"Yes! I swear I don't know how he managed it. Whenever he was at the forge or the anvil? I've never seen such natural, confident movements, or such an instinct of how to work the metal. Then he'd finish, put down his tools and go trip over the nearest whetstone he could find."

He shook his head, then his smile faded and he got down to business.

“We wished to honour him, his friendship, and his talent. Do you know what became of the armour you wore on the night of the battle?"

He remembered the armour as if for the first time. Trying to recall that night in full was a difficult task as his brain didn't seem to have the processing power it had when he'd worn the ring. Only certain parts could be recovered at any one time, and he'd almost completely forgotten about the armour he had made that night.

“I remember it, but I haven't seen it since I woke up."

“Do you remember how you got it?" Tragoth's curiosity on the matter was evident in the way his single eye glinted almost hungrily.

“It was the ring. I put it on after I'd gone to look for my practice armour in the training glade. After the fight with Rolk, I took the metal from his armour and the ring kind of melted it down and reforged it to fit me." He had to stop there, but lifted a hand to show Tragoth he wasn't finished speaking as he tried to recall something. "That's it! Yeah, after the armour was on me I remember I also melted down some gold and put it inside the armour. It ran through the metal like some kind of circulatory system."

“I knew it!" Tragoth clapped his hands in excitement.

“Gregory, you somehow made yourself a suit of imbued armour. That is a very, very rare thing. The secrets to it have been lost for centuries."

"Cool." Gregory waited a beat. "What's imbued armour?"

Tragoth blinked in surprise.

“You've never heard of it?"

“Nope. I'm still pretty new around these parts."

"It is..." The orc stopped and considered for a moment how to explain the concept.

“Metal that is good for armour does not work good or powerful magic, yes? Iron is bad. Gold and Silver are good. The black metal we use is a kind of iron, but it is worked into a stronger metal that retains magic better. Though it's still not nearly as good as gold or even bronze."

"So you're saying I made something with the best of both worlds? It's got the durability of orc metal, and the golden veins and arteries I put inside it let it carry magical energy?"

“Exactly that! The work is so fine that the suit now bears a tremendous amount of magical energy. You could have gotten hit in the chest with a spear-tip mounted on the end of a battering ram and you wouldn't have even moved."

“Wow. Ok."

“The only problem with it was that it wasn't suitable for wearing. It was forged only of metal. I don't know how you wore it without tearing yourself apart at the joints. So, we asked to examine it and affixed the necessary elements for you to wear it properly. The armour was sized to fit you, and we might need a few adjustments, but all in all we are confident in our work. The moment I saw it I knew that if Torren saw such a creation gathering rust he'd have broken out in a cold sweat. So I thought it might be a good idea to finish it in his name."

"Oh." It was Gregory's turn to blink in surprise. "Tragoth, that's amazingly kind of you. Thanks. And thanks to the other smiths. Given the amount of times people have tried to bludgeon, skewer, slice or crush me since I've gotten here I'm pretty damn sure I'll be glad of it."