---
"First things first, I need a better outfit. In fact, I need a complete do-over," Eldric thought, grimacing as he looked down at the shabby robe draped over him. The fabric was rough, stained, and the color—a sad, faded brown—didn't help its case.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, staring at his reflection in the small, cracked mirror on the wall. "Come to think of it," he murmured, "I don't even remember my own name. Or anything personal, really. No family, no friends, not even a favorite place." He squinted, trying to conjure up some elusive memory, but all he found was a mental fog. It was blank, like a chalkboard wiped clean—except for bits and pieces of… media. Movies, songs, books he'd liked, random facts—those were all still there. Odd, but oddly enough, it didn't bother him.
"Should I be worried about that?" he pondered for a moment, then shrugged, dismissing the concern with a wave of his hand. "Nah, I'm good."
Still, there was one thing he knew for certain—he needed a proper name. Something that would suit him in this new world, or whatever world this was. He squinted and muttered aloud, "Ruffius." It sounded like something from a bad fantasy novel. He shook his head. "Nope. That's not going to fly."
He paced the small room, hands behind his back, trying on names like they were new coats. "How about… hmm…" He let out a small chuckle, the name finally coming to him in a flash of inspiration. "Eldric Greymane." He rolled it around in his mind a few times, savoring the sound. "Eldric Greymane. Now that's a name."
He smirked, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as he snapped his fingers, as if the act itself sealed the choice. Eldric Greymane. The name had an old-world feel, something noble, a bit mysterious, and entirely fitting for the image he was starting to build in his mind.
"Right then, Eldric Greymane it is," he said to the empty room, feeling a surge of energy. With renewed purpose, he straightened his worn robes and made his way toward the town.
---
As he approached, the town revealed itself to be bustling with activity. Lively market stalls lined the streets, townsfolk moved about with purpose, and the air was filled with the mingling scents of fresh bread, spiced meats, and a hint of something sweet baking in the distance. This was a place alive with its own rhythm and charm, and Eldric felt a small thrill at stepping into it for the first time.
He scanned the crowd, finally spotting a young woman who seemed to be rushing past, a large basket of vegetables balanced on her hip. He hesitated for a second before calling out, "Pardon me, young lady! Would you kindly point me in the direction of a clothing store? I've had the misfortune of running into some rather unsavory hoodlums who left me in this… unfortunate condition."
The young woman paused, her eyes widening slightly as she took in his pitiful state. A flicker of sympathy crossed her face, and she gave a small nod. "Oh, of course, sir. It's just a little ways ahead—actually, I'm headed in that direction myself. Why don't you come along with me?"
Eldric gave a courteous bow, flourishing it with a slight exaggeration. "You are a true blessing, my dear," he replied, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he fell into step beside her.
She smiled warmly, leading him through the lively streets. "I'm happy to help," she said. "You look like you could use some proper clothing."
"Indeed, my dear. And perhaps a change of luck, if the fates are listening," Eldric added with a wry smile. "But first, clothing."
---
They soon reached a small shop nestled between two larger buildings. The sign hanging above the door read "Alfonse Dressery." Eldric arched an eyebrow at the name. Is that even a word? he wondered briefly, before shrugging and following the young woman inside.
The store was a sensory overload of rich perfumes, colorful fabrics, and the soft rustling of clothes being folded by an unseen hand. It smelled like new garments, fresh stitching, and something floral. Thankfully, Eldric had washed up before coming, so he was at least somewhat presentable.
A voice called out from behind a curtain as he stepped through the door. "Greetings, dear customer, how can I—"
The voice cut off abruptly. The figure, an elf with sharp features and a snobbish air, froze mid-sentence upon seeing Eldric's state. His eyes flicked up and down Eldric's tattered robes, lingering on the threadbare fabric with barely concealed disdain.
Eldric was unfazed. "No need for the silent judgment, young man. I need a do-over and new clothes. I don't care about the cost," he said, his tone unwavering.
The elf's eyes narrowed, clearly thinking something along the lines of 'Can this old fool even afford anything?' but he sighed heavily. "Very well. Follow me."
Eldric raised an eyebrow but followed the elf as he led him through the store, asking the usual questions about style, color, and details. Eldric answered with the same directness he'd been using since he woke up in this strange new world.
Finally, they arrived at the mage section—robes, tunics, and cloaks embroidered with symbols Eldric didn't recognize, though they seemed to carry some kind of arcane significance. The elf looked him over one last time and sneered. "Can you make something for me? Simple, yet bold?" Eldric asked, already feeling the first stirrings of annoyance.
The elf rubbed his temples with a sigh. "Sure, why not?" he muttered, more out of resignation than enthusiasm, before guiding Eldric to a measuring room.
---
The elf took Eldric's measurements in silence, his irritation palpable. "It should be ready in two days," he said curtly.
Eldric was already thinking ahead. "Oh, I'm sure you can do it sooner than that. What's the price?" he asked, his voice suddenly sharper.
The elf glanced at him, smirking. "3,000 Zor. Which, I doubt you can afford."
Eldric raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Three thousand Zor? For a simple outfit? Are you factoring in a personal blessing from the gods with that price?"
The elf hesitated, then began his rehearsed sales pitch. "Well, it would include materials of the finest quality, plus a certain level of... personal touch in the design. And of course, the enchantments—"
Eldric waved his hand dismissively, cutting him off. "Save me the song and dance. I'm sure the fabric isn't worth more than a handful of Zor."
The elf scowled but saw the determination in Eldric's eyes. "Fine. For something simple, you're looking at 50 Zor."
Eldric nodded, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Now we're talking."
The elf sighed, realizing his inflated price had just been knocked down. He seemed to reconsider his previous judgment. "Fine. Until the custom clothes are done, I suppose you'd prefer something a bit more... respectable than those rags?" His voice was dripping with disdain as he gestured toward the threadbare robe Eldric wore.
Eldric eyed him coolly. "Sure. Give me a good outfit you think would fit me. If I like your service, I may just add a bonus for you."
The elf's ears perked up at the mention of a bonus, and his expression shifted from irritation to wide-eyed optimism. "Then why didn't you start with that? Let's go! Time's flying, and time equals money!"
With a sudden burst of energy, the elf ushered Eldric toward the clothing section, his previous condescension now replaced by an eager enthusiasm.