“Gods, I feel so much better after a bath and a meal,” Freya said, a grin plastered on her face. Her long, dark hair was still wet and was pulled tight behind her head in an intricate braid. Eres had sat behind her and combed and woven the strands together after they had eaten, something they had done many times before, but he noticed more than one person giving him a strange look for it. He shrugged it off, deciding that if Freya didn’t have a problem with it, then neither did he, and considering she had bugged him to do it, he was pretty sure she didn’t have an issue.
“Oh, so my stew wasn’t good enough, huh?” He teased, poking at the ex-maids ribs. His silver locks were also tied back from his face, though he had kept it more simple than Freya’s braids. He had a single braid along either side of his head, tied into a ponytail that kept the top half of his hair up. He had taken to wearing the style after he saw his future self wearing something similar, and he found he liked it. It was comfortable and kept his hair free of his face without being restrictive.
“I mean, the stew was good, but that was special. Whoever is in that kitchen has harnessed whatever makes homecooked food special, I'm telling you,” Myla said, one hand resting on her stomach. They all had gone in for seconds, but Myla was the only one who had gone for a third helping. Her shorter blonde hair had already dried, and now that they were back out on the street, she was keeping a lookout for their destination. The girl behind the desk, who had introduced herself as Sara when Eres had asked, had pointed them through the town centre and towards the other side of town when they had asked about an armourer.
They were searching for a place called the Hydall Smithy, but they were taking plenty of time to look at other shops and places they could visit while they were in town. Sara had also let them know that there was a Guildhall here and that they did have the facilities to register adventurers, but it was closed for market days, so they would have to wait a while. That suited Eres just fine, gave them time to look around and time for him to think of ideas for the presents he was planning on getting.
“Oh! There it is!” Freya pointed at a sign in the distance showing a crossed hammer and sword and began to pick up the pace, “Come on! It looks like it is still open. Let's go and see what they have!”
“Was she this excitable when she was with you in town?” Eres asked Myla, not even trying to keep the grin off of his face. They could hear the ring of steel against steel echoing out from inside the shop and see what looked to be the glow of a forge casting its light out into the back of the lot.
“Nope, this is new,” Myla laughed and shrugged. “I think she is just finally letting loose now she doesn’t have to worry about it blowing back and her losing her job or making you look bad, you know?”
Myla picked up her pace to catch up to Freya, but Eres paused for a moment, stunned. Was that true? Had she been so reserved just because she was looking out for him? He shook off his surprise and followed along, grin still firmly in place.
It's good to know she has always been looking out for me, Eres thought, even if I do feel bad she couldn’t be herself. Just got to give her opportunities to be whoever she wants to be from now on.
By the time he joined Freya and Myla inside the shop, the ring of metal had stopped, and a burly man was walking towards them. He was huge, taller and broader than Eres, with a thick black beard and long black hair tied back from a soot-smeared face.
“Well then, what can I do for you young folk?”. His voice rumbled out of him like a peal of thunder, and it took them all a second to realise what he had asked. Even through the shroud of the beard, Eres could see a good-natured smile wide enough to show a glimpse of teeth.
“We were told that this shop did work as an armourer as well as more common smith work?” Eres said, stepping forward and holding his hand out. “My name is Eres, It’s a pleasure. We were hoping to get at least some armour for all of us. Either custom work or resizing any pieces you currently have on hand.”
The man wrapped Eres’s hand in his giant mitt and pumped it up and down, his smile growing wider. “Ah, young adventurers, is it? I don’t have too much on hand currently, but I am always happy to work up something custom. More interesting than orders of horseshoes, nails and kitchen knives, I can tell you that!” he said. Eres could feel his chest rumble with the low growl of the man's voice. “Well, let me know what you think you need, and we can start sketching up some ideas. I warn you, though, custom work isn’t cheap, so I will bring out what I do have so we can see about repurposing it for your needs.
“Oh, and excuse my manners, I get caught up in the work sometimes. I’m Gregor, and this is my shop. I was just putting my tools away, but we can sit and discuss your needs and draw up some designs tonight and look at prices and timelines.”
“Sounds good to me, Gregor,” Eres said and gestured at his friends. “This is Myla. I think she will need the heaviest armour, but she knows her own needs far better than me. And this is Freya; I don’t think either of us know how you usually go about armouring those in the backline, so we might need you to help inform us there.”
***
The conversation with Gregor didn’t take very long. He was adept at understanding their needs and moving to fit them, but they did have to be rather up front about their fighting styles. The decisions made were about what Eres had expected, with a few surprising caveats.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
For Myla, they had commissioned a full shirt of chain mail, vambraces, gauntlets, a plate heart guard and a set of greaves. She wanted to stay lighter on her feet than someone in full plate so she could still get back to protect us if she ranged too far forward, and this was the compromise that Gregor came up with. The heart guard and greaves had been at his insistence since a lucky crossbow bolt would cleave through even the best mail armour, and many monstrous beasts would harry the legs to bring their opponents down.
