A group of adventurers come across a child’s body on their adventures, odd being such a remote location. Their is no detectable sign of violence to the child, nor are their any signs of life. Suddenly the child opens its eyes, looks towards the group and introduces themselves to the adventures.
If this wasn’t odd enough, the child can’t remember where they are from, only their name and age. Stranger yet, the child has a tattoo on their right shoulder of a family crest, to a family that died out over 200 years ago.
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...