“Now, where shall we begin?” Philomar queried his guests. “How about you, my rather original giant? It is not often you see a half-ogre.” Philomar points to Zander. Zander only looks behind him thinking of the ‘little guys’ first. Philomar chuckles. “Yes, I meant you. Tell me, my large friend who were your parents?”
Zander looked to the wizard in shock. “I have not been asked that question in many years.” He sheepishly walks up to the wizard. “Well, I am known again as Zander, Son of “the Indefinite” for a reason. It is believed my mother was a human and my father a filthy ogre, I do not know my parents. I was raised by the priests of Othr as a human of great strength.”
“Ah yes, that explains it.” Philomar smiles at the comment Solcloud made about Zander breaking the mold. It especially fit after seeing Zander’s childish demeanor towards a man half his size. He pats the giant on the shoulder and continues. “What do you require?”
“I am traveling as a minister of Othr’s word. I wish only to be worthy of Othr’s blessings once again. He is a God of war and would look upon me unfit without armor and a weapon. Do you have such things to fit my size?” Zander looks down to the wizard in humility.
“I do indeed, my large friend.”
Philomar waves his hand at a doorway to his left. The door creaks open to reveal a treasure trove of armor. Chain mail, plate mail, hide, everything was on display in front of his eyes. Zander’s eyes bulged at the sight, but then his heart sunk when no armor seemed to look big enough for his size.
“There is nothing to fit me.” Zander’s heart sunk.
“Yes there is!” The wizard reaches out and pulls out a chain shirt that had the symbol of Othr on the chest off the wall. However, it looked to only be able to fit a man of Beasley’s stature, not Zander’s hulking build.
The giant chuckled at the image of him wearing that chain shirt over his massive head. “Yes, that is my God. But it is most definitely not my size.”
“Put it on,” urged Philomar. “It will fit. Trust Ol’ Philomar.”
Zander shrugged and lifted the shirt over his head. As he did so, the chain shimmered with a tingle of blue electricity and the shirt began to expand. He let out a mighty roar of laughter as the shirt tickled him as it slipped over his arms and down his body to fit him perfectly.
“Othr must be praised! How did that work?”
Philomar explained that the chain shirt recognizes followers of Othr and conforms to fit them. “Might I suggest a robe to befit a cleric, Master Zander?” The wizard waved his hands and a white robe with only holes for the arms and a hood floated into his hand. Zander put the robe on and pushed his arms through the holes. The metal of the chain mail on his arms shimmered as it pushed through the robe.
“What else does such a cleric need?” Philomar asked rhetorically. “Ah yes, you said a weapon befitting the god of war! I know just the room.”
Philomar smiled at the obvious pride now being expressed by Zander in his new clothes. Philomar walked across the hall, Zander following behind anxious to see what was next. The door to the armor room creaked shut behind him. Philomar waved his hand at another door, it creaked to life and a room full of hammers appeared before their eyes. Zander’s chest puffed up with pride as tears of gratitude filled his eyes.
“Pick one.” Philomar urged.
Zander rubbed his eyes, sniffed and praised Othr once again silently. “I cannot. Such gifts can only be given to one worthy. How can I be graced with such wonders?”
Philomar nudged Zander. “Othr is blessing you through me.”
Zander smiled, “Then let Othr bless me, you choose for me.”
“Very well.” Philomar waved his hand and a hammer floated into his grip. “This befits a follower of Othr.” He hands the hammer to Zander. The giant inspects the hammer and noticed it was perfectly balanced.
“This is Othr’s Hammer of Smiting, it causes massive damage to your foes in battle, but it especially takes large bites out of the undead. Othr would be pleased for you to have it.”
Zander smiled and shrugged, “Is it too much to ask for just a shield? Nothing special, just a shield?”
“Of course not, my large friend.” Philomar points to Zander’s arm and a large wooden shield with a hammer carved on the front appeared attached to his arm.
“Thank Othr, and bless you, servant of Othr.” Zander smiled. “I will wait for the rest of you with Solcloud.” Zander walked back towards the dining hall, very happy with his ‘blessings.’
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