WoV, Book 1, chapter 11: Shopping trip, Part Deux

Following along took them into a downward slope. The insides of the workshop, or whatever this place was, clashed quite a bit with the outside. For the most part, the walls of the buildings that laid within Ul’dah were somewhat drab. Oh certainly, the architecture itself was quite pretty and there were an abundance of small stalls, banners and sunshades livening up the streets with all the colors of the rainbow and then some. But it didn’t stop the fact that the walls were almost all the same uniform reddish-brown, to the point it was a bit hard to tell what was part of which building at times. Even in the Quicksands, things weren’t exactly the most colorful. There were colored, geometrical reliefs along the foot of the walls. But beyond those, it kept the same sort of relatively drab color scheme as the outside– just with a lot more polished wood.

Here though, there was a dazzling array of colors covering the walls. Not one inch was free of a tile, carving or relief all but bursting with pigmentation. Heck, there were even some purple ones too. Which conflicted a tad with the simple, colorless linen outfit of their guide.

Their walk ended next to a room that smelled like wood and smoke, “In here.” Opening the door, the guide revealed a small workshop. Barely big enough for Muur, Kofle and the current occupant to fit in. Speaking of, the ‘master’ was a large lalafell, who took a long drag from an ivory smoking pipe as they entered. Interestingly, he seemed to have a full, golden beard on him, making him look less like a parody of a gnome, and instead one of a dwarf.

He was seated on a thin cushion, a low table in front of him. On it were three small glasses of steaming tea and a metallic teapot. He made a small harrumphing sound, before setting the broken staff on the table.

Kofle shuffled a bit awkwardly, before eventually sitting down in front of one of the glasses, Muur following suit not a moment later. The lizard was just quietly wondering what the absolute hell she had gotten drawn into.

“I made this five years ago,” The man eventually said, grabbing his glass and taking a sip, “One of twenty, crafted on the eve of the battle of Carteneau. Some of my best work to this day,” Taking a long draft of his pipe, he blew the smoke directly at Kofle’s face, “Not one of the wielders survived. Some died to Garlean blades, others from being at the very center of the Dread Wyrm’s descent. The staves themselves aren’t in any better shape. Near half of them have been confirmed to have been shattered. Four are in the hands of corpse robbers, two are in this very city, and the rest are lost. So, tell me. How in the Seven Hells does a rookie adventurer have remains of one of the lost ones in their possession?”

Kofle’s explanation of why was  short, simple and concise. She had been at Carteneau, bled and killed on that battlefield. The staff, and the life of the one that had been wielding it, had been shattered on that day, one of the Garlean’s warmachines had smashed it to pieces with a single swing of their weapon. Without time to mourn, that fragment was shoved into a pouch in the hopes of using it in place of the body during a funeral.

When pressed on why it was still with her, and why exactly a veteran of that battle was wasting time as a no-name adventurer. She got very quiet, before eventually admitting that she saw Bahamut’s (even using the monster’s name, rather than a euphemism) shatter its prison from so close that she thought that by reaching out with her hand, she would have been able to touch the mountain sized dragon.

“As broken as this thing huh…” The craftsman said soberly, “Can’t rightly blame you. After the calamity came to pass, it took me three years to pick my tools back up. Fine, I’ll make your friend a staff. What is it you want from it?”

“Something heavy duty, first and foremost.” Muur explained, spine ramrod straight. If they could push away the rancid atmosphere after that last exchange, she was all for it. “I have Mememeno Syndrome, for one. I was taught to blend my Thaumaturgy with melee, for another. So I need something that can take all the punishment I can dish out, physically and aetherically.”

“Mememeno Syndrome? That… honestly just sounds like something one of the five came up with on the spot,” He grumbled, “Never heard of it, I’m afraid. I suppose I’ll have to make a trip to the library… As for the rest, when you say you were taught to blend Thaumaturgy with melee. What exactly do you mean?”

“Cocobezi certainly said its name with conviction back at the Ossuary.” The lizard wizard said with a small roll of her shoulders, very pointedly not denying the possibility outright. “As for the blending? I can and will use my staff as both a bludgeon and a fireball dispensary, and have learned how to let out spells at point blank range relatively safely.”

