This being a report of a conversation heard one day in the town of Trestlebridge between two friends sitting on the stonework of that hamlet's namesake bridge.
Freddie sat down on the parapet, her legs hanging above the abyss "Would you tell me something, Feaandir... how many times have you been to Fornost before?"
The lore-master took up his pipe weed pouch and opened it. He took his time in answering.
"Twice."
