PM to join Just one step at a time

[Ethan Terran]

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21st of Winter, 515 AV

Under his breath Ethan counted his steps, taking them at a slow and measured pace as he kept one hand on the wall of the corridor he walked. Around him he could hear the busy bustle of the people of Syliras, pressing close together, talking and laughing and carrying with their day as they would any other. It made Ethan smile. It was nearly a year since he had last been to the city, and in that time the Bard had managed to almost forget every path he used to walk. Now it was all about finding his way again, step by step, trying his best to remember the path to different locations.

"Maybe I should have hired an escort," Ethan mused, though a quick hand passing over his slacking coin purse made him shake his head, "Well, perhaps not."

As he walked Ethan hummed softly to himself, a low melody that was nothing more than a random mix of notes that he found entertaining. He drifted up and down the scale, dropping into a lower bar or rising to a hire one at seemingly random intervals. As he did so he listened, eyes closed and blinded from sight of the world to the noises around him. There was the sound of a woman talking to her child, and his humming pitched upward to match her tone. It was rather deep for a woman, and the feeling in it said that she might have been scolding a child... or a husband?

A laugh on his lips Ethan continued on his way, adjusting the cloak around his shoulders and tapping ahead with the stick in his left hand, feeling his way farther down the corridor heading in the direction of what he hoped was an inn.

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[Ethan Terran]

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Well, it certainly wasn't the inn. One hand trailed light fingers along the door frame as Ethan stepped over the threshold inside the shop. There was a rustle of fabric and a mumble of voices, softer than what was heard outside and once the door closed thankfully the confusing cacophony of the streets of Syliras were muffled somewhat so that Ethan could finally focus. Releasing his hold on the door Ethan slowly straightened, leaning his walking stick against his thigh as he tilted his head this way and that, trying to figure out just where he had ended up.

He could smell a heavy collection of dust, the whisper of cloth on cloth sliding over each other, and a sharp scraping sound that reminded him of Scissors his mother used to use to hem his pants when he was younger. Starting forward Ethan used his stick to tap the floor, testing the space around him until he hit the leg of what could have been a table, but was only confirmed after his fingers touched his rough surface. Sliding along that surface then Ethan felt a light brush of cloth, fabric and as he felt with his finger and thumb he noticed stitching along the side. Was this a clothing shop?

The confused bard had stumbled into An Elegant Weave, a shop he had never visited for obvious reasons, and now felt sorely out of place. Turning to go Ethan made his way as quickly as he could to the door, but a soft voice stopped him.

"Can I help you sir?"

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[Ethan Terran]

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Turning back toward the voice Ethan offered a quick smile, raising one hand and shaking his head, "No, that is quite alright miss. I seem to have stumbled into the wrong place. Please forgive the intrusion."

He could hear the sound of her skirts passing over the floor and the soft click of thick soled shoes beneath. A sweet smell of strawberries came from her, not overpowering but just noticeable to Ethan when he was truly concentrating. Beneath the clothing, under flesh and bone and tissue, and through the grace of his mark, Ethan could also hear the deep rhythmic thrumming of her heart. It beat at a faster pace than her own, but steady and even. Though he could not see it he felt certain she was smiling, after all that is what one did for their customers.

"Is that so?" She asked, a strange note tilting higher on the last word, as if she did not quite believe him, "Where were you trying to get to?"

Ethan opened his eyes, and there was a quick intake of breath. Yes, there it was, that moment that happened to just about everyone when they realized the condition of the person they were talking too. This woman, kind as she was, she would understand quickly just how big a mistake this was, "I am trying to find the inn, but my memory of the city has failed me sadly. Thus I ended up in your, I am sure charming, shop. Unfortunately clothing is not really something I give much thought to." He laughed. That was it, now to make a quick exit before things began to feel awkward.

"That is simply ridiculous." Her sharp reply made Ethan blink in surprise, but more surprising was the hand that he suddenly felt on his shoulder and the arm that slipped under his own, "Blind or not your appearance should still be important to you. Come, this way. What was it you said you did again?"

"I, well..." he managed to stammer before feeling himself pulled deeper into the shop, "I am a traveling bard and--"

"There you have it, even more reason to mind your looks. What sort of bard walks around dressed like a beggar?" The hand on his shoulder grew tighter as she suddenly steered him to the left, brushing past a couple of women who, by the sudden silence of their conversation, aid that what they saw was quite a spectacle, "Here, sit here and I will be back in a moment."

Suddenly Ethan was sitting, a bemused expression on his face as he opened his mouth to protest but the woman was suddenly gone. Scratching his head the Bard closed his eyes once more. This was certainly not what he expected.

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[Ethan Terran]

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She came back quicker than thought, just as Ethan was wondering if he could slip away. He heard her swift and purposed footsteps, along with the swish of her dress as she moved, and along with that the closer she came there was a new smell that grew stronger and stronger. It made his nose wrinkle slightly, but it was not long before he recognized what it was.

"Leather?" He asked as the clothing was placed in his lap, "You think I should wear leather? Whatever for?"

If she were surprised by his question she did not show it, "Leather is sturdier than wool or cotton, and for a traveling bard it seems the best choice. It will take the wear and tear of the road, and it is fashionable right now."

Ethan's hands traveled over the material, touching each individual button of the Jerkin and traced a line down the pants, "Yes, but..."

"Come, try these on and lets see what you look like." She said this as she hooked his elbow once more, almost pulling him out of the seat and pushing him back into what felt like a small box, "You are inside the changing room," she said, her voice slightly dampened by the now closed door, "Put them on and come on out."

There really didn't seem to be much choice. Ethan was standing in a small cubical, hands loaded with clothing with a woman standing outside waiting for him to change. With a sigh the Bard set the leathers down on the chair that was provided in the changing room, then slowly bent and began undoing the laces of his boots.

It took a few chimes, during which Ethan examined as much about the clothing as he could with his nimble fingers. The leather was tough but flexible, not really protective but it seemed like it would stand up to the day to day struggles of travel. The dirty cotton trousers Ethan exchanged for the leather ones, pulling on his boots quickly after and lacing them up. The jerkin however he just pulled on over his grey cotton shirt, given the article of clothing was sleeveless Ethan could not think of a reason why someone wouldn't wear something under it, or over it for that matter. After fumbling for a few chimes with the front clasps Ethan was finally able to pull the belt tight and step out into the shop once more.

"Well?" He asked, a slight smile on his face, "How do I look?"

The woman did not answer immediately, but instead pulled on the front of the jerkin to make him stand farther out into the shop. She then made her way around the Bard, pulling at his sleeves here and there and readjusted the belt. Somehow he had managed to cross two of the clasps, but without so much as a word they were quickly fixed. When it was all done she stood in front of Ethan, and he could practically feel the heat of her gaze on him.

"Squat down."

"What?" The question came without thought.

"Squat down so I can see how the fabric flexes." As she said this she put her hands on Ethan's shoulders, gently pusing down on them until he consented and squatted in front of her. After a few ticks and a couple of tugs she had him stand once more, "How does it feel?"

"It's not bad. Tighter than I am used to." Especially in the crouch, though this part he did not voice aloud.

"There is something missing though..." She said slowly, "Wait here."

With that she turned and left Ethan standing, unsure of what to do, in the middle of the sales floor.

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