“Soooo… why are you following me?” I ask the creepy, kind of handsome middle aged guy who rudely abducted me and ushered me down this side path.
“No reason. I'm just headed this way as well, is all.” he replies, the self assured grin plastered on his face never wavering.
Sighing, I hurry my pace and quickly arrive at a large, dark oaken door. Presumably, leading to this costume shop. Where I am supposed to get a costume, according to that jerk…
We have something like this in the bardic college as well, though theatrical performances are rare and heavily regulated. Disguising- and Shapeshifting skills are relegated to higher tiers, but entirely possible to obtain for people inclined to go that route, and people in the theatrical arts seem to be infinitely more likely to obtain them.
This, obviously, is a huge problem for the inquisition, and the country's administration at large. High tiered people of any class going rogue can cause immense chaos, and if they can simply slip away and become someone else at a whim, catching them becomes a severe headache for whoever has to do it. It gets even worse if they use their powers to impersonate officials or nobility.
At least shapeshifting monsters are rare. In this dungeon, though, the only monsters I have encountered so far are mannequins and shapeshifters. I'm not actually sure my abductor belongs to either group, but I'm sure he is not as human as he looks.
Speaking off, when I put my hand on the door handle and pull open, I sneak a glance backwards to make sure he is still following me, but, to my surprise, he is not. Huh. Where did he disappear to so suddenly? There is not really any other exit to the hallway, other than the door in front of me, and I can see all the way to the first room on the other end…
I knew he was weird already, but now I get to add a disappearing act to the creepy things he has done. I wonder if it’s just really good stealth, good enough to hide in a hallway without cover, and shudder for a second. Yeah the rest of the dungeon seems fun and all but this guy gives me the heebie-jeebies. And that's the technical term. I am also not particularly fond of having my identity stolen, but I can forgive that somewhat… after all, it's amazing being me. Who would not want that?
Shaking my head and trying to put the middle aged weirdo out of my mind, I take a step forward and cross the threshold of the next room.
The aroma of wood overwhelms my nostrils as I step into a room that is a veritable maze of shelves and wardrobes. The occasional mannequin stands there, wearing this accessory or that, but no outfits, at least not here near the entrance. Hats and scarves, mostly. On the shelves themselves, crates are piling up precariously, and chests and smaller boxes are lining the rest of the shelves’ room.
The floor here is different too, I realize. Instead of the smooth marble floor from before, I stand on sturdy wooden planks that squeak slightly as I shift my weight experimentally. Good luck to any rogue trying to sneak through here.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
I begin wandering through the labyrinth, expecting someone, or something, to lurk around every corner. Contrary to what the monsters probably believe, I am not exactly helpless without my lute, but I am not eager to put myself to the test.
Being alone in this much more dimly lit space, with shelves looming overhead, my anxiety mounts, and I almost scream when I turn a corner to see a humanoid figure wearing drabs… only to realize it is a mannequin, standing stock still in an indent between two shelves. Okay, Goddess, that was scary. Deep breaths, Ellie, it’s just a mannequin. Steadying myself against a shelf, I try to calm down, when a noise catches my attention from further ahead. It sounds like the shuffling of clothes, indicating that there might be people up ahead. Or monsters.
Another deep breath to center me, and I set off in that direction, trying my best to be quiet as I peek around the corner to see a large, open space, in a roughly circular shape. Several hallways lead towards this space, where 10 mannequins are arranged in a circle, wearing a variety of different outfits, from gaudy ball gowns to a beggars shabby woolen shirt.
I look around carefully, but see no people, and no sign of movement. If the mannequins are indeed of the moving variety, they manage to stay very, very still. Well, these are obviously all costumes, though I cannot for the life of me figure out what they all have in common. Maybe they are not all to be used for the same production?
Carefully, I enter the room, and begin to circle around the outfits, inspecting them more closely.
The Ballgown that I noticed first is there, a long, green piece with soft, flowing fabric that looks impeccably elegant.
Then there is a robe of a deep blue, stars and constellations twinkling that are stitched into it with golden threat.
It is followed by a dress uniform in smooth black, with golden embellishments denoting some sort of rank. The embellishments look nothing like those used by the Areiosian military, but the overall style is very similar.
Next, there is a set of well-worn leather armor, complete with a dark cloak and deep hood, like one would expect a seasoned rogue to wear.
A maid dress adorns the next mannequin, a white apron draped over the plain black dress that goes down to the mannequin's ankles and sports white highlights. It looks very formal and proper, somehow.
The fifth mannequin shocks me, as it sports a mirror to the uniform I am wearing, a plain robe with some leather pieces that's worn under the blue tabard proudly displaying the emblem of our bardic college in golden thread.
It is followed by a beggar's ripped and dirty woolen shirt, and baggy cloth pants that complete the look.
A step further, I see the white, priestly robes typically worn by clerics. They are unadorned and plain, like any devout member of the clergy likes them, but sport metallic pieces of armor like pauldrons and greaves, marking this as a warrior priest’s vesture.
Flanking it can be seen a shining and polished set of platemail, a red cloak resembling a tapestry or maybe a stage curtain draped over one of its shoulders.
The penultimate set is a black robe, fitted with some leather armor to cover the wearer's vitals, also in all black. The mannequin’s head is covered with a mask featuring a demonic humanoid with curved horns.
And finally, there is a plain red shirt and cloth pants, covered with an apron and complete with a chef’s hat.