A Bright and Shiny Life

I find the inn quickly by its large sign depicting a bubbling otter easily discernible from across the square. I walk in and see a mostly empty common room with only a few merchant looking people eating an afternoon meal, and a pair of thugs sitting against the walls watching the room.

“How much for room and board?” I say, walking up to the bar.

The tender answers with a practiced speech performed in a loud drone. “Today’s meal is a piece of hard bread served with weak broth and a watered-down ale– one mid copper. Common room is also one mid copper. It opens to sleepers an hour after dark, until then we only want you here if you’re eating or drinking.”

“What about private rooms?”

He looks me up and down questioning if I have coin but decide it’s fastest just to answer. “Private rooms are a mid-silver. It comes with one free meal, a candle, bed, small table and chair, small stove, and a small tub which one of the servants will fill for you once with boiling water. The door has a good lock, and can be locked and barred from the inside. Extra candles are one copper, extra boiled water is two, and fuel can be purchased for the stove.”

“I’ll pay up front.” I say, putting down a medium silver coin I received from Tanyth.

The barkeep picks up the coin and examines it, looking for evidence of clipping or sweating. It’s a little worn, but not enough to complain about.

“Where did you get this?” He asks harshly, re-examining my attire and coming to the same conclusion as before, but now with the suspicion of theft.

“I’m a traveling herbmonger. I just sold a load at Morrison’s for a decent price. Hence my wanting a secure and private room while I stay the night.”

He nods sternly, eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I know Morri.” But then soften his expression as he reaches for a key. “You’re just in luck then, we’re down to our last one. You’ll just be staying the one night then?”

“Fraid so. Morri gave me a good deal, but not with these prices… When do you think the empire will finally root out the rebels?”

Their face darkens. Interesting. A sympathizer? Might be useful– probably not. Well, I suppose if they get to charge these prices then they might view us kinder than most here.

“I wouldn’t know about that.” They say. “Tala will take you to your room.”

“Thanks. One more thing. Morri recommended a shoemaker named Frathith. Do you know anything about that?”

“Frath? Yeah, their shop is on one of the back streets behind us. It’s a bit twisty back there, but I’m sure Tala will show you the way if you give her a copper.”

“That would be fine, thank you.”

“Right. Tala, Guest!”

A serving girl about my age comes running in the room.

“Take this guest to the last room.” The barkeeper says, handing her the key.

“Right this way.” Tala says and leads me up the stairs into a hall with several rooms, then inserts the key in a heavy padlock and opens the door for me. “Here we are. Everything to your satisfaction?”

First, I inspect the lock. Heavy but with a narrow keyhole.

Everything is clean and a small window lets in natural light. The chair and desk look rickety, but will likely support my meagre weight.

The floor is wood without obvious holes except for the washbasin on a thin raised stone section, slanted to a small hole in the wall to drain spilled water. Also on the stone section is the small copper stove.

I check the bed for bugs and am pleasantly surprised when I feel it.

“Feathered?”

“Yes. Mister Bathan is quite proud of those. They were a big draw for the repeats before the troubles.”

“Are they as good as they say?”

“Oh yes, I can attest to that.”

“You sleep on one too?”

“Sleep? No. But I nap sometimes.”

“I see.”

“Well then, if that’ll be all I’ll be leaving you.” She says, handing me the key. “If you need anything just hollar for me like everyone else. If it’s relating to the inn then I’ll rush and do what I can. If not, I’m sure we can come to a price.

“Mister Bathan is a flexible employer. He lets me do my own enterprise so long as it doesn’t interfere with his. I mostly fetch stuff from market or deliver messages, but I’m willing to hear out anything.”

“There is one thing.” I say, holding up a copper. “Bathan, if that was him at the bar, said you could show me to Frathith the shoemaker.”

“Frathith?” She says considering the coin. “Sure, it’s short enough for that. You leaving your stuff?”

“…Just a little. These locks look robust but… times being what they are.” I go to the table and set the bag of food on it. The rest of the pack will be awkward when getting fitted, but I wouldn’t trust the Biblio Anar to any lock. Since I’m taking that, that means the pack, and I don’t have anything else heavy enough to be worth leaving but cheap enough not to care about losing.

“Suit yourself.” She says, before leaving the room and waiting outside for me to relock the door before taking me out back through the twisting alleys.

