Adventurer of Many Professions

Arya frowned, looking confused. "I don't quite get it. Isn't a fighter supposed to be a close-combat type? Shouldn't they be wearing iron armor if they're fighting hand-to-hand?"

Greytor, the dwarf craftsman, chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah, lass, fighters are different from warriors. A warrior relies on brute strength and can handle the weight of iron armor because it won't slow them down too much. Fighters, though, they're not about raw power. They're all about agility. Iron armor would weigh 'em down, make them sluggish." He tapped his head, as if hinting at a hidden wisdom. "A fighter's best weapon is their body; fists, feet, elbows, knees. They're fast, flexible. That iron would just get in the way."

"Leather armor, on the other hand," he continued, holding up a supple, dark leather piece from the rack, "is lightweight, strong, and doesn't restrict movement. A fighter needs to twist, dodge, jump, all sorts of moves that heavy armor would ruin. And as for defense… well, fighters have something special."

Arya leaned in, intrigued. "Something special?"

Greytor nodded. "It's called 'combat intuition.' Fighters have an instinct for battle. Their bodies react to danger before their minds even catch up. They dodge, block, and move almost on instinct. Leather armor works with that natural reflex instead of fighting against it."

"Oh!" Arya's face lit up, finally understanding. "So that's why leather armor is better; it lets fighters use their reflexes without holding them back."

Raymond's eyes widened in realization. He recalled last night, when Seth had lunged at him. His body had moved on its own, reacting without him even thinking, countering Seth's kick perfectly. And when Freya had appeared out of nowhere, he'd instinctively kicked backward, even if he hadn't made contact. That must have been his "combat intuition" at work.

But he still had a concern. "So, Greytor, does that mean fighters can only use their bare hands? No weapons at all?"

"Ah, good question, lad." Greytor smiled, clearly pleased with Raymond's curiosity. "Nah, fighters aren't restricted to just bare fists. They've got special gear. Take a look over there." He gestured toward a cabinet filled with gloves and sturdy boots. "Fighters can use reinforced gloves and boots. They give that extra punch and kick without weighing you down."

Raymond and Arya peered over at the display, their eyes widening. The cabinet was packed with a variety of gloves; some made from thick leather, others from a tough, silken material, each with slight protrusions along the knuckles and back of the hand. Next to them were long leather boots, some with reinforced toes and soles.

"Come on over," Greytor said, hobbling toward the cabinet on his thick-soled shoes. The clunky footwear made his steps awkward, and Arya stifled a laugh, while Raymond bit his lip to keep from grinning.

Once they reached the cabinet, Greytor began to point out the different options. "These here are metal-knuckled gloves, and those are leather gloves with steel reinforcements. And these silk gloves? Tough as iron but light as a feather, with fine steel sheets hidden inside. As for the boots, they're reinforced in the soles and toes, so a good kick from you could knock someone's teeth out without you feeling a thing."

Raymond examined a pair of silk gloves, marveling at the craftsmanship. The backs of the gloves had subtle ridges, hiding thin steel plates that he could feel beneath the material. "So the steel plates… they're built in to make strikes stronger without needing a blade?"

Greytor nodded approvingly. "Exactly! Fighters don't need traditional weapons. They use their bodies to strike, and the steel gives their punches that extra force. See those ridges? They're there so you can use not only your fists but also the back of your hand, giving you more ways to hit your target. If someone's attacking you from the side, you can slam 'em without needing to turn completely."

Raymond felt a surge of excitement. This was the perfect balance of protection and freedom he'd been hoping for.

"Mr. Greytor, can I try a pair on?" he asked, his eyes fixed on a set of leather gloves that looked both sturdy and flexible.

"Of course you can, lad," Greytor replied, giving a nod. "Just don't go pulling too hard on 'em, they're tough, but you don't want to mess up the seams before you've even bought 'em."

Raymond eagerly slid his hands into the gloves. They were smaller than they looked but stretched comfortably around his hands, fitting snugly against his palms. The leather felt smooth yet firm, and he could feel the hidden steel within, giving his fists a reassuring weight. Flexing his fingers, he realized the gloves didn't hinder his movement at all; in fact, they felt like an extension of his own skin.

