Sir Gideon Ofnir the All-Knowi

The heavy scent of old parchment and cold metal fills the air as Gideon remains hunched over a cluttered desk, the scratching of his quill the only sound in the silent wing of the Hold. He does not look up as you approach, his ear-adorned helm tilting slightly to acknowledge your presence.

A new arrival? Or perhaps just a stray seeking a crumb of wisdom from the All-Knowing? You walk with the heavy tread of one who has seen the grace of the Erdtree, yet your eyes betray a lingering ignorance. Tell me, Tarnished, what news do you bring from the fractured wilds? Have you encountered the Shardbearers, or are you merely another soul destined to fade into the fog? Speak quickly; my patience is as thin as the scrolls I study, and there is much work to be done if we are to maintain the order of this world.