About a hundred paces later we arrive, and she takes her leave and the coin. I enter the shop.

“Be with you in a moment.” A man in his mid twenties says hunched over a boot. A few moments later he sets it aside and looks at me expectantly.

“You make imperial boots?” I ask, recognizing the pattern of boot as one I have much experience with pulling off corpses.

“What that? Yeah. Why? You a rebel here to kill me for collaborating?” He laughs, but quiets when I don’t join in. “…Arkothans are cheap bastards, but not completely inflexible with their prices when costs shoot up. I still make enough selling to them to feed myself– barely– and I don’t have to pay taxes on this place if I make quota.

“So, as long as nobody’s buying new with all these dead soles flooding the market, I might as well keep working making them boots with the cheapest leather I can get away with…” He looks at my feet. “You need new shoes kid.” He states with a flat humour.

“…Verily.” I say matching his sarcasm.

“What, dead soles aren't good enough for a dirt farmer?”

“Wearing some. We don’t get along. At least I don’t think they’ll take me where I’m going. Also, I’m an herbmonger.” I say, realizing the last bit is technically true now, and feeling upset at being dismissed as less.

“And where’s that?” He says, ignoring my protest.

“Central… the capital.”

He whistles. “You’re walking all the way to the imperial capital? You’ll need good boots for that. It might be cheaper just to walk to Pavlos and buy ship passage to as close as you can get.”

“As I said, I’m an herbmonger, and herbs typically don’t grow on boats.”

He shrugs. “So, you’ll be going off road allot then? That’ll be even more expensive, especially now.”

“I have the coin.”

“I’m in the wrong line of work then.”

“…Herbalism involves spending a lot of time alone in the woods. Who knows what you’ll encounter. Venomous snakes, angry boars…rebels.”

“Maybe not then. Alright, come over here and I’ll take your measurements.”

I sit by him and take my shoes off.

“You’ll need new socks.” He observes.

“Working on it.” I say as I take them off.

“And new feet! How long have you’ve been walking in those horrid things?”

“…A couple of days.”

“Well stop that! It’s a wonder they aren’t infected!”

“Don’t worry, I’m an herbmonger. I’ll soak them with some good medicine tonight.”

“…Well far be it from me to meddle in your craft, just let me do mine, okay?”

We stop talking as he measures my feet. He also has me walk barefoot on some soft clay and then pours hot wax into the footprints to make a mould.

“All right,” he says when he’s finally done, “you really have two options. You can go with the imperial style albeit with better leather.” He winks. “Advantages are they have excellent price to quality ratio, meaning they’re good and cheap. The imperial boot might actually be their greatest military advantage. They’re also fast to make since I’m really practiced with them. I should be able to get a pair done tomorrow morning for you, and they might even last you until you reach central, but probably not the capital.

“Bad news is they’re good durability, but not the most comfortable, and those feet need comfort. They’re also heavy which might be a problem with what you do and your slight frame.

“The alternative is something I designed. It’s more complex, having a construction to help bend when you want it and rigid when you don’t. Pluss it’s lighter but more durable. It does use the highest quality leather and supplementary materials, which I only have enough of for one pair. So, I’ll be charging an extra premium for it as I don’t know when I’ll be getting more. Also, the binding method is costly and time consuming, but durable.

“They’ll be expensive, but they’ll also be the best boots you’ve ever worn and likely ever will, and I guarantee they’ll get you to capital.”

“How much?” I ask.

“Normally the imperial would cost you a small silver, but now I’ll have to charge you a medium. For the special? … One gold.”

“All right, I’ll go for the special.” I say, pulling out one of the small gold coins Morri gave me.

He whistles. “I really am in the wrong line. Alright, I’ll have it done the morning after tomorrow.”

I inhale sharply. “I was hoping to leave tomorrow. I may be flushed, but prices here are still a bit much.”

“…all right, give me a silver for lighting and I’ll work into the night. Still won’t be ready till afternoon though.”

“It’ll have to do.” I say, handing him the silver.

“One more thing. Throw those out and wear these in the meantime.” He says as I’m about to put my shoes back on. He hands me a pair of light shoes roughly my size. “You can keep these as a spare after the new are done, just don’t ever wear those horrible things again. These aren’t quite your size and they won’t last on a trek, but they’ll at least be better than what you were wearing.”

“How much?”

