The monk waits until well after midnight for the halfling to arrive... and eventually, sleep wins out, and the monk's eyes fall closed. He's confused, and the weight of the elf's request is weighing heavier and heavier as he worries if his new ally has been wounded somehow... but he can do no good if he's too fatigued to stand on his feet come morning, and he doesn't fight sleep when it comes.<br/><br/>The next morning, he makes a beeline towards the dining area, hoping to ask the bartender if there had been any sign of the mage-woman last night... only to see the woman sitting at a table and waiting for him. And surrounded by adventurers, at that.<br/><br/>"Hm..." The monk sits down in relative silence for a moment, leaving the stews untouched as he ponders how to approach this situation. Obviously, he's glad that the halfling didn't get herself hurt over the course of the night... but he's also confused, and more than a little frustrated after yesterday. Eventually, it's the latter emotion that wins out.<br/><br/>"Did ya decide ya weren't too comfortable meetin' up in a new acquaintance's inn room after all? An' what's the deal with all these damned people? It's like a madhouse in here..."