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MET Dark Epics: Plate Mail
Health Levels: 3
Negative Traits: Heavy, Clumsy
Concealability: N/A (will use mask)
Availability: Any plate mail generally must
be custom ordered, and it can cost upwards of $3,000 or more.
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Shortly after sunset on Tuesday, June 1,
Gutter came out of the sewers and went to a phone booth in downtown
Gutter
thumbed through the phone book looking for the right entry. He spent almost an
hour impatiently paging through. The street was fairly empty. While he looked
only one person bothered him. It was a drunken homeless man who asked for spare
change. The homeless man looked rather
uneasily at Gutter. Gutter was masked and wore his normal trench coat and
hip-waders. With the mask the outfit looked like an Armani suit with poorly
fitted suspenders. Gutter was rather tall though, so even masked, his height
was disturbing to this half-drunk street dweller.
The
man said, “Sir, spare some change for a man who’s down on his luck?”
Gutter
told the man, “I have no change, leave me alone.”
“Please
sir, I’m trying to start over.”
“You
should start by giving up the drink.”
The
man sank down onto his knees pleading before Gutter. “Sir, you’re right. I’m
so, so weak. I failed my family and now I even fail myself. Please sir, spare
some change and I’ll try to make it right.”
In
a commanding voice Gutter said, “Fine. Here is $20. But be warned, if you dare
to spend it on booze I’ll make sure you regret it FOREVER. I’ll be watching
you. I’m always watching and you’ll never know when I’m around.”
Gutter
handed the man a twenty. The man burst into tears. “Thank you sir. I won’t let
you down.”
“Good,
now LEAVE ME.”
The
man said, “Yes sir,” and left.
Gutter
finally found what he was looking for (OOC: R/L equivalent to
http://www.boldo.com/armory/instock.html). His index finger paused at an entry
saying: “Roderick Loch’s Armory: Fine Replica Armor and Weapons. 555-5148, 123
Street Name,
Gutter
took out his cell phone and added the number to the phone’s directory. He had
his cell call the number. The phone rang four times and then a gruff male voice
said, “Welcome to the Armory! Sorry, we’re out in battle right now. Please
leave your name, number, and a brief message and we’ll get back to you
promptly.”
At
the beep Gutter said, “Hello, I’m interested in getting some plate mail armor
made. Please call me when you get the chance. My nighttime phone number is
555-1234.” Gutter thought for a moment then pushed the end call button. Gutter
skulked back to his home in the warrens.
The
next night while he was admiring his “collection” the phone rang. He answered
the phone after seeing that the caller I.D. said “Roderick Loch’s Armory.” Gutter
said, “Hello.”
“Um,
yes, hi,” said the same voice from the recording. “This is Peter of Roderick
Loch’s Armory. Did you leave a message about needing plate mail armor?”
“Yes,
that’s correct. Can you make me a full set of plate mail?”
“Yes,
we can do that.”
“Excellent,
when can you have it made?”
“Ah
. . . well, we need your measurements first. We also need a small
deposit.”
Gutter
asked, “OK, when can I visit your store?”
“Well,
our weekday hours are
“That’s
too early for me. I’m very . . . busy during the day.”
The
voice said, “Well, we are closed on Sundays but we’re open Saturdays until
“That
works, I’ll be in on Saturday at
“OK,
see you then, bye.”
“Bye,”
Gutter said as he hung up the phone. He put his phone in his pocket and then went
back to enjoying his collection.
Gutter
arrived at the store promptly at
The
store was rather sparse. It had no security cameras. It had a plain counter on
the left with a cash register. In the back there was a door and a small
curtained booth. The store had glass display cases filled with armor and
medieval weapons. There were axes, maces, broad swords, short swords, spears,
and daggers. There were several pieces of armor displayed, including helms,
gauntlets, cravats, and vambraces.
Gutter
approached the man and said, “Hello, I’m interested in buying some armor.”
“Yes,
are you the one I spoke with on the phone?”
Gutter
nodded affirmatively.
“Excellent,
I’m Pat. This is my store. It’s named after my SCA name. What specifically
would you like?”
“A
full set of plate mail armor.”
Pat’s
jaw dropped as if Gutter had just made his day. “Really, well, let’s get you
started.”
