This blade is not old, nor is it renowned. It means alot to the one that bears it, however, and can be very deadly if used properly.
You might think this is just crippled man living in the woods, but he has been through alot more than you would think.
A soft smile and good nature hides this mans true intentions.
Resting in tree branches and picking his teeth, this creature wastes the day sleeping or walking across the country side.
A simple leather harness covered with an odd assortment of axes.
Not everything apears to be what it is. Orcs were once elves at one time…
Ansgar is a Rohirrim (Same race as the Riders of Rohan)that wanders aimlessly along roads and paths mearly to see the world or to patroll… depending if he is employed or not. He usually sings or whistles while traveling and is quite formidable looking while riding his meara.
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...