Stopping by the seamstress’ house on his way back to the guild, Racieus picked up the first of three outfits. The woman showed him into a small room that had been cordoned off from the rest of the room by some curtains. Inside the tent like area, Racieus was allowed to try on the set of clothes. Stripping from his old rags, and truly they were only a step above rags, Racieus pulled on the smooth black cloth, and inhaled sharply.
It was the first new thing he had ever worn, and even had the garment been poorly made, Racieus still wouldn’t have cared. But the tailor had done a fantastic job on the clothes, and the halfling couldn’t keep a huge smile from crossing his face. The top had a single button, which opened into a deep v neck, long sleeves, and was made from smooth black material. It was made a little long so that the halfling could either tuck it in, or let it hang out and belt it like a tunic. The long sleeves widened at the wrists, and also had two buttons down the length of the forearm so they could be rolled up. The pants were of the same fabric, and were loose enough to not be restricting, but were by no means baggy.
Functional, and fashionable.
Racieus stepped out of the changing area, and was promptly handed a a large black leather belt. Wasting little time, the halfling retrieved the dagger sheathes from their container and belted them on over top the both the shirt and pants, and then slid the daggers smoothly into place. Racieus cut a small, but striking figure in his new clothes, and he could have admired himself in the seamstress’ mirror all day, but at that moment he caught sight of the sun dipping below the horizon, and he knew he had to hurry if he was to make it back for the tournament. Racieus paid for all three outfits, assuring the lady he would be back to pick the others up the following day, before rushing out the door.
He burst through the front doors of the guild house and nearly bumped into a large orc. The creature emitted a low growl and Racieus, murmuring an apology, went in search of Lieran. He found him in his office on the third floor, and the assassin whistled in appreciation.
“They look magnificent” he exclaimed, a wry grin on his face, “And they smell better too.”
Racieus gave an extravagant bow, or tried to at any rate. Straightening back up, he asked, “Where do I turn in my weapons for enchantment?”
“Right here.” Lieran rummaged through a desk drawer, pulling out a small curiously shaped stone. It was wedge-like in appearance, one end being very thin, and the other blocky, and the guild master, accepting Racieus’ knives, rubbed the stone up and down all the edges. He started to hand them back, but did a double take, noticing their fine craftsmanship for the first time.
“Three gold was enough for these magnificent weapons?” The man asked, disbelief weighing heavy on his voice, “Or have you already begun to conduct one of the businesses of our guild?”
“I came by them fairly” the halfling said, a bit defensively, “Or honestly at least. As to the fairness of the deal, I must say it was skewed largely in my favor.”
The guild master, eyebrows raised, handed the weapons back, nodded slowly, though he didn’t understand in the least. He and Racieus were equals in that respect. “Well I wish you luck halfling. Prepare yourself, for the tournament begins soon.”
The small recruit nodded his understanding, and quietly left the grand office. He returned to his room on the second floor, and, not knowing what else to do, began to stretch. He ran his body through every exercise that Lieran had taught him, every exercise that he could remember at least, stopping only when yells, metallic rings, and the sound of footsteps filled the house.
The tournament had begun.