The next morning, the group sat down together for breakfast, most looking like they had slept little. When the plates of sausage, steaming eggs and sliced potatoes arrived, Arn immediately dug in with a delighted “mmm.” Val, usually the optimist, reacted with disgust. “Some of us value our damn lives Arn! We have a big decision to make and you’re stuffing your face.”

Arn snorted. “You’ve been sitting here sullen for ten minutes. Not my fault you waited to have this big discussion until the food came, or that you couldn’t sleep.” Val stared at Arn bitterly and said, “actually it is your fault. The moaning I understand, but what in the Hells was up with the screaming? Sounded like you were flaying the skin off a little girl.”

Keana cheerfully explained. “Oh that. Just a small misunderstanding. Arn’s a bit sore. Well maybe a lot sore. Boy acts all tough, but he gets butt hurt over little things. Well, ok . . . not especially little. But I gave him a night even he won’t ever forget, lets just say that.”

Arn reddened. “I . . . I don’t want to talk about it.” Pepper laughed maniacally, eggs spraying everywhere.

Keana raised her hands. “Now, now, come on Arn. I could hardly let you do your own thing without proper training, not after our first time! I took the manacles off, eventually! You sure seemed to enjoy yourself when we…” Sar interrupted noting, “ok, you convinced me. I’d rather have the bugs emerge from my eyes than continue to listen to this conversation. Eat. Then whoever is going on can shop.”

Despite the lingering effects of the Mayor’s terrifying lesson, the full group headed over to Silver Tongue’s shop – and spent a surreal three hours there as he slowly divested them of all their wealth. That he had somehow convinced so many of the town’s crafters to sell through him was shocking – until one stood there as he made powerful pitches for a bizarre assortment of items like “scent-absorbing” bandages designed to prevent “attracting more attention when you’re badly injured.” The group declined those, but succumbed on many, many other items.

To be fair, many of the items were of amazing quality, obviously well worth the price. As painful as the steady outflow of coin was, there were some pleasant surprises. When the moment Arn most dreaded arrived, and he finally asked about leather armor that could standup to the needs of a regenerating Shield, Silver Tongue looked intrigued, asking “a regenerating shield? A were-class? I should have asked, but I’ve gotten pretty good at judging such things by looks.”

Arn answered “no sir, I have a legendary class. I regenerate faster the more injured I am, and gain more experience when badly injured as well. So metal armor seems wasteful, but I can’t afford to buy new leather armor every time I go out either, so I just don’t know. Back home, I hunted slarns naked, but. . .” Silver Tongue put his arm around Arn clucking his tongue, “naked!! No, no none of that, not while your buying from me! A legendary classer! Crazy as it sounds, I just might have something! You don’t have nearly enough coin for such a rare and spectacular item, but a legendary classer . . . perhaps we can work something out.”

After disappearing into the back room for nearly five minutes, Silver Tongue emerged with . . . what looked like a bear-skin rug. Jaws dropped. Silver Tongue laughed, a musical sound that filled the room. He put the “armor” on the counter and explained. “This is a were-bear’s hide, specially treated and enchanted, a process known as living armor. Only made by one particular sect of elves, very, very rare. Given time, it can repair any damage through growth, as long as enough of the armor is intact. You can speed it up by sewing any flaps together – I’ll throw in a needle and thread if we reach a deal. Its not plate mail, but it will provide a lot more protection than a normal leather armor, and is particularly good against elemental damage. Try it on.”

Arn found that that the living armor went on much like a coat; the fur-covered hide overlapped in front, secured by a set of hidden buttons. The “armor” was incredibly soft – like wearing a fur coat, but somehow not especially hot. It extended just past his knees, over the new tougher leather pants he previously purchased.

Princess growled. Pepper put a hand on Princess, who had otherwise been incredibly patient, calmly sitting and watching the festivities. Pepper explained that “she seems to think you’re a bear. A big, weird-ass bear. I can’t imagine why.” Keana chimed in – “just so you know Arn, you are not wearing that in the sleeping bag!” Arn, delighted, asked, “so that means we are sharing a sleeping bag? No, living armor and, no um, special equipment, right?” Val snorted, and cut them off. “You two can do whatever you want in the next inn. As long as your room isn’t next to mine. And no one calls the constable. But in the jungle we are all business.”

Silver Tongue watched the youngsters gently bicker with amusement. They had potential; he was willing to make a small investment. Still, there was risk, and he had to ensure a proper return to compensate for that risk. He cleared his threat. “Ahem! This is a 12 gold quality item! You dive the jungle a year or two, maybe, just maybe, you’ll have gear like this! If I’m going to sell you this armor now, given your limited funds, we need a written agreement with some special provisions!” Fifteen minutes later, Arn had forked over the rest of his gold and: (1) agreed to pay an additional two gold within the first two years and an additional six gold over the following four years; (2) make “not less than six promotional appearances” of “up to eight hours each” on behalf of “Omar Silver Tongue’s Emporium of Wonders” and (3) convinced the group to sign a provision agreeing to provide all of Arn’s wordly possessions to Silver Tongue if Arn died within the next twenty years. Keana poked Arn and muttered, “surprised you didn’t give him a testicle too.”

Val needed little, since his blade, shield and chain mail were spell-forged steel, just a cut below mithril, and as such he bought most of the miscellaneous items like the map and first aid kit for the group with good humor. The House of Leather and Lace apparently paid well, at least for its stars, and even many years later, Keana still had some of her mother’s earnings – just enough to upgrade her long knives to spell-forged steel. Pepper bought little and reluctantly, resisting Silver Tongue’s charm far better than the others. She, however, splurged on a quiver’s worth of enchanted arrows with a variety of effects.

Far better equipped, and dead broke, the group headed for the forest. As they walked through town, Arn drew a number of curious stares, and more than a few children pointed and laughed, but Reach saw many adventurers and was used to the occasional oddity – although a very large young man dressed like a bear was admittedly a first.