Jodon faces Wendel.  "Are you certain," he asks, as his eyes visibly flick to the dried blood visible on the man's ears.  "We appreciate your bravery, but, better than anyone, you know what it almost cost you."  While waiting an answer, he Messages to Dathyra "you brought him back once.  Can you do it again, or could you or temple compatriots shield him from or remove this curse?"

Holg sits quietly enjoying the last of his hearty meal. Despite the good night's sleep, he appears a little more green than his normal skin tone puts on. Feeling a little lightheaded and low of energy, Holg senses that he does not have the capability to press Wendel for information. Nor does he have the energy to question and direct the team towards their next plan of action. With a simply cough and subtle exhale, he sits and listens to the conversation, awaiting to follow the group in whatever direction they may lead.

"No, no, of course not. None of us would think of having you arrested. We were just trying to avoid you being further punished by whoever cursed you. But...how exactly did you want to help? I'd hate the thought of whoever it was that harmed you doing further damage to you."

She didn't mind the brief mental intrusion. Her brother had used similar means to communicate with her about serious matters when their younger sister was within earshot. "Removing the curse? No, I know of no way to do so. There are a few small things I could possibly do to give him the best chance of being protected, but I would need a few things to make that work. I do have a shield handy he could use, if anything else."

Wendel looks unsure of how to continue as he replies to Dathyra, "I - I do not know. Perhaps I can wait here or maybe - I don't know. I just want to make myself available should you find a need for me."

"You have helped us already, at great cost," Jodon says to Wendel.  "We aim to stop those who have cursed you, but, until then, we cannot protect you from the curse itself, and we would not have you endanger yourself again."  He pauses, unsure of how to proceed.  "Likely, we must go back, to the tunnel below where we found you.  I am going to ask you about it, and I want to be absolutely clear -- if you have even the slightest hint - any thought at all - that answering will trigger this dark magic, *do not answer me*.  Say nothing, and tap your foot on the ground only.  This tunnel - where does it lead, and what is it used for?  Are there any wards or traps we need to know?"

Mijira places her shield in front of her chair and props her forearms on it. She was intrigued by what this traitor might know, but she wasn't sure what this curse was exactly. It sounded bad whatever it was and she didn't want to see the man hurt, but he had put himself in this situation. 

Wendel thinks for a long time before he does anything at all. His eyes shift from Jodon to Dathyra, then back to Jodon. The fear on him is plain to see as he fidgets and sweat beads on his brow. He sits down in the nearest chair not far from where he was, still close enough for a quiet conversation and puts his head in his palm, thinking. He stiffens and, for a brief moment, the halfling and elf almost expect Wendel to have another seizure, but he looks up with a smile, easing any fears of that. "I think I know of a way. I need to collect some things from the market for it though. I can be back in an hour or so. Will you be here then?"

Jodon lets out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.  "I think we can wait an hour," he says, looking to his three companions for confirmation, "but are you sure a trip to the market would be safe, alone and without escort?"  Nodding at the still-evident injuries and exhaustion plain on Mijira's face, "there may be more mundane forces at work trying to harm you, or us."

Wendel pats the air in front of him in a calm down motion. "I'll be fine. I can go where I want to. I've been to the market many times. I'll be back as soon as I can be." He smiles at the halfing, apparently feeling proud of himself that he can finally do some good to correct the path his life was leading him down. With a nod to Jodon and an awkward look to Holg, the man leaves for the market.

Jodon smiles at the departing figure.  "It's good to see him on the mend.  Speaking of which..."  He stands, then shrugs at his companions.  "We have an hour to fill, I may as well be useful.  Innkeeper!" he calls, as he goes off in search of people who may need minor assistance, proprietor and guest alike.

Dathyra had to admire the halfing's go-getter attitude. She had never met someone so genuinely dead-set on helping everyone in sight, and it filled her with a sense of inspiration. In the meantime, she noticed the quieter members of their group. Holg didn't look too well, and perhaps either before they went back to Kristoff's or after they got back, she might have time to provide him a remedy. She was also deeply concerned about their newly acquired companion. She had noticed the bruising around her neck all through breakfast, and it made her wonder if Mijira's quiet demeanor was a survival instinct. If it was, then that was particularly sad.

