Flint Ironwood.
Flint was slightly surprised. It had been Flogir who extended his hand, yet this Patholos had decided to shake his instead.
,,Weird guy, creepy fireworks as well. But the Harbinger of doom? Eww, this sounds worse than that Oblivion what's-it-called a few years back."
Flint withdrew his hand and turned around, gazing at the darkness of the woods around them.
,,He knows a lot, what if his desire to help is genuine?" He continued his train of thought and shivered slightly. For a moment, he thought one shadow looked out of place. A faraway howling made him shiver even more, especially when he noticed the moons.
,,Aw crap, werewolves. This is a bad time. Why can't we ever have a single moment without trouble?" He warned even though everyone had likely already drawn the same conclusion he had.
,,Look, I'm a smith so I can make whatever type of armour you like, as long as I have some raw materials to work with. Don't bother with a forge, a fireball works just as well." He told Patholos, still with his back turned towards the group. A slight gesture with his fingers, and everything that lived lit up with a magical aura. He noticed the odd shadow again. Now though, he could see it more clearly.
,,Someone's hiding nearby. Could it be Ian?" He asked out loud. Despite his expectation of seeing Ian, he still drew his blades.