Know what I dream of? A quiet forge, nothing but the sound of the bollow-fire and the hammer's ring. No oaths, no bickering. That's the day I'll finally make my own work. Until then - mending helms and sharpening swords. I'll manage.
“When I was young, the Tuatha stormed Erathell - they broke into Rathir once. I still remember the fires and their ghastly armor. Those fires took the southern docks. It's called the Llosgiad now, "the Burn."”