“Hmm, in that case I don’t believe we need to use a fully metallic body. This will reduce the price drastically,” Taking a piece of paper, he quickly began to sketch out the staff, “But, doing that would reduce the number of striking areas. Realistically, only the very tip would be viable as a means to hit your enemies at close range.”

“Conversely, I’d rather not block a stray attack and end up with half a staff.” Muur said as she started counting her money, “Let’s talk budgets and price projections, yeah?”

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“Satisfied?” Koffle asked as the two adventurers returned to the streets.

The last hour or so had been Muur and the craftsman going back and forth. One asking for features, the other offering his expertise and opinions on what was and wasn’t doable with the budget the lizard had at her disposal. With the occasional, and surprisingly pertinent, comment from the cat.

In the end, the staff was to be a fully metallic one. The body would be one of good quality, though not quite the best, steel. Wrapped around a mythril core, with the head and other more areas more likely to be used to strike at people used there as well. On its own, this would have made an exceptionally good whacking stick. However, its ability to channel aether would have been severely lacking. As a result, it was decided that it would have a single electrum wire, buried in the mythril, running through the entire length.

Of course, that was if her condition didn’t require any special accommodation. In which case, a runner would be sent to fetch her for another round of discussion, and a re-evaluation of the price.

Oh man she couldn’t wait to start cracking skulls with that monster.

“...I’ll take your silence, and the fact that you’re bouncing in place like a kitten that got in the honey jar as a ‘Yes’,” Then, quieter, she mumbled, “Is that what I’m like?”

“Shut.” Muur replied on reflex before she even really registered what the cat was needling her about. Not that she was going to admit to that. “Let a girl fantasize about her heavy metal rod.”

“I mean… I’ve seen better ones?” Kofle said with a shrug, “It’s a good one. Proper girthy, and all. But I’m still saying it’s a bit long for you. You know? I wouldn’t use it, and I’m taller than you are.”

“That’s why God saw fit to give me a tail like this.” The lizard replied without missing a beat, curling the appendage in question in a mock strongman pose. “Besides, I’m good with my hands, it’ll be fine no matter where I put it.”

“True. Your tail can probably handle larger loads than mine– rougher treatment too,” Kofle conceded with a nod, “And the rod’s tough enough it shouldn’t get damaged by your scales. I’m a bit wary of it getting yanked though. Mine can slip in and out of a grip easily enough, but yours’ too big for that.”

“You’d be surprised how much muscle I’m packing here.” Muur said with a meaty smack to the side of her tail, “If someone wants a struggle snuggle, they’re going to get it.”

“Yeeeeah, no. I’m still not convinced,” The cat grumbled, “I don’t think I have any choice but to get some hands-on experience with it. See how it really feels to hold and stroke up and down.”

“Sure, I don’t mind sharing. Especially with an old hand like you.” Muur chuckled, lightly bumping her hips with her friend’s.

“I’ll have you know I’m not old! I’m of the average adventuring age! I’ve got plenty of time ahead of me before I can be considered ‘old’!” She grumbled, swatting at Muur with her own tail, “In any case. Doesn’t matter how thick, long and hard that rod’s gonna be without some proper protection… Here, that shop’s one that specializes in that for people with tails. We should be able to get you a half decent one.”

“Alright, let’s see what we’re working with.” The lizard woman said with a bob of her horned head.

As a shop catering to a specific demographic, it wasn’t too surprising when it turned out to be a proper store instead of a street side display of questionable professionalism.

Passing through the wide open doors, it turned out to be a relatively small place, barely any larger than Muur’s room at the temple. It was filled with displays of armor from wall to wall, some pristine, others not so much, “You need a chainmail, yeah?”

“Yep. I’d like something that I can just slip under my robes and have covering from my collarbone to my thighs, but just some leather armor is fine too.” The lizard replied with a bob of her head.

“Chainmail’s probably better bang for your buck than leather armor for now. You know how the staff maker said that wood needs heavy treatment, or to be of a very specific type, to be worth anything as a clubbing tool? Same thing here,” Kofle told Murr as she moved towards the chainmail selection, “Let’s see… Yeah, those aren’t super expensive. Oh, huh. They got a mythril one for sale.”

