As it turns out, Oscar—an exceptionally flamboyant tailor who is quite particular about his appearance, despite his age—was an excellent source of information, even if much of it was drama.
I had mostly walked into the Tailory out of necessity, lacking any actually nice clothes to use if I needed them, but also in a daring act of kamikaze by action, catching Rethi in the radius of the blast with every intention of making him suffer under his girlfriend's enthusiasm.
But despite my general lack of interest for fashion and clothing, Oscar was a man whose pure enthusiasm and shameless compliments could overshadow just about any task, no matter how daunting. Rethi and Alena were quickly outfitted in in matching clothing sets, each as formal and luxurious as the last, but in so many different styles that you'd swear they'd never end.
Some were formal attires clearly created to be as 'high class' as possible, complete with frills and layer upon layer of cloth, the sheer impracticality of the dresses had stopped Alena from even considering the dresses, even if she really wanted to try one on. Other attires were more like flowing robes, almost reminiscent of religious robes, others were airy and baggy, similar to what might be used in extremely hot or humid climates.
But even as I was being measured and fitted with a suit that was shaping up to be the most expensive thing I've ever bought, what was even more invaluable was Oscar's experience and knowledge of Virsdis.
Mayer and Alena, while both having been outside that little road town, had most of their knowledge hamstrung. Mayer just wasn't actually interested in the ever-shifting countries and territories of Virsdis, any information he had was either old or just unreliable. Alena was the same, along with her father. They got themselves to Virsdis to run away, and in doing so they just travelled from small town to small town, never truly taking account of any specific location because they had always lived in a road town equivalent.
But Oscar was different. As the highly perfumed man took quick measurements by eye and by a thin measuring tape, he was all too happy to let golden information spill from his lips like nectar to my mind. First of all, I had asked about churches, and was met with a similar reply to what I'd received from Gehne. However, he did talk more about the cities and territories to the east and north.
Towards the north was the first city within the territory of the Brauhm Empire—and though it'd be considered a 'fringe' city, money runs through that place like nothing else, apparently. To the east is a city that is much more like Crossroads but is more residential and focuses on exporting goods from their mines, and 'live goods' like slaves to anyone willing to buy them. Crossroads, while hardly a moral city, doesn't deal with slaves or slave traders as a rule—mostly because that eastern city, named Vahla, had so many social issues because of it that it'd be downright foolish to copy them.
Though it didn't seem to stop Crossroads from letting people go through their city to go and buy slaves and bring them back through Crossroads on the way back. Too easy to earn money off of, I suppose.
Apparently in the Brauhm Empire religion—specifically their Sun God Brauhm—is all the rage, and much of their civil strife is over religious disputes. Why that didn't leak into Crossroads, I didn't know, but apparently between the string of materials and goods producing cities further to the east and some to the west, the sheer capitalism had attracted the least faithful out into Crossroads. Though it seemed that the Tiliquan tribes to the west were difficult trade partners, making it difficult to move things through their territory despite the power of the cities they were sandwiched between.
There was more information about the next closest territory to the south, which perked my ears, but when I asked how far away it was, Oscar shrugged the padded shoulders of his suit jacket emphatically. He came out with an estimate of about three or four times the travel that we'd done to get to Crossroads in the first place, much of that travel being through a long strip of desert. Oscar did note that he rarely saw travellers come from that direction, most being merchants that would sell 'exotic wares' to unknowing townsfolk of the road towns to escape the oppression there.
That kingdom, Veringohs, had their own trade and supply routes that didn't require them to travel weeks through desert to get to the Brauhm Empire and the trade cities that benefitted from their demand.
I kept asking questions until my brain was exploding with more and more fringe political cases that Oscar begun to have difficulty in answering. He was knowledgeable and got a few commissions from Vahla, the cities further east from there, and that fringe city, Urnwyre. But aside from telling me the names of his clients, which he I could already tell was a no go, he couldn't tell me the exact political reasoning behind why Vahla was going through Crossroads and not straight into the Brauhm Empire, other than maybe the Empire only protected the road between Crossroads and Urnwyre.
With all that, I was given a lot to think about—and while the tailor would have been happy to entertain my questions all day long, the two teenagers had quite enough of my rambling.
