In fact, the things that Verity had taken an interest in seemed to fall into two distinct categories. The first were things that would look good for the family, which were lauded and praised, given trainers and tutors, and made into something proper and perfect. The second were things that wouldn’t look good for the family. Those Verity was simply not allowed to do. If she ever pressed the issue, there would be a talk, and she would eventually back down. Martial arts had been a particular weakness of hers, and while she was at the conservatory, she had snuck out to see bare-knuckle brawls on three occasions until she’d been caught by the conservatory’s housing director. It hadn’t been the violence she’d been so attracted to, nor the men (as the director had opined), but the idea of throwing yourself into something, pitting yourself against danger using nothing but your will and training.
When Verity’s mother had found out, they’d had a talk about it, and the suggestion had come up that perhaps if this were Verity’s new area of interest, she might enjoy being a part of the Greater Dondrian Fencing Club or at least attend a few of their exhibitions. Verity hadn’t thought that sounded all that nice, but she’d gone to one with her mother all the same, partly by way of apology. Fencing was perfectly all right, but not so different from any other sport, where the rules seemed like they got in the way of things. The injuries sustained in fencing were tiny things, barely even worthy of a healer, and they stopped for them every time. With a cleric of Garos and a cleric of Xuphin on hand, it seemed like they should have been able to go much further, but no, it was tightly constrained. While she was certain that it had its own rich history and depth of technique, as most sports did, she couldn’t help but be bored.
Verity kept looking at the entads in the shop, hoping that one of them would spark her interest. There were a few articles of clothing, carefully hung on mannequins, of which the shop seemed to have a few. Most of the clothes seemed a little redundant, like a shirt that would go rigid as steel if you tried to pierce it, or a sweater that would keep you warm in a snowstorm. They did what clothes and armor already did, but a little bit better or easier. There was a pair of pants that would kill any bug that got within ten feet of it, which seemed a bit excessive. Only a third of the entads could resize themselves in any way, and they were carefully marked. Thinking back on what Hannah had said, it seemed likely that resizing was a more common property, but that it was easier for resizing items to find a home and go into active use.
“Those pants are amazing,” said Alfric as he came over. He looked at the tag on them and frowned. “Not resizing though.”
“They’re probably too small for you,” said Verity. “They look like a better fit for someone Mizuki’s size. Or smaller. A child’s pants.”
“It might be possible to alter them,” said Alfric. He looked them over. “Bah. It’s tricky with entads.”
“I know,” said Verity, nodding.
“Are we talkin’ entad alteration?” asked Hannah as she came over. “Because I know a thing or two.”
“We were talking about how we
“Seems rough, from a size perspective,” said Hannah, rubbing her chin. She looked at the tag. “Because you just got done goin’ up against a horde of insects?”
“Partly,” said Alfric. “They’re notoriously tough to deal with. But for alteration… Maybe I could ask Mizuki to wear them, and if we ran into bugs, she could just move forward to handle them.”
“Even for her,” said Hannah. “I’d think you’d have to split the seams on the sides, then hope that the magic held.”
Alfric checked the tag again. “It doesn’t say what counts as wearing them,” he said.
“They need to be on your legs,” said the shopkeeper, whom Verity had heard introduce himself as Rolaj. “I’ve had a few people come take a look at them, but it’ll take either someone quite short, or a cleric of Kesbin, or an actual child. My father has told me not to let them go unless it’s for quite a sum though. We’ve actually used them for labor a few times, with my sister wearing them. Cleaning out infestations, mostly.”
“I suppose that’s a better use than dungeoneering,” said Alfric, nodding. “You could practically make a living on it, going town to town.”
“Dungeoneers go from town to town,” said Rolaj. “It could be work you did on the side, while recovering from the toll of the dungeons.” He looked hopeful. The sale had been completed, and Verity guessed that with what they’d sold, there were some rings in their pockets. “Imagine this, you go into the town, ready to head for the nearest dungeon, but before you do, you put up a notice in the town or put in word at the local taverns that you’re available for pest control. It’s an easy way to make a few hundred rings, I would guess.”
“We’d have to talk to Mizuki about it,” said Hannah.