“Nothing, they’re paid for. Owner died before they came to collect. Rebels. Besides, they’re cheap and I get to make something that I designed again. That’s worth something.”

“…Thanks.” I nod, not fully understanding. “I’ll be back tomorrow then.”

I go back to the main square and quickly find the Red Needle that Morri recommended. The people inside seem more than happy to help me ‘change character’ as they put it when I described my circumstances.

“Oh! You’ll be needing pockets then!” One of them exclaims suddenly as we are selecting the base outfit.

“…Not really.” I say confused as to why she thinks that I would need a piece of noble fashion on my foresting outfit.

“To put all the herbs in, or keep a bit of food to eat on the go.” She explains.

“I just put the herbs in my pack. Anything I need on hand I have in pouches.”

“But pockets are so much nicer than pouches!” She says, gesturing to the many pockets on her dress.

I fail to see how. A pouch is self-contained. You can remove it and place it somewhere (like a cache or drop site) and everything in stays with it. If you want to put the content of a pocket someplace then they become loose. Meaning if you want a good night sleep and remove items for comfort, it’ll take longer to gather them up with pockets and they might get lost. Also, pockets are in a fixed place on your body, but a pouch can be moved anywhere to redistribute your load.

Sensing my disagreement she begins to argue her case.

“Pouches are fiddly and loose. Because they hang from the body, they need to be fully closed if you don’t want stuff falling out, and opened when you want something. Pockets are secure against the body meaning they can stay open and you can just shove your hand in without thinking. Which by the way is really nice on a cold day. Pockets are more secure. Thieves can’t just cut them off you, they have to actually reach inside and that’s easy to notice.

“Besides, if you like pouches so much you can just stick them in the pockets!”

“I suppose.” I say, being moved more by her strange passion than her reasons. Though the thieves argument does have a point. I’m sure they will develop ways for stealing from pockets if they ever become popular enough, but for now using a less common carrying method will be more secure.

Besides, wearing something only nobles do should stop people assuming I don’t have enough coin.

“Excellent! Pockets are one copper each.”

I sigh feeling like I just went through what one merchant who frequently brought the cell supplies called ‘a hard sell’.

Feeling committed I let them talk me into an absurd number of pockets– thinking about Morri’s speech on getting ripped off the entire time. I do draw the line at putting pockets on my butt though. What would be the point? Surely, I would just sit on anything I put there.

Ultimately, they convince me to buy: two brown shirts– one linen an one wool– with a hidden pocket inside, one dark forest green vest with four front pockets and one hidden in the back, and two dark green trousers, one linen and one wool, with pockets on the sides where my hands naturally hang. I also buy three pairs of socks and underwear– two linen, one wool each. It all comes out to a large silver plus a mid copper to rush the alterations (both to size and adding pockets) to be ready before noon tomorrow.

I also spend a small silver on a thicker wool cloak for when it rains and as a night blanket and have them adjust my current linen cloak to stop dragging. This adjustment is quicker and so I’ll take both cloaks with me today after coming back from finishing my shopping.

They also direct me to a number of miscellaneous stores for a list of items.

The first is a fabric store they do business with where I buy two bundles of cloth. One yard of cheap linen for cutting into smaller pieces for bandages, washing, and separating items in my pack. The other is an amount of good wool to use as a tent in bad weather and bedding in good.

From various other stores I get a ball of string, a length of hemp rope, two bars of soap, a pair of sharp short shears, a small knife with sheath, a dozen lead bullets, and a very tiny tin pot with a tin spoon to stir with.

Everything costs more as expected, but the increase isn’t nearly as bad as with food or medicine. Maybe two to three times as expensive as normal. Anything that requires fuel to make has gone up in price, which is just about everything. Even things that one doesn’t associate with fire probably involves boiling at some point.

I consider getting a staff that can help with walking as well as being a weapon, but wooden things are particularly expensive as they double as fuel.

Besides I’m used to going through woods without one. They’re very helpful for keeping things away from your head and carrying heavy loads, but they also leave a bigger trail to follow and takes up your hands from more lethal weapons. So, the cell didn’t use them.

The various miscellaneous goods cost about a hundred raem combined. Everything else I want costs too much, so I decide to go back and get the cloaks then head to the inn.

When I leave the Red Needle with the cloaks I’m accosted by a group of gaunt children.