Visit the local temple, since you're clearly cursed.

There are a few gods worshipped in the city of Neverwinter, but chief among them is Helm, the Vigilant One. As the god of protection, his followers are your best choice for dealing with whatever this thing that haunts you is. A demon, perhaps? A hateful god? A sign of severe psychosis caused by hitting a hammer against an anvil for years on end? They would surely be able to help.

Dismay fills your heart as you walk down the street, your feet slowing down beneath you. A whole queue of people wait in front of the temple, nursing a variety of conditions. You spy a few men with bandages wrapped around their arms, a child sniffling while hiding behind his mother's skirts, and one incredibly distressed woman clutching a chicken to her chest. The Temple of Helm only has a few clerics skilled enough to cast restorative magic, and the ability of the locals to injure themselves far outstripped their ability to heal.

It seems like the line is longer than usual today, however, and you spy an argument occurring not far from the entrance to the temple. An older gentleman wrapped in dark blue robes is talking to a woman dressed in full plate armor. The symbol of Helm is emblazoned on the woman's armor, making it clear what Order she belongs to. She is probably a Paladin of Helm.

"-and you can't stop me!" the woman yells, agitatedly, and storms off in the other direction. The older gentleman just sighs, rubbing the back of his head through the hood of his robes.