Amidst the many iron and steel mails, was one that was of a brilliant, near-silver blue. The craftsmanship of it was also obviously superior… But so was the price.

“Yeah, that ain’t happening even with the discount.” Muur snorted at the listed number. If she hadn’t given that downpayment for the staff, she’d afford it easily. Alas, priorities.

“Oh, I’m sure something can be worked out!” Out from behind the counter, came a hyur. He approached the two with a sale’s man smile on his lips, showing just enough teeth to be slightly disturbing thanks to how his eyes seemed to rest in a nearly shut position as he navigated closer to them, and how he rubbed his hands together, “You see, as part of a deal with Gold Sands banking, this shop offers rather competitive lending rates~! If you’d be so inclined, allow me t–”

“Thank you for the offer, but I would rather not deal with debts and interest rates. How much for this one?” Muur softly but firmly cut him off, pointing at a promising set of steel chainmail that ought to fit her tiny body well enough.

“Oh, but–” The man tried to push further. His smile straining against his pale, somewhat sickly looking, sandstone coloured skin.

“Sir, the best you will get from me in regards to that mythril shirt is a downpayment of a hundred gil to save it for me until I have completed the extermination job Guildmaster Cocobezi has lined up for me.” The lizard woman delivered her ultimatum with all the grace of a mace to the teeth, idly unhooking the steel chainmail from its rack to examine it properly.

“Well–” “We don’t take down payments,” A new voice said as a surly looking elezen in green clothes took a place behind the counter, “Too likely for adventurers to decide to run off with the goods and never pay. Or worse, die while wearing it. So no can do there,” He said with the sigh of a man that had to say this far too many times, “I would still recommend buying it though. It’s better than steel by a magnitude.” “Yes, exact–!” “It’s probably not going anywhere for a few more days. So if you change your mind, you know where to find one.”

“May’ve used the wrong term, I meant paying a fee for you to reserve it for a few days, but if it’s going to stick around regardless…” Muur made a thoughtful hum, “Ah, well, we’ll just see if I can get the money in time. For now, I’d like to buy this.”

“Still wouldn’t take it,” The clerk said with a shrug, “Invites too many headaches when it comes to working with adventurers. Right, this thing? Hmm, there’s a changing booth behind the scale armor displays. Could you try it out to make sure it fits your frame?”

“Appreciated!” With that and a swish of her tail, she was off.

__________________________________________________________________________

Luckily, it didn’t need too much of a resizing. Or one at all for that matter! After paying for it, it was a simple affair to stow it away and return to the markets one last time. The sun’s rays were getting long and only the barest of pink in the sky told Muur that it hadn’t quite finished its descent. The street they returned to was a far less crowded one, a number of shops gathering their merchandise and counting the day’s profits as they closed.

But the vast majority were still open, letting the two continue their little shopping trip, “And now, all that’s left are some day-to-day clothes?” Kofle asked as she finished packing her new armored boots and pants.

“Pretty much. Saved them for last since the Ossuary is giving me some essentials in that regard, but it’d be nice to have some clothes that I actually own and aren’t falling to pieces.” Muur replied with a bob of her head.

“Makes sense. You don’t have a whole lot of gil left for now, so do you have any preferences on what you want to have?” The cat asked, “Anything fancy for example?”

“I want something low-end and hard-wearing for if I end up having to do any messy jobs, something for just day to day traveling, and something nice looking enough I won’t get dirty looks if I have to go somewhere relatively upscale.” The lizard woman rattled off with a roll of her shoulders, “I can skip on the last one for now if need be.”

“It shouldn’t be too hard to find one of each honestly,” Taking the lead once again, Kofle pulled Muur along, “For heavy duty clothes, we can grab a set that’s meant for people that are employed by Amajina and Son. Can’t do better than miner’s clothes for that, and they’re dirt cheap to make sure the workers can afford them even on almost no income.”

“As for something nice–,” She paused before nodding at a woman chatting and laughing with another, “I’m thinking these would fit. It’s called an ‘Oasis’ set?” The two wore the same outfit. Reaching past their hips was a rather simple brown and breezy top, that gave view to a generous amount of skin via a V cut, but without being lewd or inappropriate in the slightest. It was kept in place by coloured sashes wrapped around and above the hips,

Passing a bit closer, the Au’Ra saw that their chest was bound with a white cloth that had bended in with their skin in the growing darkness, and that the sort of tabard that dangled down to their knees was actually part of the white pants, rather than the top.

