lady of sorrows, guide us.

"Just going to tell me what you're into outright like that, huh? Without prompting? Without properly propositioning me? Exotic druidic men that wear leaf skirts?"

To her question, no, because he could stand around questioning her for hours if she constantly gave him the fuel for it like she....KEEPS doing. But, it would certainly be a waste of time to anyone else in their group.

"Shadowheart, I'm..." Gods, she doesn't even have the energy to lie well.

Her hand moves up to rub at her eyes again while her tail curls around her own leg, making her appear a bit smaller against the other. Fuck... She had hoped these nightmares had subsided by now.

"Terribly unwell?" Shadowheart said for her, looking back, attempting to both make light of the situation and express the gravity of it at the same time. Kore was their leader, and while Shadowheart didn't agree with everything she said or did, she still wouldn't wish ill on her. Kind of shocking to find herself caring for someone beyond wanting to make sure they were still battle-ready.

She was directing her to lie down on her larger pillows inside of her tent while she lit some very strong incense that was meant to produce a smoky, calming scent that helped others sleep. It might have been that Kore was beyond that right now though, any little bit helped. "Yes, I did find that I'm missing a few pillows, actually. Now, at least I know the culprit. Feel free to weaponise them against a nearby Githyanki when she starts sharpening her sword at dawn."

"Don't threaten me."

Kage says with annoyance, seeing through the ruse almost instantly. He does exactly what she's done to him so many times already and pokes her on her tiny little cheek just to goad her a little bit further.

"Mate, if you weren't wearing clothes and occasionally using some big words here and there, I'd just assume you came from the wild. Not in the exotic, druidic way either," Shadowheart commented. There was nothing to lead her making this observation, but finding a man with his ass in the air with half of his body tipped inside of a well was certainly not in her cards.

"Indeed, I am. A Paladin of Devotion, who serves Bahamut to be precise." He says, fist over heart. That much of himself he was still sure of. Shadowheart mentions anger and impulse...he knows how hard those emotions seem to be flaring even right now. But where do they come from, and why does he feel this sensational urge to kill, kill, kill, kill, KILL- He quiets his own mind before he loses himself.

"I heard that oath is most difficult to uphold," Shadowheart remarked with a look of one impressed by the others' circumstance. She watched his resolute pose of the paladin. He held it dear to his heart, she could see, but she found herself morbidly curious if he took upon that oath for a reason.

"I suppose intention and action taken are blurred then, are they?" Shadowheart pressed him a little. She didn't know him well enough to have knowledge of what inclinations he was suppressing and where his mind was going. Perhaps she would know soon enough with the rest of the party.

"With a little nuance, yes I suppose I have," She admitted, thinking on the spot it was best not to lie. He was offering his counterpoint after all, but it was only fair she offered hers. "However, I can't say I've willingly walked into a literal mine field, either."

. Their conversations were few and far between, and Halsin didn't exactly feel shame about the way he tended to cut at Shar's disciple during their time wreathed in Shar's "blessings". Being back in the Shadow-Cursed lands, with an acolyte nearby, had set him on a kind of edge he hadn't felt in a hundred years.

But the apology caught him off-guard, and there's a shift, expression gentling some. It was... hard, sometimes, to feel sympathy for those indoctrinated by Shar, but to pretend that Shadowheart hadn't made an impossible decision would be willfully blinding himself, giving into a kind of ego he tended to believe himself beyond.

"I'm honestly surprised you all didn't say anything to me sooner. The reverence I had toward any of those jaded precepts," In particular, Shadowheart recalled Malus Thorm within the House of Healing, the doctor who had gone mad alongside the many nurses at his side. She still hadn't quite gotten it out of her head, the image of him using one of his long scissored fingers to so casually ... puncture and gouge the eyes of his still living victim.

MYSTRA WATCHED THE YOUNG CLERIC CLOSELY. Partly curious and partly bemused all at once.

"Are you saying that were it not for this deal you would simply walk away from all this devastation caused by the absolute?" she asked, eyebrow raised at Shadowheart.

From what she had seen, that certainly hadn't seemed like something she would do - and what need did Mystra have to make a deal with someone who was already going to do something? It made no sense.

However, Mystra liked her vigor, her determination. It reminded her of herself when she was mortal.

... she had seen her own chosen's doubts. She needed someone to make sure what needed to be done would be done.

"Can you swear you will do whatever it is that needs to be done to take out this threat? No matter what or who must be sacrificed in the end to allow this threat to come to a finish?"

"Certainly an option, isn't it? Apathy? Even to my own detriment and doom to live out the rest of my days as a soulless illithid. That's one way of freeing myself of Shar too. Even mortals on this plane can be petty," said Shadowheart and she was mostly referring to Shar herself and how even after Shadowheart had already taken from her what leverage the Night Mother had on Shadowheart, still she persisted.

Shadowheart made mention of this, but it would truly be a last resort and this solution was still likely to have Shar have the last laugh. "I can swear that, yes. I don't wish to resort to such measures. I rather ... like this city ... and those I've come to travel with. More than I thought I would, anyway. "

Her head turned over her shoulder, an instinctive way of indicating her companions. They usually always stood so close to each other. This must really be one of the few and far between instances in the journey that she was really facing a God alone ... and it could so easily be the last with the power Mystra held. It she felt jilted at all, would there even be anything to stop her from ending someone she deemed insolent?

even now he could not escape the moon,   the way it hung above them so innocently and shining prettily in his silvering hair.   “menzoberranzan is all the way in the northdark,”   he said at last,  taking a long swig from his bottle.  this drink he felt with a rush and warmth in his limbs,   though his gait did not halt.  “that would take   ...”   he shrugged.   “weeks.”   he supposed.  he realized he hoped that was the case.  

For the most part, she found Sol to be a very unreadable person. It was like a blink-and-you-miss kind of interaction. He clearly didn't trust her that well yet, or maybe not at all. It made sense, she hadn't proven to be the most trustworthy person in the camp, in fact, one could make a good argument that no one was as defensive about her business than she was.

The reason Shadowheart thought of this was that she found herself curious about why he was this way ... what his past was ... what his history with his home was and why there seemed to be such a bitter bite in his tone. The more he clammed up, the more she wanted to know. With permission, of course. Nothing was going to be coerced from him without him aware of her intentions.

She spoke this thought aloud, testing the waters perhaps. "Sol'rys, I would like to spend more time with you. Alone, like this. Please tell me if anything I've been asking of you has made you wary or uncomfortable with me. But I rather like your company. Even though you frown quite a lot."