Soon enough Alena took the reins from me, outlining her ideas with surprising clarity. The tailor was happy to get to work immediately, so while I walked out of the store with a brand-new suit, almost reminiscent of a modern cut from back on Earth. It was a suit I would have expected out of the 1900s, at least. It wasn't uber formal, not like what Alena apparently had in mind, but it was a warm, dark brown colour with a white dress shirt hiding beneath a lightly lighter brown vest, complete with a fanciful fold in the fabric to add an extra layer of class.
Sure enough, the suit was amazing and, while it had been repurposed from a suit that had already been made, Oscar had managed to work his magic to where I would have easily thought it was made exactly for me. The price, which I paid up front, was still ludicrous—but a suit as nice as this, handmade in an age where suits of this exact type weren't common or mass producible.
In fact, the suit that this had been edited from was an 'experimental' piece that Oscar had made as a—and I quote; "bit of fun in my off time, over a few glasses."
I didn't know much about the evolution of male fashion, but I did know that pre-1800s male fashion was horrendous, and much of the examples in this store was closer to that, than a suit. I made sure to compliment the suit to Oscar extra hard, adding in a word or two about the thing being a 'masterpiece of the future'. I don't know if the modern suit will take the world by storm like it did on Earth, but if anyone deserved to be the person to have invented it, Oscar was he.
The suit didn't have a tie, so I asked Oscar to make one for me when he had the spare time, asking for a simple pattern with a colour fitting with the rest of the attire, and with that I was off towards a shoemaker that Oscar recommended.
Before I knew it, the day was over, and my getup was mostly complete, sans the tie of course. The shoes I had got my hands on were clearly not the modern leather shoe that I was used to, but they were remarkably close—despite most of the upper-class male shoes effectively being high heels.
They were a simple light brown affair with laces and everything. And while the design on them was a little audacious—something I would easily have turned my nose up at back on Earth—there was something fun and mischievous about the design that felt at least a little fitting.
I walked the streets in my new suit, getting more than a few eyes glancing my way; either the eye of the higher-class men and women that roamed the streets, looking for ways to waste their money—or the eye from within the shadowy streets, looking for an opportunity to rob me.
I took a peek within Oscars store, the silver haired man—his gently powdered face filled with a rapturous glee—fussed over the work in progress design with Alena, as Rethi turned his green eyes to me and glared, half a plea for help and half hateful gaze.
I pointed through the widow with a wide grin, covering my own mouth with a comical depiction of laughter, before flicking my fingers at the boy pompously and walking off, leaving the boy to his fate. I had another matter to attend to for the day, even if I had spent far too much of it putting together an outfit, of all things. I'm sure Mayer would loathe to know that I've been using his money on a fancy suit and shoes.
I quickly made my way back to the Skinned Lizard, dropping in to grab my long, black cloak. It was a nice cloak, something that Mayer had made clear was a good financial decision almost regardless of the situation. Thankfully, it looked good enough as it sat over the suit jacket, thoroughly protecting my new, fancy clothing from any environmental damage it might encounter. I struggled for a while, wondering if I should change back into the clothing I had been wearing for weeks, but I was too excited about my new suit to care—I may as well use it to make an impression.
I was gone from the Skinned Lizard as fast as I had entered, not giving Gehne and Tenra the time to approach me about my sudden change in dress between serving tables. I was out and about in the shadowy streets of the south-west corner only a moment later, intentionally choosing the least populated side street and then easily danced up the walls to the roof. At least one person had seen me do so, but I was covered by the cloak so my getup wouldn't be immediately recognisable.
From there I casually made my way along the rooves, spying a shadowy form or two doing the same as night well and truly made itself at home over Crossroads. I took my time, patrolling the rooftops out of interest for those that lived below and within the buildings I strode atop.
Their emotional states almost all included at least some element of depression, desperation being the only thing keeping them going through it. I don't know what it was that so many people did in a city like this, being so commercial and all. I could only assume that they worked in sweatshops and warehouses, and if they didn't, then they were probably forced to steal from those who did. The southern part of Crossroads was grimy in a way that the northern parts weren't, not as much anyways. Oscar had said that most of the richer people lived outside the city, and those that were wealthy either lived in their own stores, above the storefront, or in the first layer or two of apartments behind that. The north-eastern and north-western quadrants of the city were mostly safe, the north-western being where the police were set up, just a row back from the stores.
The whole city was a total mess of garbage city planning. I would go so far as bet that Crossroads never intended to be anything more than a shitty traveller stop before Urnwyre, and by extension the Brauhm Empire, took interest in trading with other cities already nearby.
