(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

Goncalves looked me over, frowning. "Nothing that would fit you, that is for
certain."
"Nonetheless, I'm curious as to what you have."
Goncalves' stood up and reached under the counter, "It should be
understood, good sir, that many of the nobility feel the need to protect
themselves. Danger can be found anywhere in the planes, and wealth and
influence often is of little use against it. I have shirts of light silk that are as
tough as cured leather against blade or hammer, gowns for sorceresses that
enhance their spells..."
"And what of- er... chastity bodices?"
Goncalves looked over to Grace, who was feigning interest in a silken scarf,
"Ah yes. I've designed near all of Mistress Grace's wardrobe, with no small
amount of pride, good sir, though this is one of the few times I've seen her
wear that particular piece. It is tough as chain armor, but commissioned so
long ago," he frowned at me, "I do hope that this doesn't mean that the
Mistress shall be cavorting off to muck about in some forsaken abyss or
another."
"I'm afraid we know little of where we shall be going next, Master
Goncalves," she said absently.
I nodded, "I don't suppose we could commission you for something with a
little more potency to it? Aside from protection, I mean."
Goncalves nodded, "Certainly, good sir. My skills have improved significantly
since I completed that particular commission for the Mistress."
"Ah, no need to act the gentleman," Grace said with a smile as I placed my
hand on my coin pouch, "I have enough gold for my own pieces. Perhaps
everyone else could browse the store for anything that might interest
them?"
I blinked. Morte had no body, anything Dak'kon wore would be covered by
his armor, and Ignus would have incinerated any cloth wrapped around him.
All that remained was...
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