Neverwinter Forest you're so art deco,

sólhárr listened with intent, his blue gaze fixed on rökkur as the man spoke. there was something stirring in the shadow’s words, a passion for both his stories and his faith that sólhárr recognized as deeply personal. he nodded slowly, encouraging rökkur to continue, his expression thoughtful.

beliefs are the roots of any strong tree, sólhárr said, his voice steady. and forneskja grows stronger when its roots are fed by many stories, many truths. he stepped closer to rökkur, his posture open yet commanding. i would hear your stories, rökkur.

he let the words linger, glancing at the pale blooms of mánilundur. faith is a gift, not a burden. your prayers, your blessings—if they can guide forneskja, strengthen her wolves, then they have a place here. no one voice carries the whole pack.

sólhárr’s gaze returned to rökkur, his tone softer now but no less firm. do not doubt what you can bring to forneskja. tell your stories. teach your prayers. the light may align with ours more than either of us realize.

a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. and as for my elska... she will listen, just as i have. she may have questions, but questions are good. they strengthen faith. he paused, letting his approval sink in before adding, this grove, this purpose—it is yours, rökkur. share it with us as you see fit.