Neverwinter Forest and no sun

callyope was swift approaching on steps that hardly seemed to make contact with the ground, rather as if she were gliding towards him akin to a spirit, a ghost. seiðkona, he murmured in response, giving a formal bow of his head. a simple moment that was not meant to be shared, a time where the two of them could convene in their lonesome.

i wish to discuss with you, came the guardian's weary voice, heavy, rough, akin to his limbs, his fur. he felt as if there were river rocks within his toes, his arms, his stomach, waying him down endlessly. drawing in a breath, the lorekeeper says: i think i may have some sort of ... ailment. uncertain of what it may be, he went to her for guidance.