Herald of Shalia

by Tamryn Tamer

  “Looks like we’re here,” Brynn said while gesturing up ahead at the demihumans wandering in the street. Frost wasn’t sure what he expected but he certainly didn’t expect what he was seeing. “We can ask somebody where their shopping district is.”

  Frost ignored Brynn as he glanced down at a tailed man with green lizard scales covering his skin chatting with another lizard man. Elsewhere in the area he saw people he’d normally describe as orcs except they were somewhat smaller and their faces were fairly angular.

  “Hobgoblins,” Brynn said as she noticed Frost staring. “And you shouldn’t stare at people. It’s rude.”

  “I can’t help it,” Frost said as his eyes caught the familiar sight of several elves walking together. A ridiculously handsome elf male was being escorted by four elf women who he imagined were his wives. Five elf children followed behind the adults pretty much confirming his theory. “This is just strange.”

  “Really?” Brynn laughed. “You’re calling this strange? You live in a village with elf women throwing themselves at you.”

  “There are just so many different types of people it’s jarring,” Frost said while noticing a bunch of dwarves at a picnic table drinking. Basically, any creature he could have imagined were represented there in some way. “I honestly didn’t expect an area like this to exist in Blackwater.”

  “Well,” Brynn gestured at several human guards wandering around as if they were looking for a fight. “They’re heavily policed and for the most part their movements are regulated through licensing. So, in a way, this is sort of a separate village. There are other villages throughout Zira as well. I mean, we’re not monsters.”

  “Well,” Frost said. “They were going to kill the elves in the village.”

  “That’s different,” Brynn said. “The followers of Shalia aren’t well liked. I know you love them, but everybody else believes that bad luck follows them. Plagues, famine, war. Raullon thought they were bad luck and less than a week later he’s dead.”

  “I see your point,” Frost chuckled. “But it’s kind of ironic. They’re viewed as bad luck but I’ve never felt luckier. I’m even going to be marrying a princess.”

  “Aww,” Brynn said teasingly. “I make you feel lucky?”

  “Help!” a rat man yelled as several hobgoblins pushed him to the ground and began kicking him. “Help! Somebody!”

  “Learn your place rodent,” a hobgoblin growled while kicking him in the kidneys. “If I see you lurking around my sister again, I’ll cut you up and throw you in the sewers where you belong.”

  “I wasn’t!” the rat man cried as the guards pointed and laughed. Clearly, they weren’t there to protect the people, but just to ensure the people didn’t leave the area. The other demihumans simply walked past while giving the combatants a wide breadth. “Crink! I swear I wasn’t…”

  “You calling me a liar?” Crink said giving him another kick as his friends held him down. “This is your last warning vermin. Next time, I won’t let you off so easy!”

  “That’s rather dark,” Frost said while using scan on the area. Most of the citizens ranged from levels five to twenty but it varied greatly by race. There were also outliers like the level thirty hobgoblin that was beating on the rodent guy. “So, the demihumans don’t really get along with each other?”

  “It really depends on the demihumans,” Brynn answered as they watched the rodent man stand up and limp toward one of the smaller multi-family homes. “There are some demihumans like the dwarves who are respected because of their strength and durability but Rodens are universally viewed as pests. They’re weak, they tire easily, and Roden women breed like…well…vermin.”

  “I see,” Frost nodded as he realized that the hierarchy was build around manual labor. Rodent people in games were never really known for their brute strength and stamina. They were traditionally rogues, archers, and tinkers. The classes they’d do well in were likely ones that required dexterity and finesse but instead they were probably used as sewer cleaners. “I imagine most crafting classes are reserved for humans. Am I right?”

  “The guild only allows humans but the demihumans can learn crafting on their own. Naturally, without the resources of the guild they don’t get very far.” Brynn pointed at a small clothing shop. “Maybe I spoke too soon. Those look like an artisan tailor made them.”

  Frost wanted to visit the topic again later but figured clothing was still their priority. They needed clothing, a place to stay, and something to eat. They only had a few more hours of daylight and he wanted to find an empty bed and a warm meal.