The
man spent some time helping Gutter select the specifics for the suit of armor.
When they were done, Pat said, “I’ll need to get your measurements. You’re
awfully tall.”
Pat
rummaged through a drawer in the cashier’s counter and retrieved a tape
measure. When Pat approached Gutter to take the measurements Gutter said, “Let
me do that. I’m not comfortable being touched by your k- . . .,”
Gutter stopped himself then said, “I don’t like men touching me.”
Pat
gave Gutter an odd look and then shrugged. “I understand. I’m a bit homophobic
myself. Here you go,” he said, handing the tape measure to Gutter.
Gutter
followed Pat’s instructions to get the measurements. When they finished, Pat
said, “Well, that should be it. I’ll need a deposit to get started.”
“How
much will everything cost?”
Pat
shrugged. “Probably $3,000. I’ll need a $500 deposit. I won’t take checks so
you’ll have to pay with a credit card.”
Gutter
asked, “How about cash?”
Pat
shrugged again. “Sure, but the nearest ATM is almost a ten-minute walk.”
Gutter
rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a massive roll of money. From the
outside of the roll he pulled off five hundreds. He gave the five bills to Pat,
whose jaw had dropped again, then put the still-massive roll back into his
pocket.
After
Pat regained his composure he said, “You really shouldn’t carry that much money
around. The streets aren’t safe around here.”
Gutter
looked Pat in the eye and said, “I know.”
Pat
wrinkled his nose as if he was confused, then put the money into his cash
register. Pat wrote out a receipt and handed it to Gutter. “There you go. I
wrote the pick-up time on it. It’ll be ready next Saturday.”
Gutter
nodded and put the paper into his pocket. As Gutter left, Pat began closing the
store. The first thing Pat did was lock the front door and then put up a closed
sign.
Gutter
returned the very next week, again, promptly at
Gutter
said, “OK.”
Pat
placed all the pieces into his tiny dressing room then said, “All set.”
Gutter
went in and put the armor on. After a few minutes Gutter came out of the dressing
room. “It fits; I’ll pay for it and then be on my way.”
Pat
nodded, “OK, that’ll be $3,200.”
Gutter
said, “You said $3,000.”
“Sir,
that was just an estimate,” Pat replied.
After
a pause, Gutter said, “So why did you miscalculate?”
“It’s
an estimate. It’s human to make mistakes.”
After
an agitated pause, Gutter said, “Fine.”
He took out the same roll of money and peeled off 27 hundred-dollar bills and
gave them to Pat. The roll looked almost a third smaller when Gutter was done.
Pat
quickly put the money in the cash register and then, as he put the armor pieces
into boxes, he said, “So, what is all the armor for? Are you in the SCA?”
Gutter
had done some research on the internet and knew the SCA was the Society for
Creative Anachronism. Because its members often wore metal armor and bashed
each other with sticks he had already decided it would be a good cover story.
Gutter
said, “Yes, I’m from the Shire of Smoking Rocks.”
“Really?
I’m in the SCA too, from Barony of the Bridge.”
Gutter
shrugged.
“I’m
surprised I haven’t met you before. Alex Pizel runs the shire, right?”
Gutter
said, “I guess. I’m pretty new. I just wanted to get some decent armor before
the next event.”
Pat
said, “Well, that’s cool. Most of my customers are fellow Scadians. I get some
Rennies too though.”
“Well,
I best be going. Thank you for the armor.”
Pat
nodded. “You’re welcome. Thank you for the order. Can I help you carry it out?”
“No,
I got it.”
“Are
you sure? It’s pretty heavy.”
Gutter
suddenly realized that it probably was heavy for a mortal and said, “Yes, OK.”
Pat
took half the armor and Gutter took the remainder. They walked out to the
street. When they arrived at the curb, Gutter said, “That’ll do. I’ll hail a
cab from here.”
Pat
lifted his left eyebrow. “A cab?”
Gutter
nodded, “Yes, that’s how I got here.”
“Oh,
well, there aren’t many cabs around here. Plus, those drivers are so seedy.”
“I’ll
be fine, thanks again.”
After
a moment, Pat set the boxes he was holding down, then hurried back to his
store. After Pat left, Gutter checked to make sure Pat was gone. Gutter took
the boxes and walked to the sewer.