Neverwinter Forest well, I won't make it out alive

It was a large woman who emerged from the depths of Solharr's woods. The bounty hunter's coral gaze traced appreciatively over the length of her legs before he remembered himself and let his eyes drop to the floor between them.

"Yes," he agreed, feeling naked without any honorific with which to address her. But it was instantly more comfortable than his time here had been thus far. Here was the woman who commanded them, and she stood as tall as he in this forest of men. Supplication came easily to him, though it showed only in the subtle dip of his head.

"The hárkonungr instructed me to seek your aid," he told her, his voice hushed and respectful. "There is a woman here with a broken leg. He said that you would pray for her."

It rankled him to be involved in any sort of prayer, but this had been a direct order from Solharr. Now, he would receive orders far more willingly from Callyope. This, at least, was his pleasure.