I finally meandered my way over to where I had met the Gek woman the day before. I didn't bother to drop down into the little green nature spot, as nice as it would have been to relax in there for a time. I walked over to a chimney that protruded from the flat roof I stood upon and sat on the lip of its square brick shape. There wasn't any danger of it being used, seeing as it had been blocked up with bricks only a short way down where it would once have run.
"Are we having a good night there?" I asked to cool air, amusement running thick in my voice. Just nearby I could feel the presence of the Gek woman, hanging from the underside of a balcony a little further down, trying to stake me out. Her emotions shuddered for a moment before she resigned to her fate and climbed to the roof as well.
As she stood from hanging onto the wall, I shrugged my arms out of the heavy cloak, letting it rest on my shoulders letting the cloak fall apart to reveal the suit underneath. I could feel a spike of general anxiety from the woman, but I ignored it for the moment. She likely thought that I was high-class of some description, which was about as wrong as it could be. No matter what I did, she was going to be scared of me to some degree.
"It's a nice suit, isn't it?" I said, flashing the inside of the jacket, the satin-y material on the inside shimmering in the low light that still managed to make it to Virsdis through whatever physics black magic. The woman didn't respond, only reaching into a pocket somewhere within her cloak and cloth wrapped form. She pulled out the single bronze hexagonal coin I had given her, throwing it to the ground between us and letting it eventually fall flat after a moment of it dancing on the stone surface.
"I don't need it." She said finally, after I pointedly ignored the coin.
"And I do?" I asked sarcastically, presenting my getup dramatically with a wave of both hands down my form. I could probably do with a haircut and shave to really seal the deal, but I like the light juxtaposition of nice clothes and unruly hair. She didn't answer me, so I delved into her emotions as I looked deeply at her eyes.
Ah.
"No, I am not trying to buy you. Slavery is abhorrent and I won't have a part in it." I said sternly, trying to keep the offence out of my voice. She stiffened, her mouth opening in a slightly aggressive way I hadn't seen from a Reptilia so far.
"Then what do you want from me…" She trailed off, searching for a name.
"Maximilian. And what I want is pretty simple. I've only begun learning what goes on in the light here, but what goes on in the shadows stays wholly a mystery for me. I've begun learning about the Brauhm Empire and Crossroads' link with Urnwyre, the likely massive amount of trade that goes through Crossroads from Vahla and the cities close to them," I felt a slight twitch of disgust as I brought up the eastern city, "but all of that information is only so helpful. The goings on in the shadows? Now, that could give me a better idea of what is going on in Crossroads, would it not?"
The silence remained, the Gek woman—whose name still illuded me—hadn't budged from her intense distrust of me. I don't know what a Shadow Walker is here, but to her I imagine that still remained the most likely option. A Shadow Walker that showed up in a suit was probably even more dangerous.
Maybe it was time to bring a tool out of the toolbox that I hadn't used in a while.
"Are you a religious woman, Miss…?" I probed for her name, but she ignored it.
"Kaliha, the Quiet Fire. She was the God of my tribe." She said with a soft passion, almost daring me to sneer at her. I had never heard of the God before, obviously, but there was a sudden and immediate resonance between the name and my domain. The Divine energy within me sung with a familiar resonance.
"Ah, what a coincidence." I said, a true smile finding itself on my face. I lurched up from my spot on the defunct chimney and gently bent to pick the discarded coin from the floor, holding it up so that both of us could see it.
"I, Maximilian—as a faithful of the Hearth—call upon the Whispering Ember, Kaliha, to officiate a peace between two who wish to see no blood. Do you answer?" I felt the words flow from my lips as if it were entirely natural, the energy burning in my eyes first, then coursing down my skin and into the small hexagonal coin, the bronze metal glowing with its new endowment of power. A Divine Pact.
"She has answered, now do you?" I asked solemnly, extending my long arm out towards her, the coin resting in front of her as it glowed with warmth. When the Gek woman reached out and took the coin from my fingers—all hesitancy gone to an unbridled awe—the warmth flooded into her padded fingers, coursing over her body and, for just a moment, made her dark eyes glow like a warm campfire.
"I welcome you, friend, to the hearth I can provide." She nodded as the ceremonial words left my lips, as instinctual is it was for her to then bow gracefully in thanks. When she stood, staring me in the eyes, she faltered for a moment—the unexpected ritual ceremony of Kaliha throwing her off. So she stammered out the words she could.
"What now?"