She moved to the seat directly across from the dragonborn. "I suppose you haven't had a lot of time to really get familiar with us. Just how far away from your home are you?"

Seeing there was time to spare and the odd halfling had gone for a while Mijira saw no harm in sharing a little. She rubs her thumb and index fingers together watching them as it there was a meaning to it. Her accent slips a little more thinking of home as she spins her tale, "I still remember the sand as if I were there right now. Everything was always covered in sand. There was sand on everyone and in everything in Calimshan. The desert has been known to be unforgiving and I tell you now that much is true. I grew up on those desert city streets as an orphan." She smiles. "Don't you dare pity me for that. I would not have it any other way. The streets taught me how to depend on myself and instilled a sense of worth in the smaller things in life. All to often people forget about things that are right in front of them as they bump along in life. After learning what I could from the streets I came to call the local blacksmith shop my home. It was a good life...That is all. And you? Where are you from?" It doesn't take much to see the tragic pain of a past too difficult to manage in Mijira's 'good life' statement. There was something there she was trying to cover up, but something wrong was in her eyes plain for everyone to see.

Once the barkeeper, Hugo, realizes what Jodon is after, his attention fully turns to the diminutive creature. "If you're offering, I've got more than a few things ye can fix around here." He grabs up a ring of keys and heads off, room by room, to point out random things that need fixing around the inn. Each time something is magically repaired or altered, he gives a hearty laugh. "You wizard types are something else; never can tell who is going to have what kind of power."

Dathyra gave her an earnest smile. She could tell that Mijira wasn't being entirely truthful, and was probably hiding some past trauma. But, she decided not to press further for the time being. There were proper times and places to be insistent and to push others to face their demons, she knew from experience, but now wasn't one of them.

"We always find our way in the world, even if it isn't the way we expected. At least, that is what the Dawnbringers of old teach us. I am grateful your path has led you to us. I am from Sundabar, though High Forest was the place of my birth. I have lived in the city for quite a few years now. Raids had destroyed my original home, and we found refuge in the fortress-like city. I have served in Lathander's temple there with my siblings as thanks for their protection. Though, I hope one day it might be possible to return to High Forest with those few of us who remain to resettle. For now, I have been sent on charity missions on behalf of the temple, and I stumbled upon this opportunity."

"I have never been to these places you speak of. My path has kept me in the south." Mijira's mind wanders away from the conversation wondering what these places look like. She imagines Sundabar to be a place full of elves high above the trees. The dragonborn wasn't very worldly and perhaps it was time to change that. 

Forty minutes or so tick by before Hugo is done with Jodon provided he doesn't object. He tells the halfling that he always has a place to stay at the Tapped Keg should he need it, provided they have the room to spare.

Wendel still hasn't returned yet when fifty minutes tick by - an hour - an hour and ten minutes. He should have been back by now according to his estimate, which is worrisome. Not knowing his plan of action creates another problem for the party. He could have just ran into a problem collecting whatever it was that he was leaving to acquire. He could have went back to his gang related activities. He could have been kidnapped by said gang. There were too many variables to guess at what really happened, but the fact remained that he wasn't here now, leaving the party to decide their next course of action without whatever aid he claimed to be able to give them.

Jodon returns to the table, feeling energized by having accomplishing something.  Seeing his companions present, but without Wendel, his brow creases in confusion. "I don't understand...Wendel *said* he'd be back in an hour."

Mijira shrugs and says, "I'm still not sure he was ever on our side. How can you put that kind of faith in someone you do not know? Should we go look for him?"

"It could be that he is just late, but I don't feel like this is a good sign. We probably should have been more insistent that one of us accompany him."  She understood Mijira's skepticism. "I don't feel that he has betrayed us. He really seemed like someone who was just unfortunate enough to get caught up in this mess by accident. But, where would we even begin to look? We have no way of knowing if he even made it as far as the market. Unless there is a way to track his movements, I'm not so sure."