"That doesn't look good... yet I agree with Lia. Let's rest, then head straight to town"

You eat some cold rations from your pack, not having the energy to relit the fire from last night, and continue your trip to Phandalin. Rhok guides you there safely, stopping from time to time to sniff out the air to find the best path.

You arrive in Phandalin a couple hours before sunset. Most people are coming back from their labours and heading for the Stonehill Inn to get warm food before turning in for the nigth.

The idea of an inn aglow with the warmth of the hearth and alive with smells of hot, seasoned food is a tangible dream for the dragonborn. Xarroth puts his back to the in and turns to the group... in particular, Rhok.

"I do believe we cannot allow these symptoms to go unchecked. Where do we go to get this," he points at Rhok's arm, "the correct attention? Perhaps the people who care for the shrine?"

"Agreed, let's go and check with the Shrine of Luck, and see if they can offer any ideas or suggestions." lia agrees.

Lothlién nods in agreement and leads the way to the Shrine.

Rhok nods in agreement "anything to keep me from wandering away at night and not recalling a thing would be most welcome"

You walk towars the shrine of luck. A single woman stands in front of it, neatly arranging some flowers. She tells you that she just likes to stop here every day to pray to Tymora, but that sister Garaele is the priest in charge "she left for Neverwinter a couple weeks ago to attend an important meeting with her superiors. She usually goes around this time of the year."

"It seems Tymora's favour remains with the priestess. Perhaps it may be best if we head to the city of Neverwinter? But I do not want to leave the town defenseless..." Xarroth then looks up at the woman, "Perhaps you can help us. We are in dire need of assistance. Our comrade has become afflicted with symptoms none of us recognise; he ran off into the night and is unable to retain memory of the night's events. Does this sound familiar to you, or can you guide us to a person it who would recognise?"

"Yes, I couldn't sleep, and the last I recall is being drawn to the moon shining high and full in the sky" Rhok adds "I also have these grey patches.." and he rolls his sleeves back

"What of the midwife?" Lia suggests to the others. "In the windmill. We helped her previously after all, maybe she would have some ideas on this."

The woman looks a bit confused at Rhok's arm "I don't really know about healing, mistress Adabra may help you, as you friend says. She should be in her home at this hour." She points towards a house a couple blocks away.

Adabra opens the door shortly after you knock "I'm glad to see you again, that mistletoe you gathered has helped me brew a nice stock of healing potion, should you need to buy some." After listening to the reason that brought you here, her face turns serious "that is not a normal wound. I would need to test something." She goes back inside and comes out holding a silver coin in her hand. She presses it against Rhok's arm and the ranger winces in pain, jerking his arm back. "You have a curse on you, it's not safe for the town that you stay here at night, bloodlust may overcome you."

"Very well; then we will watch him." The dragonborn turns to his comrades, his silver eyes stopping on Rhok, "we can stay away from the town, keep our friend in bindings, perhaps both magical and physical, to ensure safety. Lady Adabra, you know of any salves or solutions to help? We can retrieve ingredients from the wild, if we must.."

"Is there somewhere easy to keep him safe, away from the city? Maybe an abandoned building...?" Lothlién asks, kind of thinking out loud.

"If I am awake I can keep him from harming anyone, but I can't do much while I sleep." Lia speaks up. She looks to the midwife. "Can anyone here aid him, or should we seek help from a larger community?"

Rhok, wringing his arm from the searing pain asks "Last night was the first time this happened, I recall seeing this patch after we helped clear the dwarven mines from those cultists, so it's been a bit since then. Do you know what would trigger this curse?"

"I suspect a werewolf bit you, but I don't want to wait for you to transform to be sure." Adabra is alarmed, but still thinking straight "the safest way to go back to normal would be to find a priest or wizard and convince them to remove the curse. I'm not a spellcaster, but I may have read about a potion that may help you."

She motions for the four of you to come in and takes a thick tome from her bookcase, skims over it, and stops near the end "it is a difficult brew, and I would need some ingredients that I don't have here. Night Phlox flowers are the trickiest, they only bloom under moonlight, and it's almost impossible to tell them apart from other weeds during the day. Wolfsbane roots are easier, their purple flowers are common in the bushes south of here. The rest I have here, but I would need those to start."

The healer leads you back out, adding "keep him tied at night, and don't tell anyone, we have enough to worry with the dragon nearby."

"Where can we find these Night Phlox flowers?" Lia asks as they walk back outside. "You said the others are in bushes to the south of here. Is there a place you know the Night Phlox likely can be found?"

"Usually near the forest, they should have been in bloom last night, if you are lucky you may a few still blooming tonight." She answers "the flower is small and pale as the moon. The book I have says they smell like apples when crushed, but I would need them whole."

"I guess all we have to do is let the Townmaster know about what happened at Falcon's, and then we can go after the herbs, right?" Lothlién proposes to the group.
"Thank you for your help, Adabra. We shall meet again soon!" he says with a slight bow towards her.

"I think that plan sounds good, I can help search until nightfall, perhaps I will remove these new boots as well in case if I change to make it easier to find me" Rhok adds