What you've no doubt heard is correct. I am the Holte Frenn, I forged Bolgan's Bane of the Caeled Coast, and many other legendary pieces. My youth was spent as a mercenary, but I have since renounced those ways. Unfortunately, my enemies have long memories, and they aren't as forgiving as I am.
“You've been watching me long enough. What is it? Did I wrong you in another life, sister?”
“If you're willing to spare the gold, I can teach you what I know. In this battered old skull is a lifetime of knowledge, and quite a few stories, as well.”
“It is an ancient Alfar kingdom far across the sea in the dense swamps of Klurikon. I once helped its great lords overcome a terrible bolgan... problem.”
“I don't care to stay in one place for too long. Felltown sounded like a good opportunity, and an even better hiding place. I can't say the Peace Edict has hurt business, but it's not exactly easy to train students in blacksmithing without weapons around.”
“It's as good a place as any, I guess. But after a while people begin to remember you, and for someone like me, that's a problem. I prefer anonymity. Besides, could there be a better place to hide from this offensive war? The only weapons you find in a garden are the blades of grass.”
“Ha. Let the Fae try to stop me from carrying arms in the city. Weapons are my trade, my only expertise. I would be like asking a hen to stop laying eggs.”
