Neverwinter Forest when the curtains call the time

my grandmother, íruna begins, a small, fond smile tugging at her lips, was a woman of great strength and even greater expectations. she held pride in her own way—quiet, but firm. seeing me become a shield-maiden, as she was, fulfilled something in her, i think. it carried her legacy forward.

she studies pangur for a moment, noting the flush of her cheeks, the humility in her laughter. it is endearing. íruna’s voice softens further as she speaks again. perhaps you are not a warrior in the way i was trained to be, but that does not mean you lack strength, pangur. courage comes in many forms, and the gods see it all.