The Hollow Grove: The Companions [Book 2]

[32] A New Suit

Otis put the finishing touches on an old Donkey cart he and Wesley scavenged in the mine.  It took some laboring and he had to put some of his limited carpentry skills to use, but there it was affixed to Thûndar like it was made for him.  By the 'tween hours they were ready to mount up, but decided to sit for a rest to bandage wounds and snack on rations.  Wess ignored his shoulder injury from days ago, and Otis ignored his arm and nagging knee.  It was hard work, adventuring, but it was always worth the bumps and bruises.  Scars were proof of their wild stories around the fire and the table at the pub even if there were the slightest of exaggerations.

The two friends knew that hauling the cart of Silversteel plates back to Sweetwater would take much longer than yesterday.  Because of this, they started out just before morning and arrived back in town long after nightfall.  They assumed no Highwaymen pursued them because they were not on the main trade route and they were thankful. 

The boy, Henrik, waited patiently as they unfastened the Donkey cart (covered with canvas cloth to avert prying eyes) near the Smithy then took their Kudaki's to the stable with their thanks and reluctant tip.

They wanted very much to sit at one of the Inn's long tables, but didn't feel like fighting with the innkeeper. Instead, they sat in the chairs in the darkness waiting for the god, Panadahe to arrive.

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"Back already."

The voice scared both Otis and Wess awake from their nap.  It was barely dawn when the god materialized from the forest behind them.

"Yes, we have the steel, my lord," said Otis with his head low.

"Ran into a bit of trouble though," said Wess.  He explained the archway, the green light, and the pale monster that stepped forth from it. 

Panadahe rubbed at his chin buried under his red beard.  "Curious."  He walked over to the cart muttering something to himself, lifted the canvas cover and nodded his approval.  "Slayed your first Demon then?"

"Demon?" asked Otis. 

"There are no more Demons," said Wess.

Panadahe cocked his head and raised a brow.  "You still believe do you?  That is good.  Means they are doing their job."

"Believe what?," asked Wess.

Otis asked, "Who's doing their job?"

"So many questions," said Panadahe.  "The Elder god works in mysterious ways!"  He picked up two of the steel plates as if they were dinnerware and stacked them next to the forge.  "Light her up and get her hot would you?" he eyed Otis and pointed to the forge.  "Much work to do."

Otis started the fire. They placed three Silversteel plates in the forge and Wess worked the large, accordion-style bellows giving the forge the air it needed.  Once bright orange, the god of creation went to work, but not with a hammer as one would think.  He flattened and smoothed the metal with his bare hands. 

Panadahe held up a red hot sheet of Silversteel and announced, "Step closer, Guardian, if your faith holds true."

Otis knew what the god was asking, but wasn't sure what he wanted.

"Drop your gear save for your Gambeson and stand before me," the god assured him.

Otis unfastened his war belt and let his attached pouches, warhammer, and skinning knife drop to the earth.  Then he stepped up to the large Dwarf god, his faith now everlasting.

"There we are," said Panadahe, "hold still now." 

The god pressed the hot Silversteel against Otis's chest, forming it to his figure.  Otis didn't move a muscle and not a wince of pain was seen.  The quilted jacket did not catch fire as one would imagine.  The god withdrew a simple iron rod from his pocket and with a few flourishes, Otis' chest cuirass with a few faulds was formed.  He let go of the hot steel and it slowly cooled from cherry red to a dull grey, staying in place on the live Dwarf mannequin.