As Kaelor purchased the blueprint, his fingers tightened around the leather scroll in his hand. The weight of its promise felt real, as if it radiated the potential of future legions clad in iron. But just then, something, someone, caught his eye.
A man strode through the market crowd, clad in full plate armour layered above chainmail and a black gambeson. It wasn't just a display of wealth, it was war-forged prestige.
Every segment was in place: the polished cuirass that gleamed under the sun, broad pauldrons guarding his shoulders, rerebraces covering his upper arms, and articulated vambraces sheathing his forearms. Gauntlets of reinforced metal clasped his fingers in cold purpose. At his knees, partially hidden beneath the gambeson that ended at mid-thigh, glinted the ridged steel of poleyns, while his shins and feet were sealed in greeves and sabatons, perfectly crafted for mobility and protection.
