Neverwinter Forest Each morn we are born again

sólhárr’s gaze lingered on íruna, thoughtful and searching. the seer’s words hung between them, heavy and yet carried with an ease that only she seemed to possess. he exhaled slowly, glancing toward the canopy above, where the light of the máni filtered through the branches.

i don’t know, he admitted, his voice low and steady. the gods… they see farther than we do. know more than we ever could. but whether they call us to where we’re needed, or simply where they will us to be, i cannot say.

his glacier eyes returned to her, softened by contemplation. i only know that i am needed here. the forest, forneskja, my people—they are my purpose now.

he paused, the faintest crease forming between his brow. and you, íruna? do you believe you are where the gods wish you to be?