Ragged Robes & More

The bell above the door jingled as Kael stepped into Ragged Robes & More, and the first thing that hit him was the overwhelming scent of dust and old fabric. The air was thick with it, as if the shop had been sealed off from the outside world for years. The dim lighting didn't help either. Shadows pooled in the corners of the room, giving the place an almost eerie quality.

Kael's eyes darted around, taking in the cluttered space. Racks upon racks of clothing filled every available inch of the shop. Cloaks, tunics, jackets, pants, and accessories were draped over every surface, some looking far older than Kael himself. It was as though someone had crammed centuries' worth of garments into this tiny shop without any concern for order or presentation.

Behind the counter, an old man sat hunched over a small heap of fabric, muttering something to himself. His long, bony fingers worked methodically at what looked like some kind of stitching, but he didn't seem to notice Kael's entrance at all. The man had the look of someone who had seen everything, weathered by time, with skin stretched tight over his sharp features. His silvery hair, though thin, was combed back neatly, contrasting with his otherwise rough appearance.

After a few moments, the old man finally looked up, his sharp, green eyes narrowing as they locked onto Kael. He didn't say anything at first, just stared at him with a deep scowl etched into his face, making Kael shift uncomfortably.

"Well?" the old man finally rasped, his voice a rough growl, like sandpaper grinding against wood.

"You just gonna stand there gawkin', or you gonna tell me what you're after?"

Kael blinked, caught off guard by the man's abruptness.

"Uh, right," he stammered. "I'm looking for… clothes? I suppose?"

The old man's brow furrowed deeper, if that was even possible, as he leaned forward, squinting at Kael as if trying to determine whether he was serious.

"Of course, you're lookin' for clothes," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"You think I sell weapons or somethin'? What're you after, exactly? You lookin' for somethin' light or somethin' sturdy?"

Kael hesitated, suddenly unsure of how to answer. He glanced around the shop, taking in the variety of garments hanging from the racks, none of which he knew the purpose for. It was all just… clothing to him. He had no idea what would serve him best, especially in a place as unpredictable as this world.

"I don't really know," Kael admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I guess… something sturdy?"

The old man let out a long, drawn-out sigh as if Kael had just made his day ten times harder. He stood slowly, his bones creaking audibly as he rose from his stool and shuffled out from behind the counter. He moved surprisingly fast for someone who looked like he might collapse at any moment.

"Sturdy, he says…" the old man muttered to himself as he approached Kael, circling him like a vulture sizing up a meal. His bony fingers tapped his chin thoughtfully as he examined Kael from head to toe.

"You don't look like much of a fighter."

Kael shifted uncomfortably under the old man's scrutiny. It was true—he didn't exactly cut the figure of someone battle-hardened or even prepared for a fight. His clothes were worn, his body thin from days of travel and exertion. He probably looked more like a beggar than anything else.

"I'm… working on it," Kael muttered, feeling slightly defensive.

The old man snorted.

"Work harder."

With that, he turned on his heel and began weaving his way through the cluttered shop, gesturing for Kael to follow him. As they passed rows of clothing, Kael couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. The shop was much larger than it had seemed from the outside, with aisles stretching deeper into the building than he'd expected. Some of the garments looked well-made, with intricate stitching and expensive materials, while others seemed barely held together by thread.

"I don't have much money," Kael said after a moment, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

"An acquaintance gave me a bit, but… it's not much."

The old man stopped abruptly, turning to give Kael a flat look.

"I figured as much. You don't exactly scream 'wealthy.'"

Kael winced.

"Yeah, I guess not."

The tailor eyed him for a moment longer before letting out another one of his trademark sighs.

"Well, if you're low on coin, you're gonna want the bargain section."

Kael felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Bargain section?"

The old man pointed to the far corner of the shop, where the lighting was even dimmer, and the clothes were stacked haphazardly in piles that looked like they hadn't been touched in years. The fabric was dusty, faded, and some of it looked like it might disintegrate if handled too roughly.

"There," the tailor said bluntly.

"That's what your budget'll get ya."

Kael stared at the corner, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over him. He hadn't expected much, but seeing the worn, dusty piles of clothing was still a bit of a blow. He knew he couldn't afford anything extravagant, but he had hoped for something… functional.

"Well, I guess that'll have to do," Kael muttered, walking over to the bargain section with a sense of resignation.

The old man followed, watching with mild amusement as Kael sifted through the piles of old clothes. Most of the garments were either too big, too small, or in such poor condition that Kael doubted they would last more than a day in the wilderness. But he kept searching, determined to find something—anything—that would work.

As Kael dug deeper into the pile, his fingers brushed against something softer than the rest. He pulled out a simple brown jacket. It wasn't much to look at, but the fabric felt sturdy, and it didn't seem as worn as some of the other items. It had reinforced stitching around the shoulders and elbows, the kind of jacket that could handle a few scrapes without falling apart.

"That one's not bad," the old man grunted.

"Sturdy enough for a beginner like you."

Kael turned the jacket over in his hands, feeling the weight of it. It wasn't fancy, but it looked durable—perfect for someone like him who didn't know where his path would lead next.

"Yeah? You think it'll last?" Kael asked, raising an eyebrow.

The old man shrugged.

"Depends on what you're doin'. You get into too many fights, it'll wear down quick, but for basic travel, it'll hold."

Kael nodded, feeling a bit more confident in his choice. He draped the jacket over his arm and continued searching for other items. The bargain section was far from ideal, but he figured he could piece together something that would at least keep him protected in the days to come.

After rummaging for a while longer, Kael found a pair of trousers that seemed to match the jacket—dark brown, thick fabric, with reinforced knees and several pockets. They weren't anything special, but they would do the job. He threw them over his arm along with the jacket, deciding that they'd serve well enough for now.

As Kael continued his search, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of… satisfaction. It wasn't much, but there was something almost comforting about the simplicity of it all. The trial, the chaos, the abominations—all of that seemed far away in this dusty little shop. For the first time in what felt like forever, Kael felt like he was taking a step forward, however small.

The old man watched silently as Kael continued his search. His gruff demeanor hadn't changed, but there was a faint glint of approval in his eyes as Kael picked out a few more items—a plain long-sleeved shirt and a simple belt. Nothing fancy, nothing that would turn heads, but enough to get by.

Kael was just about to head to the back of the shop to try the clothes on when something caught his eye.

In the farthest corner of the shop, hidden beneath a thick layer of dust and piled under various old garments, something glimmered faintly. Curious, Kael stepped closer and carefully lifted one of the dusty cloaks off the pile, revealing what appeared to be a full set of armor underneath. Leather and chainmail, dark and worn with age, but clearly well-crafted.

As he dusted off more of the garments, Kael noticed a small, engraved wolf's head on the left shoulder guard, its eyes fierce and predatory.

"What's this?" Kael asked, more to himself than the old man.

The tailor, who had been watching silently, let out a surprised grunt.

"Ah… didn't think that'd still be here," he muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"What a pleasant surprise."

Kael glanced back at the armor, his curiosity piqued.

"Well," he muttered under his breath, eyeing the wolf engraving.

"I guess that's some sort of start."