Neverwinter Forest rikkefaul

sólhárr’s lips curled into a faint smile as velia pronounced the word successfully. good girl, he said warmly, a note of approval in his deep voice. her eagerness to embrace his language pleased him, and he inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment of her effort.

when she asked about máni, his gaze softened, a glimmer of reverence flickering in his golden eye. máni, he began, his tone steady and reverent, is the light that is shed upon us. she is the moon, the mother of all our spirits.

he gestured upward, toward the faint glow of the moonlight spilling across the water. she watches over us, her light guiding our paths, even in the darkest of nights. máni is both protector and nurturer—she is the essence of what binds us to this land, to one another, and to our ancestors.

his gaze returned to velia, the weight of his words settling in the air between them. her light touches all things, he added, his voice quieter now, almost a murmur, and through her, we are reminded of who we are, where we come from, and what we must protect.

he watched her for a moment longer, curious to see how she would take in his words, the reverence of máni woven into the fabric of their lives.