  “Come on!” Brynn jumped off the horse and rushed into the building as Frost tied the horse to a post. He followed her inside the dimly lit shop.

  “Um,” a nervous looking robed woman rushed up to them while avoiding eye contact. “Greetings my lady. And you too sir. May I ask what you are doing here? No, that’s not right. I’m sorry. That sounded rude. I assure you it’s not my intent to sound rude. I’m somewhat confused as to your presence in my store. Although I humbly welcome you if you truly intended to be here.”

  “Calm down,” Brynn said while gesturing at Frost. “That one’s a degenerate that fucks elves so nobody in the main part of the city will sell to us.”

  “Really?” Frost scoffed and wondered if she was going to announce him like that to everyone.

  “I’m sorry?” the woman lifted her head, and Frost almost jumped as he stared into the most terrifying eyes he’d ever seen. There were six jet black eyes organized in triangular clusters of three on either side of her face staring right at him. As she spoke, he noticed her two prominent fangs and several smaller ones. “I apologize but I think I may have misheard you.”

  “You didn’t,” Frost said as he noticed more oddities about the woman including the fact that she was hunching herself over to appear smaller. Her dark cloak was obviously thrown on for their benefit when she realized she had customers. “If you don’t want to sell to us because of it…”

  “No,” the woman bowed politely. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude. Welcome to my shop, my name is Lishri and I’ll be happy to assist you. I apologize for my rudeness.”

  “Nice to meet you Lishri,” Frost said while scanning the pants, shirts, and dresses hanging around the shop. The durability was far higher than anything the elves crafted with equally high mental tolerance. “I’m Frost and this is Brynn. We’re looking for some proper clothing obviously.”

  “Yes,” Lishri said while glancing at Frost, her six eyes were extremely unnerving and bordered on terrifying. “Um, I hate to ask but seeing as you don’t have any clothing…”

  “We have money,” Frost said while opening his clenched fist.

  “Um,” Lishri gulped while staring at the coins. “How nice of clothing are you looking for?”

  “I’ll decide that,” Brynn said smugly. “I’m the one paying after all.”

  “Right,” Lishri turned to Brynn. Frost couldn’t quite put a finger on it but something was off about the woman. Something other than the six eyes. “I apologize. I should assist the lady first.”

  “LIshri,” Frost tilted his head. “Are you uncomfortable?”

  “I’m sorry?” Lishri asked anxiously. “I am perfectly comfortable serving you sir. I apologize profusely for my earlier assumptions.”

  “No,” Frost shook his head. “I mean with what you’re wearing.”

  “Oh,” Lishri trembled and tightened her cloak. “I’m sorry. Did you see one of them? I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “Um,” Brynn elbowed Frost. “She’s an Arachne.”

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Frost shrugged. “Spider woman, right?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Lishri backed up into a dark corner. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable sir.”

  “I’m sorry,” Frost sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just thought that cloak looked uncomfortable for you if you wanted to take it off. I should
have kept my mouth shut.”

  “I don’t understand,” Lishri looked at Brynn. “I’m very sorry for offending you sir. I can make myself unseen while you look around.”

  “Dammit all,” Brynn grumbled. “Miss Lishri, he’s saying he doesn’t care if you’re an Arachne. I told you, he’s a degenerate that lays with elves. Looking at an Arachne isn’t going to bother him. If you’re more comfortable without the cloak, feel free to take it off. Nobody will mind.”

  “Really?” Lishri looked to Frost for approval. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah,” Frost nodded. “This is your shop. You should be comfortable in it.”

  “If you’re really sure,” Lishri reached for the clasp on her cloak. “Sir, I have no issue wearing the cloak if you’d prefer it. Please don’t feel obligated to…”

  “Just remove the damn cloak so we can buy some clothes,” Brynn snapped causing Lishri to quickly unsnap the clasp.

