Madadh's vision swam, an uneasy feeling starting in his chest and spreading outward quickly, putting him on the alert. He would have looked up, but the words on the page seemed to be drawing him in - no language he knew. The room around him faded away, leaving him suspended in nothingness, frozen, for... It was impossible to tell how long. It was like being unconscious: it could have been five seconds or five hours; a minute or a day. When he was able to blink again, he was no longer lying on the cot at the inn, but on a hard floor. In one smooth gesture, he had risen to his feet, hands clenched into fists in the absence of the sword that had been leaning against the foot of his bed.<br/><br/>At the gnome's words, Madadh relaxed slightly, recognizing the elderly (especially compared to himself) figure and accepting that there was no danger here. As the tiny man approached, Madadh crouched down, elbows on his knees, to be on a more even level with the gnome - though to be truly level with him he would have had to lie prone on the floor. His words were confusing; Madadh was not sure what sort of answer he was searching for.<br/><br/>"Among my people, a curse may be passed down through blood." he said when the others had spoken their piece. "To remove it one may make penance to the family that cursed them... But your words imply something else." He offered a slight shrug. Killing the family in question would end any blood-curse, but he did not think that was the answer the gnome was looking for.