'Yes, that's right. Here. Now. We've provided you with everything you could need. There are baths in that alcove. Please, feel free to make use of whatever part of the space best suits you. At least once the altar would probably be wise. You'll find you can't leave the sanctuary, I'm afraid. The goddess wants you here. I'll take my leave.'

[The elf goes on as if he is talking about nothing more complicated or sensitive than the weather.

Orym meanwhile has begun to turn a vivid shade of red and is very pointedly not looking at Dorian for the moment because he will probably spontaneously combust.]

Look, this isn't--

[But the halfling only gets half a thought out as the elf suddenly vanishes.]