Knife-boot equipment is now available to purchase in the store!
Another league war was fast approaching. From all across the world, heroes would come together to fight and train to better defend the world should the Legion ever return. Morphons gave many people amazing powers, but powers alone wouldn't be enough. Training was necessary. Skill and discipline a must. But for some, Gear and equipment were thought to be the most vital. The proper gear to enhance and modify a hero's capabilities could take a capable cape and make them lethal.
That is where the Quartermaster came in...
"Hello? Is anyone here?" a new cape asked as he entered the armory for the first time, unsure what would best for him to use during league wars.
An elderly woman stepped out of thin air as she removed a cloak that somehow became visible as it came off of her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm here. Hold your horses."
The young hero gulped, shocked by her appearance and demeanor. She stood nearly eight-feet tall and wore a ripped Def Leppard t-shirt over her tight black leather pants. Her skin was a greenish-grey and her hair was pulled into mossy green dreadlocks that hung in every direction from her oversized head. "I wanted to--"
"Speak up, kid," she bellowed as she hung the red cape onto a hook on the wall behind her. "No need to be a churchmouse here. You're looking for some gear. What do you want?"
He drew in a deep breath. "I needed a new pair of boots. The combat boots I got from BADGE aren't really cutting it anymore."
"Boots that cut it... hmmm..." she said as she held up a meaty hand to her large double chin, musing for a few moments as she studied the many items on the shelves all around them. "I've got it. We just got these in."
With that, she reached over his head to the shelf behind him and pulled down a pair of sturdy leather boots. She slammed them down on the counter and from the tips of the pointed end of the stylish footwear, a small, thin blade popped out.
"That'll be 450 Bux," she said. She pulled a box out from beneath the counter and proceeded to put the boots inside.
"Shouldn't I try them on first?" the hero asked.
She stared at him with the one eye visible behind her mass of hair. The stare could have brought down and entire army with its intensity and aura of building anger as her iris began to glow. "You're questioning me?"
"No, no. I'm sure they're perfect. Four-fifty you said. Here's 500." He put down his payment and grabbed the box off the table. Rushing out the door, cradling the package in his arms, the young, inexperienced hero fled the shop.
The Quartermaster watched his departure and laughed. "And they said customer service would be hard for a troll."
0 Comments