  Frost’s entire body started to itch as Lishri removed the cloak and rose to her proper height. She had unnaturally pale skin and elegant long red hair. As for the rest of her, she looked pretty much how he imagined an Arachne looking except her entire spider body was red instead of black. But as he really looked at her, he realized she must have put a enormous amount of time and effort into her appearance.

  “Are those skirts?” Frost pointed at the custom transparent white skirts she’d made for each of her spider legs. The skirts matched a lacey white tip she wore with red accents in it. “That’s a really beautiful outfit.”

  “Really?” Lishri said while lifting one of her spider legs. Frost resisted the urge to jump as he gradually acclimated himself to the woman. “I thought maybe if I covered my legs, I could make myself less disgusting.”

  “Disgusting?” Frost said almost offended by her use of the term. Admittedly, he understood people’s discomfort. She was a little terrifying but he wouldn’t call her disgusting. Interesting would be more accurate. “Do people call you disgusting?”

  “Frost,” Brynn laughed. “We’re just here for clothes.”

  “I’m sorry,” Frost said as he realized he might be making Lishri uncomfortable. “That was rude of me to ask. I shouldn’t be prying.”

  “No apology is necessary Sir Frost,” Lishri bowed politely again. “Talking to you makes me very happy.”

  “I’m happy to talk to you as well,” Frost said while staring at the red-haired woman. “But Brynn is right. We’re going to need clothes and then we’ll need to look for a place to stay.”

  “You’re staying here?” Lishri asked excitedly. “For how long?”

  “Two days probably,” Frost said as Brynn looked at the dresses. “Then we need to head back to my territory.”

  “Your territory?” Lishri froze. “Are you a noble by chance Sir Frost?”

  “No,” Frost gestured at Brynn. “But she is.”

  “I’m only a princess,” Brynn smirked at Lishri. “Comparably, the cute one there is the Herald of Shalia.”

  “Herald of Shalia?” Lishri pointed at Frost and then gradually moved her finger toward Brynn. “That makes you Princess Brynn Hilde who ordered the execution of Prince Erik…”

  “Does the entire city know about that?” Frost asked the anxious Arachne.

  “Yes,” Lishri whispered. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

  “What have people been saying about me?” Frost chuckled while shaking his head. “Lishri, can you come here for a second?”

  “Yes,” Lishri rushed to him as if being dragged by an unknown force. The poor Arachne woman was probably seeing him as some sort of monster. “I’ll do whatever you ask. Just please don’t.”

  “Pat my head,” Frost said.

  “What?” Lishri looked at his head. “I could never…”

  “You said you’d do whatever I asked,” Frost crossed his arms. “Just pat my head.”

  “Frost,” Brynn chuckled.

  “Okay,” Lishri nervously placed her hand on Frost’s head. He was pretty tall in this world but the Arachne was definitely taller. He might have found her intimidating if he hadn’t already seen sixty foot tall giants. “Now what?”

  “Now,” Frost smiled. “You can do that as much as you want while I’m here.”

  “I don’t understand,” Lishri said as she nervously stroked his hair. “Why?”

  “Are you still scared of me?” Frost asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Lishri answered.

  “Well,” Frost grinned. “If at any point you think you might be scared of me, feel free to pat my head. I figure it makes me less intimidating.”

  “Are you sure?” Lishri asked. “This seems wrong.”

  “He’s sure,” Brynn groaned while looking at a shirt. “Now, I’ve been wearing nothing but men’s clothing for over a year! I want a dress! Something like that one behind the counter!”

  “Right!” Lishri jumped up anxiously. “My deepest apologies your highness.”

  “Brynn,” Brynn corrected Lishri as the Arachne rushed behind the counter to grab the dress Brynn liked. “Just call me Brynn. And handsome there prefers to be called Frost.”

  “Really?” Lishri looked at them both and Frost realized he was already used to the six eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah,” Frost nodded. “So, I’ll let you help Brynn and then afterward you and Brynn can pick something for me. So, let’s get to it.”

