The late morning and afternoon were a whirlwind of focused, tactical preparation. After eating, Torian ensured I met with Aethelgard’s Master Armorer. The Armorer was a dour but highly skilled dwarf named Grendel. He took measurements using a glowing, silver rod of light that curved around my body mapping every inch. Within three hours of our initial meeting, he returned with the finished product: a suit of scale armor.
It was crafted from interlocking plates of dark, flexible alloy that felt impossibly light. The armor covered my body from my throat to my knees. It was lined in silk and magically treated to be nearly silent. It hugged my body like a second skin, and I was surprised by how comfortable it was to wear. None of the armor the museum has ever acquired seemed comfortable.
“P
