ushernet Chapter 298: 302 Armor Workshop
Chapter 298: 302 Armor Workshop
Chapter 298: Chapter 302 Armor Workshop
“That problem can wait until later.” Lancelot spoke, “When do we leave?”
“We set out tomorrow morning if everyone is ready,” the Elf Prince scanned the group, “It will take us a full day to get to Pascaler, and we’ll cross the Hoffenstan River under the cover of darkness. Then we’ll rest in caves during the day and travel by night, aiming to reach Gaomendikolia within five days. There, I will contact local spies and decide then on a plan to infiltrate the fortress.”
“Alright.” Lancelot nodded, “Everyone get a good night’s rest, we’re going back to sleeping on our bedrolls after this.”
The response was a round of good-natured laughter. To Acheron’s surprise, the group he was looking at, about to embark on a very dangerous mission, still maintained such an optimistic attitude. Clearly, these people were either fools, or they were true adventurers, and the latter seemed more likely now.
“Cough cough, there’s one small issue,” the Elf Prince cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention once more, “I need to do some ... modifications to your armor.”
“What do you mean?” Alamir clutched his chest, “My armor is in very good condition ...”
“I have no doubt about that, but I want to make them more suited to the environment up north.” Acheron beckoned the Dwarf bartender, “Dag, take these friends of ours down to visit your cellar, I need you to add a bit of ‘decoration’ to their armor.”
“Really? That’s great!” The Dwarf bartender drew back a panel on the bar, “Let them in. You don’t mind tending the bar for me for a bit, do you, Prince?”
“These hands that have slain countless monsters should be able to hold a glass steady,” the Elf waved dismissively, “Put their tab on me for tonight.”
“Oh wow!” Bruto, who had been sleepy-eyed a moment ago, suddenly widened his eyes, “That’s really generous! I think I’m starting to like you, Elf!”
“Haha, I hope you’ll like the things you’re about to see even more.” A smile spread across Acheron’s face.
Lancelot raised an eyebrow, curious as he followed through the bar, leading everyone down an unusually wide staircase into the cellar of the Dwarf tavern.
“Occasionally I don’t mind trying a different style,” Lancelot shrugged, starting to remove his shoulder armor, and Bruto and Alamir followed suit, “It’s all for the success of the mission, isn’t it?”
“It makes you look like one of those bandits who rub elbows with Ogres or Orcs,” Kalalin said gleefully from the sidelines, “Known by intimidating names like ‘Ripper’ or something.”
“What are you waiting for?” Dag looked seriously at Kalalin, “You take it off too.”
“Me too?” Scholar jumped back, startled, clutching his chest, “I can’t cast spells with all that heavy stuff hanging on me...”
“Ah, you don’t need that,” the Dwarf bartender dove under the workbench and pulled out another box, “I’m going to dress you like a Warlock, now look at what I’ve got... which style do you prefer, Goblin or Orc?”
“Is there a difference?”
“Goblin style highlights include a shawl made of Goblin fingers, a cloak made from a whole Goblin hide, and a necklace of dried Goblin heads,” the bartender held up a necklace to show the Scholar, the small Goblin heads about the size of apples, “While Orc style features a necklace of Wolf Fangs, lots of bird feather decorations, and a cloak with a bear head hood...”
“Give me the Orc one,” Kalalin said quickly, “I happen to know a Goblin...”
“As you wish,” the Dwarf shrugged, “Leave your armor here and go back up for a drink, and by tomorrow morning, they will all look brand new.”
“Disfigured might be a more fitting description,” Kalalin sighed, resignedly taking off his coat and then being the first to walk out towards the steps they had come in on.
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