When Louis awoke the next morning, he regretted his decision. The idea of competing in a fighting tournament, let alone transforming in front of a whole crowd of people, now felt very reckless. What had he been thinking, agreeing to that? He must have been out of his mind. He had certainly been out of his body. Was this his old human anxiety returning to him now he'd spent a few hours back as himself? Or was this just because he'd had time to dwell on the matter?
Warwick bustled into his room shortly after. 'Up, up!' he trilled excitedly. 'I need to see if this fits.'
He coaxed Louis out of bed to stand in the middle of the room. Without warning, Warwick lifted Louis's nightshirt over his head, leaving him completely naked.
'Hey!' Louis complained, but the next thing he knew, Warwick had buckled a belt around his waist. He looked down and saw the belt had two, long rectangles of leather hanging from it, one covering his crotch, the other his behind. A sort of loincloth. He noticed there were two buckles, one at each hip, but the right one was buckled so loosely he didn't see what it was adding.
Louis was about to ask questions, when Warwick said, 'Arms up!' Louis obeyed and felt Warwick drop two loops of rope over each arm. They rested loosely at his shoulders and he could feel a long, narrow strip of leather touch his back. Louis craned his neck over his shoulder and saw a scabbard hanging between his shoulder blades. As he was looking, Warwick dropped his sword into it. The sudden weight almost toppled him backwards.
'So...' said Warwick. 'What do you think?'
There was no mirror in the room, but Louis didn't need one to know he looked a fool. The loincloth might have suited a barbarian warrior but not his skinny pale frame. And when he tried to pull his sword out of the scabbard, he found he couldn't. Even with his arm stretched fully upwards the sword was just too long to come all the way out.
Louis said nothing and Warwick seemed a little out out. 'But you haven't seen the best part,' he said. 'Look.'
He reached out and undid the left buckle of the loincloth. It loosened a little, but a loop of leather prevented it from unraveling entirely, so long as Louis stated perfectly still.
'Go on, then,' urged Warwick. 'Let's see it on the other fella.'
Understanding, Louis transformed. He was getting so good at it, he didn't need to shut his eyes to focus. He instinctively moved his feet apart as his legs grew. As his chest broadened, his shoulders expanded until the loose fittings of the scabbard fit snugly. As his hips widened and pushed at the belt, it unraveled smoothly to accommodate his larger build until, at full size, the second buckle kept it tight. At his human size, the hanging strips of leather left only the very sides of his legs bare. Now they only just kept him modest. His thick, fur-like pubic hair burst out at the sides and appeared over the top of the belt. A sizeable lump appeared beneath the leather, tenting it slightly. Louis tried removing his sword again, finding it easy with his longer arms. With practice, he could even do it swiftly.
Warwick watched this with glee. 'I had it specially made yesterday. Picked it up this morning. Isn't it perfect? Not as good as mail or plate armour, obviously, but you'll need a smarter smith to make that fit you at both sizes. Besides, this frees your movement up, and you've got thick skin in this body, right? Either way it's first to draw blood so you should be avoiding all hits as it is.'
'Who's watching the shop today?' asked Louis in his deep orc voice.
'It's closed,' said Warwick, looking away.
'How much did you spend on all this?'
For a moment, Warwick looked a little worried. Louis was much bigger than him now and sounded much more threatening, even when he didn't mean to be. But Warwick quickly found his nerve.
'A lot less than we stand to make. It was an investment.' The way he stressed that last word told Louis this was not a debt he was ready to write off.
Louis sighed. 'Maybe we should just enter me in the heavy class, as an Orc.'
'Pff. The odds will be terrible for that. You'll be the only one, you're bound to win.'
'But what will everyone think when they find out I can transform?'
It sounded so strange for his orcish voice to be so anxious. It made Warwick pause. Perhaps, for the first time, he fully understood that this Orc was still his little brother.
He put his arm around Louis's waist, since he could no longer lay it across his shoulders. 'Give 'em an entertaining fight and they won't care. And if anyone does, transform into an Orc and whack 'em in the head.'
Louis laughed in spite of himself. Warwick took this as the end of the discussion. 'I'll be back at noon to bring you to the fight. I've got some bookies to meet. Maybe get a few practice swings in, yeah?' And then he was gone.
Louis was conflicted. His old self would just have gone with what Warwick said, rather than challenge him, but he wasn't sure he still wanted to be bossed around by his brother. The Orc in his head certainly didn't like it, but he also didn't want to refuse to fight, leaving him very confused.
And while Louis wanted a chance to try out his sword, he was suddenly aware he had never so much as sparred with it. Would the Orc in his mind lend him enough instinct for that not to matter? Worst of all, he wasn't sure Warwick had been entirely truthful about the reactions of the town people.