  Frost was impressed with Lishri and the more he watched her crawl around the more comfortable he became with her. Brynn had her running around to every corner of the store grabbing different styles of dresses to try on and after a while, it became kind of entertaining. Brynn would describe some item of clothing and Lishri would be crawling up a clothing wrack to find something similar.

  Eventually, Lishri turned to him and quickly found several suitable items of clothing but nothing in his size since he was larger than most humans. Hobgoblins and orcs were around his size but they wouldn’t be caught dead shopping at her store.

  In the end, she needed to actually need to get his sizes to either make or alter clothing. She was practically trembling as she took his sizes and continually looked to Brynn for permission, especially when she got to the inseam. After a couple hours of work, both Brynn and Frost had five outfits and several sets of undergarments.

  “Are you sure it fits well,” Lishri said anxiously as Frost rotated his arms. The outfit he was wearing was surprisingly formal for something he was planning in wearing around town but still comfortable. He’d thought the clothing the elves gave him fit great, but her clothing was amazing. “I was in a bit of a hurry.”

  “It fits fantastic,” Frost said as he scanned the outfit. The durability was about ten times greater than any of the cloth pieces he’d previously owned and it also have both earth and poison resistance. “Did you use your own thread for this?”

  “Frost!” Brynn looked shocked. “That’s not polite!”

  “What?” Frost asked. “I think it’s a reasonable question. The clothing has both earth and poison resistances.”

  “Huh?” Brynn scanned her dresses. “Mine too.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lishri asked. “Is that bad? Only some of the clothing I make is like that. We can find outfits that I don’t use my thread on.”

  “It’s great,” Frost reassured her. “I was just thinking that it’s really high quality. Do you get a lot of business?”

  “No,” Lishri said politely. “But I’m thankful if I make enough to eat.”

  “Right,” Brynn said. “How much do we owe you?”

  “Is fifty rel too much?” Lishri asked as if she were unsure of the price. “If not, whatever you think is fair.”

  “Lishri,” Frost shook his head. “How much were the materials and how long did it take you to craft the items?”

  “What are you doing?” Brynn asked.

  “Math,” Frost said irritably. Lishri quickly estimated the price of the cloth she used and the time she spent. “What
about your thread?”

  “That’s free,” Lishri said. “Since I make it.”

  “Okay,” Frost grumbled. “I’m just going to double the price of cloth to account for it then.

  “But it’s free,” Lishri objected.

  Frost ignored the Arache’s protests as he asked Brynn how much an apprentice tailor made for a week’s work. After everything was worked out on the costs Frost aimed for a fifty percent margin which would be standard for a shop like hers that didn’t get much business.

  “Well,” Frost grimaced as he finished the math in his head. “Brynn, how much are you comfortable paying?”

  “We need money for food and shelter for the next couple of days,” Brynn said irritably. “Maybe some entertainment. We can probably get by with two hundred rel.”

  “Then we should probably pay three hundred for the clothing,” Frost said.

  “That’s far too much!” Lishri said without hestitation. “I’m not an apprentice tailor or member of the guild and my silk is free and you’re even adding lots of rel at the end for some reason!”

  “I’ll do two hundred and fifty,” Brynn glared at Frost. “And Frost, you didn’t tell me you were a trader.”

  “Two hundred and fifty?” Lishri hesitantly accepted the rel. “Do you really believe my clothing is worth so much?”

  “Actually,” Brynn sighed while putting the extra clothing in the enchanted bags Lishri crafted. “I believe Frost values them somewhere around two thousand rel.”

  “T-Two thousand?” Lishri laughed. “You’re very funny your highness.”

  “Two thousand one hundred and fifty,” Frost said while tapping his head. “If we properly priced out your silk, I imagine the real value is somewhere closer to three thousand but I’d need to do more research.”

  “But,” Lishri fixed her six eyes on Frost. “You’re wrong. My clothing isn’t worth much.”

  “I’m not wrong,” Frost said as an idea popped into his head. “You know Lishri, if you ever decide you don’t like it here you can always come to our village.”