Neverwinter Forest About how all her bones are broken

sólhárr’s eyes narrowed, though there was no hostility in their gleaming depths, only curiosity. the weight of her words stirred something in him, though he kept his expression composed, regal.

answers, he echoed, his voice low and steady. the gods lead us all, but they rarely explain themselves. he shifted slightly, his towering form cutting an imposing silhouette against the forest's shadows. tell me, seer, the word rolled off his tongue like distant thunder, which gods do you pray to, that they would bring you so far from your home?

his gaze lingered on her, sharp and probing, waiting for her answer. the weight of the máni hung above them, its pale light filtering through the dense canopy. it felt almost fitting for such a question, here in his woods, beneath the watchful eye of his gods.