The vestment process was far from easy. First of all, none of the elements of the local wardrobe did have any rubber bands, it was also necessary to forget about suspenders, zippers, buttons and other achievements of progress. The belt, buckle, tie - that's all the tools available. And it was still easy for me - I wasn't trying to put on these local tights, uh... The highways seemed to have a whole epic in them, even if they looked like they were attached. But even after coping with the difficulty of wearing outerwear, I did not exhaust the difficulties, because there was still armor.
It should be noted here that nothing like knightly armor, forged bibs and helmets covering the entire head with fences in the cloaks of road robbers was not found. There were long and short, thick and almost decorative collars - matched under leather vests, were riveted helmets with a ring bar mitzvah, were a simple form of handcuffs and knives of two or three pieces of metal connected by straps. But there wasn't even a kirsch for the leader.
I confess, having already tried my own strength, I wasn't sure that I needed it all. No, I wasn't sure of my own invincibility until I was able to give up the extra chance of safety like that, but the worm of doubt inside was moving. After all, I carved out the whole camp of those who had it all and, unlike me, was very good at using it?
So, soberly looking at things, if I ran into someone stronger than me, I would benefit from a few pounds of iron on my body... It's also good if I have a nosebleed, or maybe even a negative one, for example, preventing me from escaping.
I feel that even the biggest ringlets were, like, easy for me, but hell knows how it will play in case of exhaustion, or the need to drag for a long time and far. On the other hand, in medieval society, armour and weapons are indicators of status and wealth. Even though I wasn't going to go out to people yet, in the future, anything can happen and it's better to have such an argument than not to have it.
In general, by an internal compromise, I agreed on a light chain mail that would be worn under a vest and refuses the helmet. Handcuffs with knives also decided to take - not useful, so you can always throw away. Again I had to sweat, putting it all on, because I had some problems with the size, as I was noticeably inferior to the article and the width of the shoulders of most locals. But I managed to do nothing, somehow I adjusted it, even managed to limit myself to just a dozen minutes of profanity.
The money was easier to handle, and there was a lot of it, which was not surprising after a successful raid. Basically there was copper, but also silver coins have gained a decent, on pair kilos precisely.
And here is another debunking of another legend: silver did not cause any allergic reaction or burns, and why would it?
I am not a descendant of Judas from Kiriaf, and there is no curse on me accordingly. There were only thirteen golden ones, a good number just for me.
Having broken the money into several bags and stuck it in the strongest torpedo, I reached for a little earlier delayed crossbow, still hunting with something you need, and from the bow, I will shoot only leaves from the branches and... Measured in a stupor.
A crossbow lying in half a meter, with a bowstring removed, jumped into the palm of his hand.
The feeling was strange... acquaintances?
Slowly putting the gunshot in place, I took my hand away and tried to restore the feeling. So I turn my head, stretch my hand out... No, not that! I want to reach out... No, that's not it either! I want to take it... Quicker to take it, but it lies a little uncomfortable and... Yes!
The crossbow jumped back into his hand, and I felt a familiar pulling feeling in his hand, giving up all over his body. Another attempt, this time with a twig on the ground. The necessary feeling was caused almost immediately and a piece of wood rose to the palm of my hand.