"An exciting day, no?" Warden Anso asked as we marched back along the corridors.

"If by exciting, you mean terrifying and confusing, then sure," I replied, not bothering to remove the grimness from my tone. "I don't want to be here, so I don't know why the hell you think I'll be able to convince someone else from Earth to want to be here."

His smile was unwavering. "I think you'll be of more use than you realize, Adam."

Alarm bells rang. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

That creepy, knowing smile again. "Adam, there is a lot I'm not telling you."

He pulled to a halt and opened a door. As it opened, we were buffeted by the sounds of hammers falling, bellows pumping and the acrid tang of metal. We had arrived at the armory.

There was a team of five Archons and two Grunir. The Grunir worked the forge and didn't pay any attention to our arrival. All of the Archons stopped what they were doing.

One of them marched off with purpose, while the others hurried over to greet us. They all bowed with reverence to Warden Anso, and not for the first time, I wondered how powerful this man actually was.

After making their shows of respect to him, they all crowded around me as if I was the most interesting thing in the world.

One of them, a Level 31 Tradesman named Osil, spoke with excitement. "We have a full set of armor made for you, Adam Henshaw. It's not ready yet as we have to put your desired enchantments on, and make the minor adjustments that can only come with an actual fitting."

Apparently, a reply wasn't required as the four of them descended on me, measuring every inch of my body with merciless efficiency.

I looked at Anso, completely at a loss but he was already backing away from me. "Someone here will show you to your quarters when you're finished. I'll see you bright and early."

"Wait, what about…"

It was too late. He slipped out of the door with an annoying smirk on his face. The moment I gave up talking, one of the Archons held his leather tape measure against my face.

"Perfect!" he shouted, whipping the tape away in a flourish, and giving the measurements to another who scribbled in a note book.

"So, Adam. At your current level, you have two enchantments for each piece of armor. I'll also need to know your Harmony so that we can choose the right level of rune to inscribe."

"My Harmony's at 21."

"Beautiful. A healthy score for one so young! Warrior Mages are generally the most difficult to outfit as they need a full range of enchantments. Though often, depending on their world view, they tend to lean one way or another. Martial or magic. 21 Harmony suggests you are nicely balanced."

"I hope so," I threw in pointlessly.

My words found no place to land as the Archon pulled up a clipboard with a diagram of a full suit of plate armor.

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He tapped the legs with a long finger. "Legs, arms, and pelvis are usually enchanted with agility attributes to combat the restrictions of wearing said armor. Then you can choose for speed in the shoulders and feet, or additional strength. You should also know that while we won't be able to put both on now, this is the finest armor and will accept many more enchantments as you grow more powerful. The big question right now is, which ones?"

He was talking a mile an hour, and while I could follow, I still had to take a moment to run though everything he'd said again.

I took too long, and the armorer was off talking again. "We did get the copies of your reports sent here to assess your fighting style. From those, I deducted that while your ability with lower body maneuvers has improved recently, you are primarily an upper body fighter. For that reason, I would say strength in shoulders and speed in the legs."

Surreal though the situation might be, I loved the idea of getting actual armor from skilled smiths who specialized in its making. How often would I get a chance like this?

I immersed myself in the conundrum of what bonuses I'd like, and what would be best for me rather than just accepting his suggestion. What if I could take the armor and use it to help me escape? The Unalarans were built like brick shit houses. Adding strength to my shoulders wouldn't help at all if I got tied down. But speed would on multiple levels.

Cementing my decision, I caught the armorer's eye. "Speed for both."

"Very good, Adam. Very good." He etched a note on the diagram.

"Moving on, there is the matter of your breastplate. I suggest a magical defense enchantment that will provide a resistance against magical attacks. It's efficacy varies on the power of the attack. As for recharge time, from empty to full, it takes ten minutes."

"Sounds good," I replied, barely understanding half of what he'd just said, but understanding he knew what he was talking about a lot better than me.

"And for your final breastplate rune? Do you want another physical attribute amplifier? Speed, strength, agility? Or perhaps a magic amplifier which will provide you with a 10% boost to Mana every ten minutes?"

I didn't even need to think that one through. So far, I suspected that Spirit Burst and Spirit Strike would be the best weapons I had in my arsenal. One shot with Spirit Strike should put even decently leveled fighters to sleep.

"Magical amplifier," I said, much to the armorer's surprise.

Still, his head bobbed in agreement. "Good choice. Finally, for the helmet. Here things become limited. This provides additional stats for the full armor set. It will provide a full damage report on each connected piece, and also a regeneration scale for magical enchantments. It has the innate magical resistance provided by the breastplate rues, and it is a robust helmet, but it will provide no other benefit at this stage."

"That's fine by me," I said as a rattling sound caught my attention.

As it drew nearer, the Archon who had run off at the start of the meeting returned, wheeling a meticulously polished suit of golden plate armor on a trolly.

I gasped. "How can you afford to use so much gold for armor? And how is it strong enough?"

The armorer laughed. His four friends laughed, and the two Grunir at the forges laughed.

Then he answered the question. "Alloys my dear, outsider. Do you have no knowledge of metallurgy? There is perhaps one-tenth gold in the armor. While soft, when used correctly, it offers excellent tarnish and rust resistance amongst other properties. There are a range of other metals in the armor, each providing specific qualities, blended in a state of perfect harmony with one another. The most abundant metal is…"

"It's all right, I believe you, and I'm impressed."

The armorer beamed and began removing the helmet from the rack. As he did that, the others all removed different sections, and before I knew it, I was getting armor buckled onto my body, with dexterous hands used to the task.

I felt deeply uncomfortable as I answered a torrent of questions regarding comfort, chafing, binding, and flexibility, but the ordeal didn't last too long. Before I knew it, I'd been armored, unarmored, and thoroughly quizzed.

The lead armorer stepped back, dusting his perfectly clean hands off. "That's it. You're all done for today, Squire Henshaw. We will be along to your room in the morning with the completed armor ready for your first mission! How exciting."

Funny how PTSD can be triggered. My last first military mission was to protect a scientific research base in the middle east. Look where that got me.

As I was led from the armory by one of the Archons, I shook my head and smiled to myself. There was no way it could turn out that bad again.

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