You either love it or hate it

Zoltan observed the dramatic shift in Camlen’s demeanor, and a bemused smirk curled on his lips. The ancient mage had gone from paranoid recluse to reverent devotee in a heartbeat, all thanks to the sudden *appearance* of Sylaise through Megara. Zoltan, ever the opportunist, wasn’t about to let this moment slip away without a bit of amusement.

Ah, well, this took an unexpected turn, didn’t it? he remarked, casting a glance at Zevran with an arched eyebrow. One moment we’re pleading for our lives, the next we’ve got a goddess on our side. I have to say, the odds are looking better than they did a minute ago. His tone, though light, carried the weight of someone who never missed an opportunity to seize advantage in a delicate situation.

He stepped forward, hands outstretched in mock surrender. Far be it from me to interrupt this divine reunion, Camlen, but if Lady Sylaise here has vouched for us, I’d say that clears up the trust issue rather nicely, wouldn’t you agree? His voice was honeyed, the charm of a man who had talked his way out of many dire situations before.

Now that we’re all on friendlier terms, perhaps we could focus on the more pressing matter at hand: surviving. You, dear Camlen, have the benefit of ancient wisdom and a maze of defenses. We have... well, we have this charming little band and a goddess on speed dial. Together, I’m sure we could come up with a solution that doesn’t involve anyone’s hearth getting torn apart. He shot Megara a wink, fully aware of how surreal the situation had become, but playing along with the grace of someone who thrived in chaos.