When he got home, the porch was piled high with boxes. Mostly from UPS, but there were two from Amazon, and one each from FedEx and DHL. The majority were for his mom, but not the five boxes that had been shipped from Austria. His custom gear was finally here!

He pushed all the boxes inside the door, closed it, then grabbed the black drawstring bag holding his garb from his room. After hurrying into his black wool hose and long-sleeved tunic, he opened the first box. Black knee-length boots that laced up the back and cuffed at the top. He stroked the soft, supple leather as he pulled them over his hose, then took a few steps. It was like walking on a cloud. They definitely wouldn’t pinch his toes. Derrick looked closer. The contrast between the new leather and his old hose was striking. He had never noticed, but the wool was faded, more charcoal than midnight.

The next box held a black padded gambeson, which was basically a coat that fastened with leather straps and buckles. He slipped into it, relieved at how well it fit. While Middle Ages clothing wasn’t particularly formfitting and he had emailed his measurements, part of Derrick had worried that his translation from inches to centimeters was off.

The remaining three boxes held his new armor. Even in the weak winter sunlight, the pieces shone like mirrors. Silver jointed-metal leg guards. A breastplate topped with a semicircular gorget to protect the upper chest. Jointed arm guards that ended in articulated metal gloves. And finally spaulders that covered his shoulders and connected with the arm guards.

When people asked, Derrick’s plan was to say that some pissed-off girl on eBay was selling her ex-boyfriend’s gear and didn’t realize what she had.

He snapped all the pieces into place, topped them with his new scarlet-lined black cloak, and clanked down the hall to the bathroom with its full-length mirror.

When Derrick looked at his reflection, his eyes regarded him from a stranger’s face. He wouldn’t have been out of place in a movie. Not as an extra either, but as the lead. He was wearing everything he’d dreamed of for years. Pieces he’d bookmarked on websites or regarded enviously when they graced some doughy trauma surgeon. But now they were all his.

So why did it all feel so flat, like he was miming joy instead of really feeling it?

And then Derrick realized what was missing. He had ordered a top-of-the-line latex sword and dagger, but they hadn’t yet been delivered. The quality was supposed to be so good that you could hold them inches from your eyes and still think they were metal.

Without weapons, of course he couldn’t get the full effect.