Of course, the King of Evermoor's corpse was a treasure beyond measure in these parts.
With it, a master blacksmith like Rothwind could create perhaps the best masterpiece he might ever be able to produce in his lifetime.
So why would he ever give such a thing up?
The mayor just now came to grips with this, and realised just how much of a blunder he had made by trying to intimidate him into accepting his deal.
Rothwind saw the flicker of realisation pass through the mayor's eyes and shook his head, chuckling softly.
"You finally get it now? I don't need more materials, I don't need more power. You're trying to dangle a carrot in front of someone who's already sitting at a feast."
The mayor's fists clenched at his sides, but he forced himself to calm down.