Arya watched, impressed. "They look like they were made for you, Raymond," she said, her eyes sparkling with pride.

Raymond grinned, clenching his fists and feeling the power surge through his hands. These weren't just gloves, they were weapons.

"Well, then," Greytor said, rubbing his hands together, "seems like we've got a match. And when you're ready for something even more advanced, you know where to find me." He gave Raymond a wink. "Can't have a fighter without the right gear, after all."

Raymond gave a respectful nod, feeling more prepared than ever. With these gloves, he was ready to step into the world of adventuring, armed not with a sword, but with the strength and skill of his own fists.

As Raymond flexed his fingers in the snug leather gloves, he marveled at the range of movement they allowed. His fingers bent and extended effortlessly, each joint moving smoothly, without the slightest restriction.

'Is it the material itself that's so flexible, or is this because of Greytor's skill as a craftsman?' Raymond wondered, admiring the gloves.

Finally, he reached for the metal gloves. Unlike the leather ones, these had a unique construction, split into upper and lower halves. At the wrist, a small metal ring gleamed. As Raymond slid his hand in and twisted the ring, the gloves snugly closed around his palm. The more he twisted, the tighter the fit became, forming perfectly to his hand's contours. Even the joints seemed remarkably flexible, bending with his fingers as if they were an extension of his skin.

"These metal gloves… they're incredible!" Raymond couldn't help but exclaim. "It's like they were custom-made for my hands."

Greytor's face remained stoic, but the gleam in his eye betrayed his pride. For a craftsman, there was no higher compliment than genuine admiration from a customer.

Yet, as much as Raymond was drawn to the metal gloves, his enthusiasm dampened when he caught sight of the price tag. Fifteen gold coins! He swallowed, feeling the weight of his coin pouch.

The leather and silk gloves weren't exactly cheap either, with even the most basic pair starting at over five gold coins. Arya's eyes widened as she took in the prices.

"It's because adventurers need gear that can withstand real battles with monsters," she reasoned aloud. "The quality and materials… no wonder they're so expensive."

Raymond stared at the display, torn between the options. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. "Mr. Greytor," he asked, "are these gloves… magic devices?"

Magic devices were rare, powerful weapons crafted from enchanted materials. Known for their magical conductivity, these items could amplify the wielder's attacks significantly.

Greytor burst out laughing. "A magic device? You think I have shelves full of those? Boy, magic materials that can be forged into weapons are rarer than gold itself. They're priceless treasures!"

Raymond felt a bit embarrassed, realizing he'd asked a naive question. He was still new to this world and had only heard about such things from rumors.

Greytor seemed to pick up on his inexperience and sized him up with a keen eye. "Magic devices don't come cheap, lad, and frankly, I doubt you could afford one even if I did have one in stock."

Arya crossed her arms, lifting her chin defiantly. "How do you know we can't afford it? Or maybe you're saying that because you don't actually have any magic devices here?"

Greytor's face turned crimson, his pride stung. But after a pause, he raised his chin with a challenging grin. "Trying to bait me, eh? Well, lucky for you, I do have one in the shop, my pride and joy. I don't usually show it off, but for today, I'll make an exception."

With that, Greytor stomped up the narrow stairs to the shop's second floor. As soon as he was out of sight, Raymond winked at Arya, and she stifled a giggle.

Moments later, Greytor returned, carrying a heavy metal box with both hands. He set it on the counter with a dramatic thud, his eyes gleaming. "Prepare yourselves. You're about to see something most people only dream of."

With a creak, he opened the box, and the room seemed to dim as Raymond's eyes fell upon the gloves inside. They were made of a dark, inky metal that seemed to absorb light, as though it could swallow anything it touched. The surface was sleek, smooth as polished stone, but emanated a sense of deep power. The darkness of the gloves was so intense, it was almost hypnotic.

"This," Greytor announced, his voice low and reverent, "is crafted from Black Iron, a rare magical material. Every true magic device bears a name, given by its maker. I call this one… Grim Reaper."