Two sages in one spot! thought Lokenth eagerly. Surely one of them can do it.
He'd had some trepidation about coming to the Dark Isle. The last time he'd been here, he was imprisoned by Arcaean troops. But the rumors all suggested these two sages were up here, and he was determined to seek them out.
But Evoro, while he could indeed repair the item, balked at being able to do it without one essential ingredient. And that ingredient was not incense, but a monster claw.
Denomwar, the other sage, carried a lute and sang songs. But he sung no different song from the one Evoro did. He demanded a monster claw.
"A monster claw!" Lokenth exclaimed, disbelieving. "I've killed hundreds and hundreds of the damn things, and I never thought to take one of their claws."
"It is a Bone Sabre of Blood, is it not?" Denomwar pointed out. "The claw of a monstrous beast is strong, and will shore up where this hilt is weakened."
That made some sense - more sense than incense, anyway.
But it was still damn inconvenient. And he could just see himself now - searching the mountains and forest glades high and low, until finally coming across one - and then the sages would be nowhere to be found. Then I'd find some other wise-ass who offers to repair the damn blade, if only I find for him the maidenhead of a whore.
"The quest of a hero is long and perilous, good man," Denomwar was lecturing. "If it were easy and quick, it would be a trifling matter."
"Repairing a sword is a trifling matter, old man," Lokenth replied angrily. "Or at least it should be. Fine. I'll get your damned claw."
He ventured angrily into the wilderness.
