[It's such a blunt question in the manners of the Elflands that Celehar is momentarily taken aback, reminded in ways of Anora's prodding and steadfast friendship. It strikes him with a pang, the realization that his death will grieve his friend.
How he is here, surrounded by strangers who would not speak intimately with him.
He does his best to brush it aside, looking around the space of the makeshift shrine. Need is right, in this sense - there's more important things here, and while her help is appreciated, the true matter at hand is the words the voice had spoken into his - and everyone's it seems - head. He watches her in turn.]
It... is a simple decision. The toll must be paid.
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How he is here, surrounded by strangers who would not speak intimately with him.
He does his best to brush it aside, looking around the space of the makeshift shrine. Need is right, in this sense - there's more important things here, and while her help is appreciated, the true matter at hand is the words the voice had spoken into his - and everyone's it seems - head. He watches her in turn.]
It... is a simple decision. The toll must be paid.