Long has this bell marked the time at our keep, but as you can see, it was ill used by dragons and has been silent since.
Others of this keep have naught but praise for your work, adventurer. I wonder if you are the ideal confederate for this enterprise... Will you assist me in repairing the bell?
We need a goodly amount of metal, and arms damaged in battle are in plentiful supply. Yet, 'twould not do for one dragoon to ask another for his arms. Will you collect them and take them around to Tuatkk the smith?
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You want what? Oh, to repair the bell! I cannot well recall its peal─I was still falling off chocobos when the dragons cleft it thus. Here, will this do?
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Ha, repairs are to finally move forward! Metal hither, metal thither! Take it, take it away and let the anvil ring!
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You seek a smith? What can I do for you?
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Repair the bell? Ah! A worthy endeavor, 'specially with such a shadow as this over Whitebrim Front. A dragoon must needs see and hear what he fights for, or the heart'll go out of him.
There's more than enough metal here to cast a new clapper and make the other repairs. I'll start as soon as I'm done hammering out this breastplate. Tell Ser Liautroix that we'll make this place ring, will you?
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Tuatkk said this? The Fury bless him, to see it as I do!
Ishgard is at war, and we hoard our resources with an almost...Dravanian avidity. All must fuel the crusade, while removing as little from the battlefield as possible.
We at Whitebrim Front live between the anvil of winter and the hammer of the dragons. We have been tested much, and not found wanting, I believe. This is our keep and our home─it must have a measure of beauty, else it becomes a gaol.
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