G: Golden Weapons

“This is never going to work.” Nimble mumbled again, then grunted as Feris tightened the rope holding the breastplate in place.

“It will.” He pulled harder “but don’t move too much.”

“Feris, it’s more rust than steel, I’ve had butter knives sharper than this sword, and the helmet doesn’t even fit.”

“I’ve got some twine in my pack. Here, hold this.”

From outside the tomb the chattering of the goblins grew louder.

“They’re going to come through” Feris plopped the helm on Nimble’s head, looping the twine under his chin, and securing it on the other side. “I’d be better off with my daggers.”

“There are too many of them for just us, and we need to get Allianora and Rathgar out of here. Now, just remember, don’t move much, but be impressive.”

“Impressive? I look ridiculous.”

“Yes, but when they come through the door, you’re going to look like a god of war clad in gleaming golden armor. If I can manage it, you’ll sound like it too.”