Mission and Tailor
Over the course of the next half of an hour, Keshte explained to Wanderer the task they had for them.
There were rumours that the Earliag, who were apparently the people responsible for slavery in the desert, were beginning to suspect the rebel group’s hiding place.
The Vessel’s mission was simple, go up into the city and listen and watch for any signs that this rumour might be true.
Wanderer was ecstatic, not only had they found and befriended a human, but they had a legitimate chance to help others.
Yet even in their excitement, the voice of their Spirit cut through, bearing unfortunate logic.
They brought to the Golem’s attention the difference of their form, and how, if Wanderer were to surface in the city, they would doubtless be ousted and driven away, or worse, killed.
Wanderer froze, shocked that they had forgotten such a crucial detail.
Worried that the great plan was for naught, they brought the problem up with Keshte, who was sitting relaxedly in his chair.
After a great deal of ineffective signing and charades, the human seemed to grasp the Vessel’s worry, as a confused look spread across their face.
“Why on perlogio of all perlogiore would you need to worry cerrio a erolarliag”, he asked, as if the thought that Wanderer did not know perplexed him.
“Perlogio is the Kershrakheh, the people will be the ones erolarliag, they will careo like you!”.
In truth, the Vessel didn't fully understand what Keshte was saying, how could humans possibly look like them when there were so many differences between their respective forms.
Yet Keshte hadn't lied to them before and so trusted their explanation and hoped it would all make sense when they arrived in the city.
The end of the discussion was signalled by a previously unnoticed water jar shattering on the floor, having been knocked off its perch on a low table.
The culprit was, of course Emio, who had been gradually growing more and more impatient as the two continued their conversation, and had taken to exploring every point and line of the small room.
The Keshte, who was now the lone human in the room as Detlashra left a short while earlier, repeated their earlier incident of almost falling out of their seat in fright, having nearly forgotten the verdestry was in the room.
Embarrassed and the slightest bit angry, Wanderer scooped up Emio before they could cause more damage, then nearly dropped them when the door to the room slammed open.
Detlashra rushed in, khopesh drawn, causing a bolt of newly developed fear to rise in the Vessel’s soul.
Yet as they scanned the room, their aggression faded, as they quickly realised what had happened.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Keshte cleared his throat and addressed his companion nervously.
“Detlashra why don't you treskerio Traveller, and find them some peargio for Kershrakheh”.
The warrior finally put their weapon away, before nodding once and heading out the door and motioning for Wanderer to follow.
Placing Emio on their head, the Vessel rushed to follow the human, attempting not to bump into any of the curious figures they passed on the way.
They began to enter a new, unfamiliar part of the complex, seemingly even more central than the dining hall and office.
Where once people were relatively rare, they now packed the hallways and rooms, showing the unexpected size of Keshte’s operation.
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Eventually, they came to a single circular hallway, which centred around a place that would have once been exposed to the sun, but was now nothing but sand.
This place seemed to be the commercial area of the operation, people of all kinds going in and out of the surrounding rooms, carrying goods they did not have before.
Wanderer followed the warrior for a time as they circled around the blocked courtyard, before finally they decided they had walked far enough, and turned into one of the larger rooms to their right.
Rows and rows of colourful clothes in all shapes and sizes lined the new area, held on racks of light wood while an old woman sorted through them, unable to decide her prize.
Despite this, Detlashra seemed to be expecting someone else to be in the store, scanning the isles of clothing for an unseen figure.
Seemingly unable to find who they were looking for, the fighter began to turn around back out the door, when a rustling in the line of clothes nearest to them caught Wanderer's attention.
Out of nowhere, in a blur of brightly coloured fabric and indistinguishable limbs, a small woman rushed out of the rack of clothes, shouting as they did so.
Even the ever stoic Detlashra jumped at the scare, let alone Wanderer who nearly fell on their back from fright and Emio who spasmed violently in shock.
After the small party had recouped from the fright, and their assailant managed to stop laughing, the brightly dressed lady clasped a hand on Detlashra’s shoulder.
“Orkre, orkre, Detlashra, rekreheh sorsha hurshe deklehrheh orheh sreshkroa?”, she began, with a air of aggressive joviality, “morksheheh meshkare reshcarha mershaka”.
The two began a fast paced conversation, the woman’s energetic nature contrasting Detlashra’s solemn tone.
Seeing as they had no idea of what the two could be saying, Wanderer zoned out of the conversation, and instead took the time to inspect the new arrival.
Their clothes were unlike that of any human the Vessel had ever seen, so far deranged from the robes and armour and gowns they were used to that Wanderer hardly knew how to react.
She wore bright green boots, heavy and thick, which was complimented by tight fitting socks that almost reached her knees.
Her shirt seemed to be complied of colourful fragments from a hundred other places, sewn together with black thread and all in the colours of yellow, pink and green.
She wore a shawl around their shoulders which seemed to be cut from an intricate rug and was filled to the brim on the inside with pockets, each filled with sewing materials, the likes of which Wanderer had never seen.
Atop their freckled nose sat gold rimmed glasses, which contrasted their caramel skin, and atop their head lay a dashing wide brimmed hat, with a feather sticking out the end.
Despite the chaotic mix of colours, textures and tones, the whole mess of an outfit seemed to almost magically work together, pleasing Wanderer’s vision and inspiring a incredible sense of awe in the Golem.
“They are an artist!” Wanderer reflected as they watched, stunned by the way that such a random assortment of fabrics managed to invoke feelings of awe in much the same way the music box did, or even nature itself.
“Like what you see?”, the artisan said with a bemused expression, having noticed Wanderer’s staring.
The Golem did like what they saw, very much so, and made sure to show their affirmation.
The smug look on the woman’s face quickly evolved at Wanderers affirmation, turning from enjoyment to outright mirth as a laugh bellowed from deep within her throat.
It was surprising to Wanderer, what a real laugh sounds like, it was a hearty and joyful sound that made their own laugh, the laugh inside their mind, feel painfully inadequate.
If the Vessel laughed right now, would anyone even know, would anyone even be able to share in their joy.
As if sensing their thoughts, the sentient bundle of cactus in their arms hugged themselves a little closer into the Golem’s soft flesh, their many limbs providing an inescapable net of care.
In an instant, Wanderer realised their worries were all for naught, not only did they have Emio, but their Spirit as well, each of which could share in the Vessel’s joy in their own way.
The woman’s laughter calmed down and she wiped a tear from her eye as she introduced herself.
“I am Heruhka, I'm the mercarlio around here”, they announced, patting Wanderer on one of their many shoulders as they did so.
“This reroshra over here says you need a erolariag,” Herukah said as they pointed to the incensed warrior beside them, who was sending a thoroughly ignored death stare, “to help you blend in with the Kershakreheh above”.
Before Wanderer could reply, she continued.
“Can't eaire I have ever worked with a Gorlesha, but I'm always looking for an Orshkara, and I don't get much of that in my werlekre.
Wanderer in truth didn't truly understand what Herukah was saying, but it was humorous and well intentioned, so they found themself agreeing anyway.
She leaned in closer, voice taking on a loud whisper.
“So why don't we ditch this reroshra, and get you and your friend something to wear?”, Heruhka said with a wink.
Before the Golem could even reply, they had been grabbed by the arm and were pulled away into the racks of clothes, not even able to thank Detlashra before they disappeared into a cramped room, filled with fabric.