Leo heard Onyxia's furious roar and knew he'd blown the conversation again.
Still, as long as she stayed trapped inside his Collections tab, he figured he could wear her down eventually. They'd talk again another time.
He told Varyn to set the night watch, then sent everyone to bed.
The night passed quietly.
Leo woke at first light, washed up, ate a quick breakfast, and called Varyn in.
Two things on the schedule: head to the Red Keep and submit a formal request for an audience with King Robert, then wander King's Landing and pick up whatever caught his eye.
He "dressed" with care.
No way was he strolling around the capital in his flashy Seventh Legion plate. Instead he used the transmog NPC on his Grand Expedition Yak to hide the entire armor set. To anyone looking, he was just wearing plain Westerosi noble street clothes—soft tunic, breeches, and a light cloak.
In reality the full plate was still on him, weightless and invisible. He felt like he was walking around in his underwear, only better protected.
Side note: he'd already figured out he could summon just the yak's vendor NPC without calling the big shaggy beast itself. Perfect for buying supplies in private.
He tested the hidden armor in his room—pressed a dagger against his forearm. The blade slid off like it had hit steel. He even wondered what would happen if he layered another set of armor on top for double protection.
Turned out that was impossible. The system treated the plate as equipped gear; he couldn't stack anything else on the same slots. Trying to force it felt like hitting an invisible wall.
Still, the experiment gave him two huge insights.
First, hidden armor meant enemies would underestimate him. They'd assume he was unarmored. He could sleep in it without anyone knowing. And if some assassin tried to stick a knife in him at night… well, that would be hilarious. He could even spin the story that the Seven themselves shielded their "Chosen One." In a world where almost everyone believed in the gods, word would spread like wildfire across Westeros. Add a dragon to the legend and he'd be unstoppable.
Second discovery was simpler: his starting stats—fourteen Strength, twelve Agility, fifteen Stamina—only existed because of the armor. Stripped down to nothing, he was sitting at eight Strength, nine Agility, and a pathetic seven Stamina.
Ten points really was average for a normal man.
Leo refused to dwell on it. From now on, unless there was a damn good reason, that plate was never coming off. Ever.
He rode out with Varyn, one sworn man, and eight of the farmers who had asked to stay on as servants. The rest had taken their fat pay and gone home.
First stop: the Red Keep. They handed the gold-cloaked guards at the inner gate a polite written request for an audience with King Robert. No one saw the king on a whim; you waited for the royal summons.
Then Leo cut loose.
He went full "spend money" mode—buying anything that looked interesting, no questions asked.
One small snag: his World of Warcraft gold and silver weren't legal tender. He had to exchange it at the royal mint or through merchants for Westerosi gold dragons, silver stags, and copper stars. The crown held the coinage rights, and the Master of Coin oversaw everything.
Leo didn't sweat it. He already knew he could game the exchange rate. He swapped a hundred WoW gold coins for thirty thousand silver stags, paying a tiny "service fee." The merchant grinned like he'd robbed a Lannister; Leo grinned right back. Both sides walked away convinced they'd fleeced the other.
After that it was pure shopping. Crates and sacks piled up until the horses were loaded like pack mules.
By the time they returned to the Sapphire Inn, word had already reached every important ear inside the Red Keep: the generous young duke's son from the east was back in the city—and he was throwing gold around like it was water.