Dionysus went to the bench where he had kept his equipment. He groaned and started to take off his armor. Why hadn't I been sensible enough to take it off after I was done fighting, he thought. Now my backside hurts from sitting down while wearing it.

He moaned as he untied his gauntlets. They had become too tight for his now beefy, muscular hands. He made a mental note to go and buy a new pair later. He looked at the places where the gloves had pressed into hid hands to hard. They were sunken in , and some places were purple. The places were his sword had put pressure ontop of the gauntlets were even more disgustingly colored than the other places.

Dionysus grimaced and poured water all over his arms. He sat and started to massage his arms. At least my arms are numb, Dionysus thought. This should be hurting more than if Ares stuck his bident up my backside.

"What's your problem, Dion?" asked Acheron. He took one look at Dionysus' arm and ran to the showers.

"It's not that sick," Dionysus whined. He looked down at them himself, and saw that he had made them even worse. "OK, yeah," he thought to himself. "They are."

"Anything wrong Dion?" the trainer asked, heading towards him. He looked at his arms. "Looks like you need a new pair of gauntlets." He picked up Dionysus' hands. "I know how to fix this. Happened to me many times when I was training." He turned around and motioned Dionysus to follow. He followed him to the storage room.

Dionysus looked around himself in awe. Every where he looked, he saw fighting equipment. There were swords, gauntlets, helms, breastplates, scimitars, 2-handed swords, shields, bows, arrows, quivers. There was even a full set of archer's armor. Only expert archers were given these sets, and only temples gave them out. There was no way for someone without arching skill to aquire a suit.

The End

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