The forest of HalÃ«fas is a strange place indeed. It has long been inhabited by the forest elves, a race of elves descended from the high elves that have lived for over 9000 years isolated there. This wood is patroled by a groupe of expert rangers who know the forest well, Tred lightly and unthreateningly here for you may find your end in Hathil’S arrow.
The accepted mode of getting otherwise unobtainable information is to go visit the cranky old hermit living in the mountains. It's just the sensible thing to do. So, naturally, everyone takes their monthly excursion to the hermit's hovel to consult him on everything, from lock-jaw to lovesickness, necromancers to nasal viruses.
Now, if everyone's always visiting the poor old hermit, there's going to be an enormous queue... "Wellcome to the Hermitt's Hovele, Please Take Ye a Number and Have Ye a Seate" reads the sign outside the packed dwelling.
Imagine the poor hermit, having retreated into the mountains to escape this precise situation...