Charlie held eye contact with the tailor. He stared at the poor woman, waiting for a response. She looked down at the coin on the counter, to the robe in Charlie's hand, and back to Charlie's face.

"I can't take this," she said. "This is way too much money!"

Charlie took a big breath in and a bigger breath out. In the background, he could hear Penny rummaging through the tailor's stock of clothing. Apparently, she had never even dared to enter a shop such as this. She was, as such, having the time of her life. He had lost sight of her as soon as they had entered; she was already causing a massive ruckus. Despite how the previous night had gone, he couldn't bring himself to discipline her, especially when considering she was simply enjoying being in a place she considered 'high class.' He re-centered his thoughts on the current issue. He cleared his throat.

"Is there any way you could perform the work, and I could come back and collect it later? When I have change? I evidently have the money to pay."

The woman mulled over this for a moment, obviously against the idea but still considering it. Charlie had known from the beginning that she would demand payment beforehand but figured he would still try; it said right on the door that they expected payment before the work was done. Charlie hadn't known how he could read the sign, which was in a scrawl similar to some foreign cursive, but he had. He didn't question it too much.

The tailor had directly stated that she was only taking one more order before starting her work. Apparently, the way she ran her shop was to take orders in the first few hours of the day and work the rest of it. Just like every other shop in town. Which were all closed for the day. Charlie glanced at Penny, who was currently trying to steal a pair of shoes, despite being fully aware that he was going to buy her a pair.

Charlie glanced back at the woman, who looked on the verge of saying no. He tried to sweeten the pot; he didn't want to deal with getting change and then coming back at a later date.

"Look," he said, "I will pay you 50% extra, and you get to keep the extra cloth from the robe. How does that sound? All I need is a simple dress, a small pair of boots, and some work clothes. And I need them soon."

The woman sighed before conceding.

"Very well, I suppose that should work. If we do that, you will owe me, say, 2 large sarm?"

Charlie simply nodded, still not completely sure of the value of money, but still sure it was a good deal. While walking around town, he had managed to piece together that the money here worked in a sort of tier system with no small change but rather a lot of different values of coins. No banknotes, only hard coins. He had figured that among them, the coins had small and large variants changing the coin's value, as well as different materials they were made out of. Those coins were, in order of value, the Sar, Sarm, Sarma, Sarmalis, and the mythical Sarmalisa. The Sarmalisa was unheard of, only nobles having possession of them. They were apparently worth drastically more than even the next in line, the Sarmalis, for no other reason than the rarity of what they were made of. Regardless, even the Sarmalis were worth more than what a store would typically accept, making it hard to shop with them. Regardless, Charlie would make do with what he had.

Charlie placed the robe on the counter and turned away, looking for Penny. Somehow, she had managed to actually hide the shoes she had snagged. She was standing behind him, looking up at him with the kind of innocent, empty eyes he had only ever witnessed on a pug. He supposed the lazy eye helped with that effect. He decided now was a good time to go over a ground rule.

"No stealing. Put them back."

Penny looked shocked, befuddled, confused, and downright insulted.

"I din do nuffin."

"Put them back."

"You stole from that Cultist!"

"What?" The Tailor questioned.

Charlie ignored her, staring Penny in the eye. He brought his hands up and shrugged as if to say, 'Your point?'.

"Fair."

Penny then produced the shoes out of thin air. Like, literally, Charlie could not figure out where they came from. One moment her hands were empty, the next there were shoes in them. She hadn't even moved. Charlie froze for a moment, as if his mind were stuttering, before completely disregarding it. It wasn't important. He watched as she put the shoes back and turned back towards the woman behind the counter. The woman who also decided not to question the magically appearing shoes. He then spoke.

"You're gonna need her measurements now?"

The woman nodded a single time.

"Alright. Can you make it a size or two too large? The girl is probably gonna be gaining some weight in the coming weeks."

"I can do that," she responded.

----------------------------------------

Charlie walked down the street next to Penny, who was sporting a new pair of boots. They were apparently the first shoes Penny had ever actually worn, and it was taking her some getting used to. The shoes were the only new thing she was wearing; they would have to wait until the next day to pick up the rest of her new garments. Charlie walked slowly in order to accommodate Penny's speed. She had already been slow due to her abnormally short stature, but the new boots made it even worse for her though, Charlie had to admit she was quite cute clomping around in the things, even if she was frustrated at it. Penny stopped and glared daggers at him as he failed to suppress a chuckle. They looked like clown shoes on her. She attempted to kick his shin and missed, earning her more chuckles.

