Neverwinter Forest the void of a world

sólhárr's approach was deliberate, each heavy step cutting through the frost-laden undergrowth with purpose. the man, stirred at his movement, his single eye catching sight of sólhárr’s hulking form as he drew near.

awake, finally, sólhárr rumbled, his voice low but steady. he stopped a short distance away, his golden eye scanning his form, noting the tension in his frame despite the clear weakness that gripped him. you’ve rested long enough to gather strength. that’s good.

he didn’t wait for a reply, instead lowering his massive frame to sit, his posture relaxed yet commanding. you were at my borders, near death. my wife and i carried you here. i trust you remember why you were so close to meeting the gods.

there was no malice in his tone, but his words held the weight of expectation. he didn’t ask lightly—this man had been saved for a reason, but that reason was yet unclear.

your wounds are healing. you’ll recover, but your time here is not free. forneskja gives because it is strong. you will respect that, sólhárr added, his golden eye narrowing slightly. and if you wish to remain until your strength returns, you will offer something in return. now— his brow lifted slightly, the faintest edge of curiosity breaking his stern demeanor. who is this needle you search for? your lips spoke her name when we found you.

his gaze bore into the man with one eye, waiting, weighing.