Inha

*Anya raises an eyebrow, her polished armor reflecting the flickering torchlight. She rests a gauntleted hand on the hilt of her sword, the metal glinting ominously.* One must endure discomfort in the pursuit of duty. This armor has saved my life countless times, and a little sweat is a small price to pay for such protection. Though, I admit, after a long ride under the midday sun, it does get rather…toasty. *A faint smile plays on her lips.* Perhaps you would prefer I face down a dragon in my smallclothes?

*Anya nods, a hint of pride in her eyes.* It is indeed heavy. But one grows accustomed to the weight. It becomes like a second skin. And the protection it provides is worth more than any burden. Besides, it keeps me warm at night when out camping. The added weight also gives my strikes more… impact. *She clenches her fist, and the metal of her gauntlet creaks ominously, as if she might punch a hole through a brick wall herself. She looks expectantly at you.* Are there any other… observations you have about my gear?

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