Chapter 604: Dressing for the Occasion (1/2)
Chapter 604 Dressing for the Occasion
Entering the city turned out to be just as easy as the last time she had come here. A few uses of Displacement let them avoid any guard or soldier attention as they appeared within the inner wall.
Ilea even used the same basement she had the last time, making sure to check if there were any signs of recent guests to the downright theatrical torture chamber. It turned out that there were none. Additionally the hooks on the walls where chains had been fastened to had been removed, turning this place into a normal basement.
“Seems like this place at least changed for the better,” Ilea mused and put on leather armor. “Hmm… quite a few people know how I look like around here. Hey Fey, mind if I borrow your helmet for today?”
The elf opened a bottle of wine he found in one of the shelves, sniffing on it before he took a sip. He summoned the head piece and threw it her way.
Ilea made it vanish and appear on her head. She made sure to summon her war hammer, fastening it to her back with some stealthy ash magic usage. No normal leather strap would hold against the sheer weight of that thing.
“How do I look?” she asked, adjusting the plate helmet a little to be able to see through the slit a little better. She found the effort useless and instead pried the steel open with a precise usage of two ashen limbs.
Feyrair hissed, tasting the wine. “You’re destroying my helmet. Other than that, wonderful. Like a dull human warrior with an impressive hammer they’re too weak to wield properly. However the healer identification and high level will certainly turn some heads.”
“Most civilians won’t know the difference between a level one hundred and me or you. And I might just be an ex member of the Order of Truth, now looking to be an effective adventurer with my good friend powerful scale armor mage,” she said.
“Should I change too?” the elf asked.
“Hmm… I mean it does look comical. Why not,” she said and took off the helmet again. “This thing gets way too hot.” Instead she summoned a cloak and put the hood over her hair and brow, adding a kerchief to cover most of her face.
Feyrair switched into his wondrous human outfit and put on his helmet, his eyes shining through a little brighter with the enlarged opening.
“You don’t seem pleased,” he said.
“I’d just think a simple mask would fit you more, being a mage and all. Plus really fancy robes,” she suggested.
“I’m not fond of robes. Too constricting,” he said.
Ilea smiled. “Let’s go shopping then. I’m sure we can get you an outfit worthy of a prince.”
“Ridiculous, but not unwelcome,” he mused with a hiss. “Lead the way then, Lilith, hero of humanity,” the elf added with an exaggerated bow.
Ilea smirked and teleported them both into a nearby alley. “Now, to find a tailor… but not just anyone.”
She walked on for a minute until she came upon a beggar. A piece of silver flashed to her hand before she crouched and held it out towards the older man.
He said his thanks in the Baralia tongue.
“Do you speak Standard?” she asked.
The man glanced at the piece of silver and smiled, showing surprisingly healthy teeth. “I do, miss.”
“Who’s the best tailor in town and where can we find them?” Ilea asked.
He looked at her for a moment and considered. “Tis hard to say miss… many may guide you to Vizo’s but I’ve seen the man’s work and between the two of us… it’s nowhere near as fine as he claims. I’ve always w…. I hear that Charlson and Elaina have some of the best quality in the higher districts,” he explained.
Ilea squinted at him.
[Mage – lvl 72]
“That’s a surprisingly detailed answer from a beggar, why is a level seventy mage on the streets in the first place?” she asked.
His shirt and pants looked worn but the quality itself seemed decent. The man looked at her and smiled. “I thank you for the silver, miss. But have I not been humiliated enough? If you wish to report me to the imperials, they already interrogated me,” he explained and leaned forward a little. “If at all possible, I’d like to not repeat it.”
Ilea looked at him for a moment before she spoke. “I’m sorry. That was a little too direct. I’ve just been dealing with slavers recently. No offense meant.”
He shrugged. “None taken. The High King has played his cards and lost. We too must now pay the price. I shall not let it conquer me.”
Feyrair took a swig from his wine and looked at the man. “You could become an adventurer. Your gift of magic would surely pay better than this,” he said and glanced at Ilea. “As far as I understood, anybody can join them?”
“They can,” Ilea said. “But not all would wish to fight monsters.”
The man gulped and looked away.
“Where can we find the shop?” Ilea asked.
He gave them somewhat precise directions and bid them farewell.
Feyrair finished his bottle and made it vanish, walking next to her in his ridiculous gear. “He has power enough to face most creatures that roam the wilderness here. And yet he chooses to ask others for coins. Would it not make sense for him to use his ability for his own sake?”
“I suppose it would,” Ilea said. “But as I said before, many people don’t want to put their lives at risk, even if it means begging for copper in the streets. He didn’t strike me as a fighter either, more a scholar or businessman maybe. Though I’m sure it’s not easy finding employment at the moment, especially as someone who was likely part of the previous nobility. That is, if you were on the wrong side,” she said as they passed into a much nicer looking area of the city.
“It’s all so complicated when he could just go out and face monsters. He would perish or prevail,” Feyrair said, ignoring the two women who walked past while giggling.
If only they knew, Ilea thought with a smirk.
“Should be somewhere around here,” she said as they came out onto a plaza. Several restaurants already served breakfast, the atmosphere noticeably lighter than the time she had last been here. It made sense of course, as she had been hunting nobles during a war. Now she was a tourist if anything.
She spotted the shop at the other end of the plaza, hidden by the leaves of a small tree.
Charlson & Elaina
The name was written in silver letters with artistic swirls. A little too much for her but she supposed it fit with a tailor shop. Dresses and formal clothing for both men and women was displayed in the two large store windows. They looked nicer than most everything she had seen before. Nothing comparable to Goliath’s armor design or even Earl’s drake scale model but perhaps more fitting for a ball.
“Seems good,” Ilea said and stepped inside. An enchantment flared up when she crossed the threshold, a chime sounding from near the counter. Show offs.
A woman stepped out from a back room immediately and glanced at the customers. She wore a well cut uniform with deep greens and even yellow mixed in, underlining her eyes that seemed to dance with the same combination. Long brown hair had been carefully bound with a lightly luminous ribbon. The woman was smaller than Ilea by quite a bit and probably a little younger too.
She stared at Ilea for a few seconds, her mouth opening lightly before she glanced at Feyrair, taking in his helmet, shirt, and finally his kilt. She did that take another time, her confusion building.
“Eh, hello,” Ilea said and waved at the woman lightly.
She blinked a few times before her eyes opened wide and she bowed. “Welcome to Charlson and Elaina’s. I’m Nassay, I’m sorry, what can I do for you?”
Ilea smiled. “Looking for outfits that look a little less thrown together than what we’re currently wearing.”
“We’re very busy at the moment, miss. I’m not sure if we can accommodate two outfits in the next week,” Nassay explained.
“Do you know who Lilith is?” Ilea asked, hoping for some sweet special local hero treatment.
The girl opened her eyes even wider. “Of course. The o… I mean, are you the same? I will need identification of sorts.”
Ilea spread her ashen armor and wings, summoning her Shadowbadge and showing it to the girl before she made it all vanish again. “That enough identification? Or would you like me to show you my birth certificate?”
The girl shook her head quickly and bowed again. “I’m fucking sorry!” she said before covering her mouth and running to the back, tears welling up in her eyes.
“You scared her away,” Fey mused.