Neverwinter Forest said he was a sailing man

Luhtar glanced at Catamaran, his yellow eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the bounty hunter’s neutral tone. There was something about the way the words were spoken—carefully balanced, lacking the warmth or conviction he expected. It didn’t bother him exactly, but it made him pause.

“Yes,” he replied, his voice slower now, almost cautious. “Long time. I knew him before I could hunt. Before I could fight.” He let the words linger as he shifted to mark another tree, his movements deliberate, almost mechanical.

His gaze turned forward again, scanning the path ahead. His steps were steady, but there was a certain weight in the way he carried himself now, as if speaking about the past brought an old heaviness back to his shoulders.

“You ask about Sólhárr,” he began, ears swiveling to the whistle of the winds as they went, “But what of you? What are your intentions here, in Forneskja?”