The Throne of the Gods

Perperation

Ayrion's armor shined, Danneci had spared no expense in having the armorer repair and restore it. She had purchased him new weapons to replace those that he had neglected during his self-imposed exile of three weeks. New clothes had been made for him; too better fit his leaner frame. Boots of black leather replaced the nearly soleless ones he had worn and kidskin gloves of matching black covered his hands. A dark grey travel cloak with a deep purple interior completed the outfit.

The man who stared accusingly out of the mirror looked more like a Knight-Captain than a simple knight. Allydon's symbol blazed like the sun upon the breastplate of his highly polished armor. It felt like a rebuke, and it might as well be, here he was a knight of the holy order of Justice allied with a soul-stealing sorceress. Had he fallen so far? Did it even matter? He and the sorceress would soon be rushing off to take down a would-be-robber-baron and over two-hundred heavily armed bandits alone. What a farce.

Across the room Danneci smiled. While the tailor, cobbler, armorer, and innkeeper had danced to her instructions she had watched with that satisfied little smile. Her appraisal, as always, was very forward.

“You cut a very gallant figure,” she said approvingly. Even though he knew her to be centuries his elder, a beautiful woman's approval was always welcome. He had a hard time fighting down the flush of pleasure that rushed into his body.

“So I'm to walk into their camp and impress them into surrender?” Ayrion's sarcasm was thick. He turned to face the woman. “Even in this finery I cannot take out two hundred men.”

At some point during his transformation Danneci had changed as well. She now wore a gown of deep purple much like the interior of his new cloak. It clung to her torso until her waist at which point it flowed toward the floor, missing by only an ankle's height. She had on a pair of black leather boots as well. Around her neck was a pale emerald that flashed when she moved. Her smile was brilliant. “Of course not,” she said. “We will impress them into surrender.”