Afraid
Sir William looked around without deciding on any armor in particular. Anvyl, the blacksmith, came from the back with a shell that, in his view, could be the taste of exquisite customer.
- too ostentatious, perhaps, dear Anvyl.
- is lightweight and durable. Allows great mobility and has a delicate gold filigree with the motive of the two dragons with heads cross, the shield of his fief.
- but is it already, you see, look for a battle armor.
- What battle?
- Yes, more suffering. Just always end up smeared with mud, blood and ashes.
Anvyl opened his mouth and closed it again several times without making any sound. Sir William was the first noble Afraid I knew who disowned his own flourishes range. It was normal to abuse the precious metal, very malleable, but very resistant. Usually it was the excess trimmings, heraldry and surnames stamps families linked to "de" for more rank. And feathers. They loved to wear feathers in the helmet. And color. And raptor feathers of majestic eagles or hawks fierce. No. I asked feathers of pheasants and peacocks. They liked to ride on horses decked out and full of colors and decorations of attracting the attention of the enemy from hundreds of meters away. And now Sir William Afraid came and said he wanted an unadorned armor:
- More battle, then?
The noble donned his velvet gloves, wearing wide-brimmed hat, bade farewell to his humble blacksmith:
- Yes, dear Anvyl. Something that works. Not shred with a sword. Something that allows me to go unnoticed.
Anvyl The good was surprised himself with tears of excitement down her cheek. Finally going to get the job of his life.
- Hector prepares the forge!
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