Neverwinter Forest Each morn we are born again

sólhárr let her words wash over him, the calm cadence of her voice grounding him in the moment. he watched her with quiet reverence, the flicker of moonlight catching in her lavender eyes like embers of something divine. iruna spoke with a certainty that resonated with the depth of his beliefs, and for a moment, he allowed himself to admire her conviction.

you speak with wisdom, he rumbled, his tone low but steady, the faintest trace of approval warming his words. to see the gods' hand in what we do, to accept their guidance—it is not a path for the faint of heart. but you tread it well, wanderer. perhaps it was not by chance that you came to these woods.

he tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering on her as she stepped closer, her touch light and fleeting yet grounding. forneskja thrives because of those who choose to serve it, to believe in its purpose, he continued, his voice softening. the gods have brought you here for a reason, and i will not question their wisdom.

a pause, the weight of his words settling. sólhrárr’s gaze flicked to the canopy above, the máni’s glow casting a silver halo over their shared space. you are strong, iruna. in spirit, in purpose. and if you wish to devote yourself to this place, to these woods, then you will find no shortage of ways to serve.

he turned his gaze back to her, his expression steady but open. what is it you seek most in your devotion? what is it that drives your steps? he asked, his voice carrying a quiet curiosity, a genuine desire to understand the depths of the woman who now stood before him.