He sets down a game piece and lifts his hand - it doesn't reach all the way to the top of his horn but it's clear he's doing a mental measurement. Then going by the top of the counter he lowers it to a vague estimation of your average maggot. Casual as you like, he picks up another game piece to polish.

"...That's ridiculous," he scoffs. "That's a vast thing to be wearing for something so small. Unless the Great Knight was... not much bigger than you, and the armour was... tailored in such a way..."

That can't be right, is what he instinctively wants to say. He squints, instead.

"Did you happen to examine it?"