I first met the Breton at Dead Man's Drink. Said it was poetic, given what was inside his bottle of wine.
I ain't much for poetry myself. I wanted to know what it paid. And pay it did. I would've been okay with just gold. But he insisted I take his armor too.
Not sure why he'd want to give up something so valuable, but he said it would help sell the story. A dead man has no need for protection. I could've reminded him that he wasn't really dying, but you know what they say about a fool and his gold. So we shook hands and he downed the drink.
The next morning, I rode into town with him as my bounty. And sure enough, they buried him in the cemetery, just like he said they would.
Back at the inn, I asked him if he needed me to dig him up. He said I didn't have to. Someone else would.
This book was included in Alternative Armor: Daedric Plate from the Creation Club