For Freya, the order was simpler. He would get a set of robes and lay in armour strips to help them turn aside a blade, as well as a thinner and lighter shirt of chainmail to put underneath. Eres had been surprised to learn that too much armour could interfere with channelling Mana or Divine Power, as he had never had that issue when training with Master Brom, but both Freya and Gregor swore it made the process harder. Freya also needed specific hand and body motions for some of her more powerful miracles, so it was imperative she had a full range of motion.
Eres’ armour was the part that they struggled with the most. While learning to fight, Eres had learned from a Battlemage, and as such, that was where his inclinations lay. His Blessing helped with all sorts of Mana control and various defensive spells, but it didn’t do anything to help him with physical combat. That was why he had Brom train him so hard over the years, to try and help bridge that gap. To let him protect his allies not just from the back with shields and wards but with his body and weapon when necessary.
It took some back and forth with Gregor, as well as double-checking with a few pieces of spare armour that he could channel mana even burdened with it, before they settled on armoring him as if he were a speed-focused brawler. They commissioned another chainmail cuirass like Myla’s, along with solid vambraces and greaves. He decided not to wear gauntlets, as while the armour didn’t seem to impact his Mana, spellwork was still much harder with his hands covered.
With all three of them needing various pieces of custom work, the price Gregor laid out wasn’t cheap, coming to nearly 8,000 Leons total. He seemed shocked when they didn’t bat an eye and paid for half of the work up front, with the rest to be paid upon completion of the armour, something that shouldn’t take longer than a week.
By the time they waved goodbye to the giant bear of a man and got back out onto the streets, night had well and truly fallen. The moon was nearly full in the sky above them, and a few flickering lamps were the only other light they had to guide them back the way they had come.
“You didn’t need to pay for it all, Eres,” Freya complained for what felt like the tenth time at least. “We were given the same amount you were, so why did you have to go ahead and pay?”
“Freya, we have been over this. This adventurer thing was mostly my idea, and I dragged you both along with me. Yes, you were willing and chose to come along, but if I wasn’t doing it, you probably wouldn’t be here,” Eres grunted, shoulders slumped in exasperation. “The least I can do is make sure we set off on the right foot and make it less likely for you to get hurt.”
“I know, I know,” she grumbled, bumping her shoulder into his. “I don’t have to like it, though.”
“No, you don’t, but if you keep asking, I am going to start making up outlandish stories about owing you my honor and sing them in front of a local bard to see if it gets picked up and spread around. So zip it.”
“Zip it? What does that even mean? And there is no way you would-”
“What’s this then? A lovers spat?”. The voice that drawled out of an alleyway a little in front of them was scratchy and rough and made Eres think of broken glass grinding together. “You gotta be nice to the ladies, mate, or no matter what coin you are payin', they won’t put out their best effort.”
The man that stepped out into their path might as well have had the word Criminal written in giant red glowing letters floating above his head at all times. He wore what looked like piecemeal leather armour in dark browns and greys, covered by a long cloak with a deep hood, although it was currently pushed back to show his face. And what a face it was, pale and pockmarked with a pair of long scars dragging down one cheek and snaring the edge of his lip up into a permanent snarl. The teeth that showed were blackened with rot, and his eyes were rheumy spots underneath a mop of greasy black hair.
Eres had never seen someone who screamed Bad Guy so obviously.
“Well, if you don’t know how to treat ‘em, we will take ‘em off you ‘ands,” the criminal said, face widening in a sickly smile as he gestured behind their backs. “Along wth any coin you ‘ave. Hand that over now, friend, if you know what's good for you.”
Glancing behind him, Eres saw four more men dressed in similar attire. All were dishevelled and dirty, but they were also wielding knives and daggers. They were poorly made and maintained, edges chipped and blades marked with rust, but that wouldn’t matter much if they were slipped between the ribs of an unsuspecting mark.
“So wait, this is… this is actually what you do?” Eres said, trying to keep the laughter off of his face. “You wait in alleys for people to come out of the shopping areas late at night and jump them for their money? I don’t know how well it is working out for you. I reckon you might be in the wrong business. Knowing how to choose a mark has to be important, right? Yet you swing out in front of us, threaten me and threaten to take away both of my companions? Bold, and stupid, play.
“So, Freya, what are our rules and limits here?” Eres turned his head but kept the now-stunned criminal in the corner of his vision as he asked the woman next to him his question, all while beginning to move the Mana in his core up and through his body.
“They have threatened violence and theft. We can use lethal force if necessary, but don't destroy the street or any of the buildings.” Freya laughed, rolling her neck and shoulders as she loosened up, “Myla, try not to use the Greatspear; too easy to end up doing damage to the town.”
“Fine,” the blonde pouted, putting the polearm up against a nearby wall, “I shouldn’t need it for these lowlifes.”
“Well, there you have it, friend,” Eres smiled, but his voice dripped with venom. “I would offer you a choice here, but honestly, the hard way is the only way I see this happening.”
“What’re you fucks waiting for!” Screamed scar-face, “Kill ‘im!”
