Neverwinter Forest warden

always.

the listener tasted peace, delicate and fleeting as a thin dusting of snow.

you will know no peace in this life, listener.

the illusion shattered. the listener drew away, beckoning. the unnamed god waited for none; grim's initiation would begin now. through the woods she weaved, taking her sworn guardian to that place where she had gathered the crushed remnants of morgana's offering, bundling the mushrooms in leaves marked safe by the speaker.

the listener disappeared among the foliage for a few silent heartbeats, and emerged with the leaf-wrapping.

spirits call, they explained, hushed, when they had laid the bundle before the keeper. you will rest after. you will need it lurked heavy behind the words; no work of magick came without cost.