from Jodon's own hands.   I had no choice, he thinks to himself, and I made no choice.  I panicked.

The thought comforts him, and, as he walks, he sees little things, broken things here and there.  Jodon mends them for the sleeping village, his mood improving step by step with every repaired crack, until he finds himself back at the Tapped Keg.  He takes his breakfast with the others, and finds no surprise that Dathyra leads with useful suggestions.  When she speaks of a return, Jodon recalls exactly what he did to channel that bolt of energy through Brin.  Could I do that again, this time intentionally?

He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Mijira stares at the strip of sunlight for a long time before sitting up in her bed. She was tired and there were only more trials ahead. It felt good to slip into her chainmail again. The dragonborn performs her morning ritual with more attention than usual since it was rushed yesterday. It's not fair to these people that I be around, but I will see these cutthroats stopped, she thought to herself. She wraps the box up in her bedroll and puts on a face of determination before heading out for breakfast. She had to at least appear like she had it all together. Throughout breakfast she kept quiet content to listen and roll along with things. She wasn't great with making decisions, but she could spearhead a charge with the best of men.

"I think I would like to meet this Kelbin also. If he is wealthy, then maybe he possesses some power within the city."

Wendel eats his meal aside from the party alone, but within sight. He looks lost in thought through most of his meal, which he doesn't ever finish. The man's color has returned, though he still bears a bit of dried blood in his ears as remnants of whatever terrible thing he experienced. When it looks like his liberators are about to leave, he comes over to the table, stopping for a moment to place his half eaten plate on the bar top. His steps are full of resolve as he starts across the room, but each step seems to add a little more hesitance. He begins with a cough, "Uhh. A moment please. I know that I wasn't in the best of positions when you found me, but I was wondering what your plans were for me here and now? I do not wish any of you ill will and I have no intention of rejoining that crew-" He winces, unsure of if he had said to much already. Apparently okay, he continues, "I want to help you, but there are means in place that prevent that. I don't wish to be arrested either though..."