[center][h1][b]Ǫlni The Forgemaster[/b][/h1][/center]
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Ǫlni grumbled, kneeling down beside the Valkyrie. His fingers were thick, but they were dexterous. He began to peel the armor off, speaking of the make as he did so, as if it were second nature. 

"The Choosers of the Slain are the handmaidens of Odin. Their armor is of the finest quality. Dwarf make, actually. Though I never made any myself. This was something my grandfather worked on..." He undid her glimmering golden pauldrons, sharp edged and wide, in the likeness of great wings. "The plates aid her in gliding, and the cuirass is ten thousand thousand links of gilded steel. She wears no coif, as ye can see. But her helm, shaped like an eagle, you see? It can survive any blow save a strike from Thor's hammer himself. Here lad, grab the lower bits-" 

"What?" Harald asked, too focused on staunching the blood to be bewildered, but still confused. 

"Oh, right." It was just easier for him to pull the cuirass off with two men, but he raised her arms and yanked the plate gauntlets off all the same, pulling off the cuirass as Harald helped lift her body. Soon she had on naught but a linen top and a simple skirt. "How is she, lad? Ye don't want to be failing now. Odin is vengeful you see..." 

"I'm helping though!" He breathed. 

"Yes, but he's a fickle god. Where do ye think Loki gets it from?" 
[@Penny]