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"Why boots?" she questioned, "I understand shoes, and I'm grateful, but why boots? I can barely move in these things!"

"Because," Charlie responded through chortles, "We're gonna be working with robots."

Penny stared up at him questioningly.

"I've heard you say that before, but I still don't know what that is."

Charlie smacked himself on the forehead. He'd completely forgotten to tell her of the glory of robotics! Pitying her, and in an effort to make sure she could hear him better, he reached down and picked her up, placing her on his shoulder like before. Unlike last time, she didn't seem to mind. He took a big breath in and cleared his throat, preparing to explain. However, just as he was about to, they arrived at their destination. He let his breath out and went in through the entrance. He had to duck a little to make sure Penny didn't hit her head on the doorway.

"I'll tell you about it later. Just know that everything that comes next is required to make one."

Walking in, the two were blasted with a wall of sweltering air. It felt like what Charlie imagined walking into a forge would feel like. He thought this because it's what they had done. He looked around the room, admiring all that he saw. The room was huge, with displays lining the walls and flooding the floor space. The displays were quite sparse, actually containing scant few tools or weapons, let alone any kind of armor. It seemed unnatural that an armory would be this empty. Of course, this didn't actually matter to Charlie. He was here for something else.

Looking around, Charlie spotted a tall, wiry old man in the back behind the counter. He appeared to be whittling away at something. Charlie made his way over.

"Hey!" Charlie called to the man. "Could you help me with something?"

As he approached, Charlie lowered Penny from his shoulder and placed her on the ground. She had gone wide-eyed with wonder the moment they had entered. Before she could run off, Charlie gave her a stern warning not to steal. She ran off underneath some tables, disappearing. She had probably already swiped something. Oh well. He'd tried.

Charlie looked back at the man he had called out to and found that he hadn't looked away from whatever it was he was whittling. So he tried again.

"Hey. I, uh," Charlie cleared his throat. "I need some help with a project I'm working on. Think you could help me out?"

The man continued whittling for a few seconds before sighing, scratching his beard with his knife, and looking at Charlie. He looked worn and tattered, as if used up by life behind the fire. His beard was white and patchy, with soot mixed in all over. His eyes were old and wet, like those of an old hound. He looked at Charlie for an uncomfortable length of time before speaking.

"You with tha guard?"

"No?"

"Oh."

They sat in silence for another awkward moment before the old man spoke. He seemed to pick up in spirits a bit.

"Sorry for the silence, then. Thought you were one a them bastards coming to muscle me outa a shipment or somethin."

Charlie glanced at the sparse tables and racks behind him before looking back at the old man.

"Is that why your shop is so empty?"

Charlie was not expecting the tirade this caused.

"Yea. They came through a coupla weeks ago an' emptied me. Said it was for the rising cultist threat, but not one of em' has actually caught one. I only agreed to the original deal cuz one of em' bastard cultists took muh son, but those lazy buffoons ain done nothin with what I gave em. Fur some reason I signed that deal as a contract, so now they is basically robbin me. As I am, ahm barely even open now. Probably close shop in a month er so. Hell, they keep comin' back n' takin more. I'll bet they's just using me to fill thems armory. But that ain your problem. What can ah do fur yah."

Charlie took a moment to parse through that before deciding it wasn't his problem and going ahead with his request. He placed three Somalis on the table and looked at the old man.

"I need as much brass, copper, and steel as you can part with."

The old man looked down at the money on the desk and computed for a moment before responding.

"Ratio? And Purity?"

"9% steel, 5% brass, 5%copper. Can you make stainless steel?"

"Stainless?"

Charlie bit his lip and considered before continuing.

"I just need the highest grade you can manage."

The man took his turn to pause and consider. He looked confused but serious.

"That's a lotta metal. What're you usin it for?"

"I'm making a robot."

"What?"

Charlie quickly ran through his mind to figure out the closest thing this guy would understand. He hated saying this, but it was the closest he could figure might work.

"I'm making a metal golem."

The old man's eyebrows shot straight to his forehead, shock, and awe showing on his face. He shook his head, not believing Charlie.

"Thas not possible!"

"Doesn't matter what you think. Will you sell me the metal?"

"What're you gonna use this apparent golem for?"

Charlie sputtered. He was getting impatient. He said the easiest thing to seal the deal the quickest.

"C-cultists! I'm hunting cultists!"

The man's face turned to stone. He stared at Charlie for a moment before pocketing the money and walking towards the back, entering a door behind the counter. Charlie began calming now, though he was still antsy. He could feel himself getting ever closer to his dreams.