Skana found the shop she needed, easily enough. Unsurprisingly it was right next to a shop with weapons and armor on display. ‘Work clothing for all.’ She thought as she bypassed the displays of metal armor and the window full of swords. The sound of a hammer striking metal rang out and the faint smell of burning sulfur caused her nose to crinkle a little.
The clothing shop had a simple but elegant sign hanging from a pole jutting outward from the wall by the door, it swayed lightly in the breeze. The door opened and the faint smell of flowers wafted toward Skana’s nose, a young servant in a simple black and white dress made her exit holding a small box, and quickly scurried past and out of view down the street.
Skana watched her till she rounded the corner, ‘What’s her rush?’ She wondered with a dismissive shrug and reached for the door before it could close all the way. She walked in to find a thin old woman sitting at the far end opposite a slender, pale woman. Or rather, what Skana thought was a woman.
A second glance let her realize that it was an elf whose ears had been half severed. The pair were furtively working on a yellow dress with the deftness of fingers with a lifetime of practice behind them. When Skana entered, it was the elf who noticed her first, the ears twitched a little and she hastily stopped what she was doing and rose to her feet. “Welcome to the Silk’n Comfort.” She said with a smile Skana recognized as being ‘pasted’ on.
“How can I help you?” She asked and left her place from around the counter to approach the customer. She tilted her chin up to reveal the locked collar around her neck and then curtseyed deeply with eyes downcast. The curtsey was perfect, her hands held the white linen dress and her right foot crossed her left and turned so that the tip of her white slipper touched the red carpet on the floor which led to the counter.
Around them there were wooden torsos carved in the shapes of women with various bust sizes, each one wearing a different style of dress, each one ranged from expensive to absurdly expensive at a glance.
Skana felt the weight of her poverty crushing down on her with the luxury of the shop. The old woman in the back never broke the pace of her work even when she glanced at Skana out of the corner of her eye.
“Ah, I’m here for… for a shirt, something a lady of means would wear.” Skana said and looked away from the slender elf, who immediately went over to a model with a ruffled white shirt that was laced up the front.
“If your mistress would like something casual as opposed to a dress-” She paled when Skana shook her head.
“Under armor. She’ll be wearing it under her armor. A monster tore the last one.” Skana explained and cleared her throat, “To say it how she did, ‘I need a shirt under this so it doesn’t rub my tits raw.’
The elf woman blinked her dull eyes and briefly broke out into a tittering laugh that snapped the old woman’s head up. “You got time for laughter, you got time to sew. Finish up with her and get back here, Laeila.” The elf woman all but jumped out of her skin.
“Yes, yes of course, mistress, I’ll be quick, I promise!” She said and the laughter vanished, “Ah, you want a half gambosen, but ah… is she with you, My Lady?” The elf woman leaned to the side and looked past her, “If it is a general size it might not fit properly.”
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“Just sell them an enchanted one and hurry up, the Countess wants this done in a fortnight! If I have to tell you one more time, you’ll be working through the night again!” The old crone snapped, and Laeila bowed her head.
“We do have an enchanted one if she’s not here to be fitted, it isn’t a high tier enchantment, it just stays dry, but like all enchanted items, they reshape themselves to the body of the wearer.” Leiala obeyed and blinked her eyes, her hands wrung together nervously in front of her waist.
She looked at Skana with her dull green eyes, a silent plea passing between them. On looking closer, dark circles were beneath the Leiala’s eyes as if a lot of sleep had been lost lately. “That will be fine.” Skana said, “Please bring it out, I wouldn’t want to keep you.” She said and reached for her coinpurse.
It was only then that the old woman looked at her more closely, “You didn’t ask the price.”’
“Because it doesn’t matter. The one I’m buying for is a Baroness, and she is the mistress of the Black Quivers, an elite band of mercenaries made up only of those who bear the blood of ancient gods. They may not be awakened bloodlines, but they’re still worth any two normal people, most of them.” Skana said it with pride, though she mentally winced when she recalled punching her idol in the face. ‘Like punching a stone.’ She thought and gave her hand a shake as the phantom pain returned for a moment.
The old crone looked her up and down yet again, “Then why are you dressed like that? You should have proper servant clothing.”
“I’m new. And I’m one of her company. I should have proper clothing and equipment waiting for me when we get to Wenmark.” Skana explained, and the old woman set down her needle and thread to rush to the counter, suddenly all smiles.
“I see, I see. Well I hope I didn’t offend you, if so, please let me apologize properly.” The old woman gave an ingratiating smile and imitated the curtsey offered by Leiala a moment before, right down to the way she bowed her head.
“Offend me?” Skana scratched her head.
“By having my elf attend to you instead.” The old woman explained, “It’s fairly normal practice,” she hastened the words out of her mouth as if she thought Skana was twisting the knife in a pretense of confusion, “monied people only attend to the direct servants of monied people or the monied themselves… forgive me, you were not dressed appropriately so I didn’t recognize your station.”
The old woman was practically breathless when she was done explaining, and Skana, for her part, only wanted to leave. “No, no, it’s fine, it’s fine!” She put up her hands as if to calm a rabid dog, “You couldn’t know. Besides, she seemed eager to help. I’m sure she’s excellent at her work. There’s no need to apologize.” Skana rushed out her words as the weight of awkwardness and discomfort settled heavier on her heart.
The elf woman appeared again a moment later, rushing through the door with a lightly padded gambeson, it was ‘thick’ less a shirt than practice armor, being made of cotton and stuffed with material. “This will do fine, thank you, and can I have a regular shirt as well, something sized for a girl about a hand and a half shorter than I, small bust, something for regular use. Off the mannequin will be fine. We’re not staying long enough to have it resized.”
The truth was, it was wrong. Skana knew the gambeson wasn’t what Speranzi had in mind, but seeing the way the green pupils flitted from Skana to the lady of the shop, the former brigand could feel the anxiety of failure seeping off the servant.
To her mind came the time of captivity under the demihuman occupiers, that sense of anxiousness and fear permeated the pens where Skana and the others were held. ‘It seems like I’d make trouble for the poor thing if I said this wasn’t what I intended.’ She reached into the pouch and began drawing out gold coins, the elven slave approached hastily to take them, then scurried to the counter and drew a folded blue shirt from just out of view.
“We keep some of these in stock, it’s silk so it’s durable, but not golden orb spider silk, if this is acceptable, My Lady?” The elf’s fingers twitched and she didn’t look up from the folded fabric, but Skana could see the listless fear in the reflection on the polished countertop.
“It will be fine.” Skana replied, “Keep the difference.” She added and taking both the shirt and light gambeson under one arm, Skana focused her eye on the old woman. “Thank you for your help.” The smile she gave to the old woman felt as pasted on as when she’d given it to the orcs who held her prisoner, but she used her finest ability as a performer to ensure she at least appeared to be of a sunny disposition.
“You’re welcome back any time.” The old crone answered in return, then curtseyed to her patron, her servant imitating the gesture in her own right. The two held it until Skana left and the door shut behind her.
‘What a pitiable existence. That’s like living your whole life in one of those godawful pens…’ She shivered with barely suppressed horror at the memory, barely noticing that her steps were quicker than before, making the distance between herself and the shop grow by the second until she returned to the little door in the alley. She held the knob long enough to let out a deep sigh of relief, then opened it inward to return to Speranzi again.