Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-29461586-20150429063943/@comment-6006054-20150506231756

Within his changing stall Ekrun removed his left pauldron, looking for a second at it. The steelplate was covered in rust, dents, cracks, and memories. He let it drop to the floor. He sighed, and started undoing the wraps of chainmail that served as his right pauldron. The chainmail was rusty and torn in places, time and use had broken the steel links, like they broke all things. Then the alarm bell rang. The shouting began shortly after. Ekrun left the partially unwrapped mail as it was, and snatched the pauldron up from the ground. He fastened it, grabbed the ebony dagger, and jammed it into his belt. He did the same with the ebony sword. He could see the enchantment, could tell what the nearly imperceptible orange ripples meant. Fire. He felt a slight pulse of fear at it. Fire ate away at all it touched, and Ekrun knew what a madman could do with such a destructive thing. He steeled himself, and left the sword in his belt. He pulled the ebony gauntlets over the remnants his pre-existing steel ones, expertly adjusting the fit to allow it, stripping the gauntlets down to simple bracers. The hand and finger parts would have ruined his dexterity, and he didn't have time to remove the intricate leather ties that kept his steel guantlets on and together. Ekrun entered the courtyard with claymore drawn, and due to his recent acquisitions, plenty of backup weaponry to choose from.