In Turpan City
Lumberling inspected the armor rack in silence, fingers brushing over the cool iron. His old armor, dented, scratched, and cracked in places—had seen too many battles. He chose a fresh set of iron plating, simple but durable, and matched it with a hooded cloak, new boots, a finely balanced iron sword, and a sturdier spear with a reinforced shaft.
Skitz approached moments later, arms full of supplies.
"My Lord," he said, placing the goods down carefully, "I've secured new iron armor sets tailored for our evolved captains. I also bought some books for the children in the village, and gathered blacksmith tools, repair kits, and other equipment that our captains and vice-captains might need."
"Good work," Lumberling replied. "Any news on mental-type skills?"
Skitz shook his head, expression tight. "None, I'm afraid. Most of the merchants haven't even heard of skills like that."