Overall it would have looked quite plain, if not for bands of geometrical embroidery lining the edges of the top and decorating the loincloth. They weren’t gold, but their powerful safran yellow color cut through the brown in the same manner as it would have, pushing it just far enough into the ‘formal clothes’ category that they could be used for both everyday wear and more important occasions.

“It’s pretty popular in the middle-upper class, mostly because they can afford to dye it. But the brown version’s cheap enough,” Kofle told her, before frowning, “Ironically, I think the traveling clothes are both gonna be the hardest to find, and the more expensive of the three…”

“Not surprised there, that sort of clothes need to put up with a lot of very different conditions.” Muur hummed after nodding at all of her friend’s proposals. Sounded like a plan so far.

“Yeah. I’d almost argue that a second set of miner’s clothes would do the trick in a pinch, but we’ll keep that as a last resort,” Just as she’d said, both the set of miner and Oasis clothes turned out quite cheap. At least compared to the rest of their acquisitions, the last item on their shopping list eluded them, “I’m starting to think we’ll have to forget about getting something made purely for trekking through the desert, and everything else.”

“Maybe there’s a store or two aimed for adventurers we could hit up?” The lizard woman offered, but her heart wasn’t really in it.

“Maybe, but that’d put us over budget…” Kofle grumbled, her heart in a similar place.

“Ah, forgive me?” A voice came from behind them, “I couldn’t help but overhear you.”

Turning around, the two saw a man smiling at them somewhat awkwardly, “You are looking for a set of traveling clothes, no? I believe I know of a place that sells some of great quality for rather cheap. If you are interested, they are the same that I am wearing.”

Muur’s friend looked him up and down as soon as he made his offer. He was a hyur– midlander, based on his height and the relative softness of his traits. Combined with how he wore his auburn hair long and flowing, his appearance screamed ‘Pretty Boy’ at the top of its lungs. Which was in stark contrast to his clothes, they were not ratty or filthy, but they sure as hell had seen a lot of travel. Sun-bleached segments, stitches and even the odd blended in patch. 

Taking a good look at his outfit, the lizard could tell it was a simple, but effective one. A black undershirt with a long, cream coloured, tunic on top. Which ended in pleats just above the knees. His pants were tight to the skin without being suffocating– and the boots. God, the boots.

Her fabricated memories told her that his hairline would wear away before his knee high leather boots would. Perfect for long treks through any and all terrain, she was pretty sure they’d not even mind wading through mud. Completing the outfit was a brown cape wrapped around his shoulders, and the ever unnecessary amount of belts required of any Final Fantasy game, all tied around his waist. A purse, a dagger and a pouch dangling from them. 

“I definitely am.” Muur said with a bright grin, extending out her hand for a shake without hesitation, “Muur’Zagas Himaa. You?”

“Deryk,” He said with a nod and a handshake, “A pleasure to meet you.”

“E'Kofle Runhja,” Kofle introduced herself as, “I won't lie, I'm a bit dubious of these clothes being in our budget.”

“The man who makes them is a bit of an oddball. He has no love for money, and all the love of the world for the craft,” The hyur said with a shrug, “His wife is, as I've heard, someone that isn't in want of money, which is how he's been able to pursue his hobby of making clothes.”

“Not the weirdest story I've heard on why something's cheap,” The swordswoman allowed, before shrugging, “Lead the way I suppose.”

Flashing them a quick smile, Deryk began moving through the crowd, “I have to confess, I've only rarely seen members of your kin, Miss Himaa. What brings you to Eorzea?”

“Questionable decisions and a heap of luck, good and bad.” Muur replied completely truthfully, if not clearly. She didn’t much fancy getting chucked into whatever version of an insane asylum Eorzea had.

That got a chuckle out of the man, “I was hoping for more of a story, but that’s fair enough.” 

“Hah, thought you were asking about the motive.” The lizard woman snorted, shaking her head, “Alright, how about the story of how I managed to get from Werlyt to Eorzea proper?”