A week had passed since Lassim's intense battle with the Monkey King and his subsequent oath with Cirra and Gregor. The days were filled with language lessons, practical usage training, and a growing camaraderie between the three.
Today, Lassim made his way by himself to Maelin's shop to pick up his new martial clothes.
As he entered Gossamer Goods, the familiar scent of exotic fabrics and the soft rustle of spider silk greeted him. The shop was genuinely a well crafted veritable treasure trove of finely crafted garments, each piece exuding an aura of elegance and meticulous craftsmanship.
Maelin, the ex-Widow, was arranging some newly crafted garments on one of the displays as he arrived. Her humanoid upper torso, her beauty extraordinary as her lips were framed by her delicate yet slightly menacing mandibles, turned toward him as he entered.
Lassim greeted her nearly fluently in the spider language, "[Sskkithen, Maelin. Sssira matkk ssskaa zeethka.]"
