"I've brought Skullcrusher back, Uncle. All these years, not a day has passed that I haven't thought of returning it."
"I was too young back then, always trying to prove to you that I could become a true Warrior even without pure Dwarf blood. I took the axe to the Northern Territory and fought for more than a decade. I went through hell and back to earn my place—not for glory, but just so people would stop calling me 'half-breed'."
At the words 'hell and back' and 'half-breed,' Bolin's anger dissipated.
In his youth, he too had roamed the world with his warhammer on his back; he knew the weight of the honor a Warrior earned through blood and sweat.
Ola seized the opportunity, his tone growing urgent.
"Uncle, I came back to ask for your help! I need three Dwarf wind crossbows!"
Bolin, who was wiping a mug, froze. His gaze turned serious.
"Wind crossbows are restricted items. What do you want them for?"
