Damon's surprise was warranted. He pulled off his blindfold just to be sure his shadow perception wasn't deceiving him. Since they'd entered the room, he had made a conscious effort not to use his shadow perception to peer into the chest. But now, he regretted his restraint.
Anvil wasn't holding a grappling hook as Damon had expected. Instead, he was holding what appeared to be a pair of metal braces designed to be worn on the wrists, extending from the wrist to the elbow.
The old blacksmith grinned, clearly pleased with himself.
"Behold my masterpiece!"
Damon frowned as Anvil approached him, the braces in hand.
"I think you might have mixed up my order with someone else's…"
Anvil chuckled heartily.
"I had no idea you had a sense of humor under that gloomy expression."
