Neverwinter Forest when the stars threw down their spears

"I'm sorry," Elk said at last, willing himself to awaken from his uncharacteristic stupor. His head turned toward Valiant; the other man seemed surprised by these words, for some reason.

"Your brother had just left, last time we spoke," he explained. "Now all this — I'm sorry. That does sound — tough. It sounds awful."

He did not ask after Valiant's daughters. He sensed danger in the exclusion of their names.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, though he hated himself for speaking such paltry words. He had been feeling that sort of thing a lot, lately. He hated himself, mostly, for the chance at happiness he'd lost himself. And now, for the horrifying possibility —

That Callyope might still be here, if he had been the one to marry her. If he'd abandoned his useless quest to stay by her side. If he'd been the one taking care of her, offering her love and companionship in these cursed woods...