Solo [The Saville] A Cold, Cold Day

Dale gets some new clothes for his second Winter working.

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

[The Saville] A Cold, Cold Day

Postby Dale Ivory on January 27th, 2014, 3:35 am

Winter 2nd

Dale shivered, wrapping his arms around his torso as he slowly exited the area known as East Street, heading towards the more visitor-friendly West Street. It was a cold day, dense clouds overhead covering the sun from view, and the breeze off the water didn't make the chill any better. He'd worn all the clothes he had, even the tight leather vest that was most often reserved for introductions to particularly wealthy customers adorned his wardrobe today, but it was far from enough. He needed something warm, something to help him make it through the long winter running the streets of the seaside city.

This was his purpose today, and what brought him out of his common hiding hole on East Street. He'd worked the day before, powering through the chill to the best of his ability, and had awoken this morning with a stuffy nose and a tendency to sneeze every once in a while. He had to get over the cold if he was going to continue to work and make any money, as nobody wanted to trust their packages to a young man covered in snot and sneezing every other word. Or, at least, that's what Dale assumed.

As he approached the entrance to West Street, he watched the people passing by, listened to the soft padding of his own footfalls and observed people's tendencies. This was one of the more affluent parts of town, and it showed in the moods of the people. Many were out, wearing long fur coats or fur-lined cloaks pulled against their bodies to ward off the nip in the air. He noted with amusement that one vendor had knitted a series of multi-colored beards from yarn, meant to keep ones face warm. I don't think I'd look very good with a beard, he thought to himself. Especially not a red one.

Finding a pebble to gently kick along the road, Dale continued on until finding the noteworthy pillars of the Saville, one of the most noteworthy tailors in Zeltiva. He'd never been inside, only watched from the window, but he'd come to convince himself that, while it was going to be expensive, he needed to make sure that the jacket he was getting would be warm and functional, as well as able to stand up to the rigors of climbing buildings and jumping rooftops. For that, he could think of no better place than the Saville, renown for their craftsmanship in all things fabricated (including political gossip).

Pushing his way through the crowds, Dale made it to the door, opening it quickly as to get out of the chill. The burst of warm air that hit his face was more than a relief, and he smiled as he heard the bell attached to the door signal his arrival. A young man in fine clothing glanced over him for no more than a moment, regarding him with a mild amount of disgust before returning to a rather animated conversation with another customer. Dales eyes fell instead on an elderly gentleman at a spinning wheel, who regarded him with interest and a small smile.

"What can I do for you, my boy?" he asked, nodding and urging Dale to approach. "Can't say I've seen you in here before. Would you mind telling me your name?"

"Dale, sir," he said meekly, taking off his fingerless gloves and stowing them in his belt pouch. "Dale Ivory."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Dale. Come, have a seat so we can chat."

Dale gulped, glancing about the place nervously before he noticed the large plush chair beside the elder, and quickly made his way over to it to take a seat. "What's your name, may I ask, sir?"

The man chuckled in response, giving his hands a break from yarnspinning a moment to wave dismissively. "Look at you, acting like a proper gentleman. And here I thought all you youth had fruitrot in your heads instead of brains. If you could get more of those East Street goons to act as well as you do maybe it wouldn't be such a ramshackle part of town."

Dale was taken aback, confused that the man had dodged a simple question so deftly while complimenting him and insulting his home all at the same time. "Err...how did you know I was from East Street?"

The man let out another short laugh. "You have it written all over you, lad. No Westerner would be caught dead wearing bag-boots like those, tied up in leather strips. No matter, you've come to the right place to get fixed up, though I wouldn't suggest heading back in the dark if you want to keep your coinpurse. After we're done with you here, people are going to see you as a bit more fancy than you really are, I reckon."

Dale could tell this was going to be a long day.
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Dale Ivory
Zeltiva's Swiftest Messenger
 
Posts: 16
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Joined roleplay: January 22nd, 2014, 6:08 am
Race: Human
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