Zefaris remembered Mogralt ammunition being like this, but not quite like this. The ones she had seen being fired were more of a vaguely directed burst, not… Well, a burrowing spiral. This had to be Collier’s doing - Zef remembered that the container had an alchemical formulation scribbled on the inside of the lid, alongside a description: “3-step Re-enrichment - Directed Supercriticality”. However, she had no time to investigate, as the Mercenary gladly and amusedly pointed out: “Hey lady, might want to wear something that can stand the backburst next time! Trust me, I’ve got some experience with fuel rod bullets.”
Her first thought when she looked down was relief that the damage to her clothing wasn’t critical, and she only had slight injuried - minor surface-level burns and scratches.
The second was annoyance at the fact she would likely have to spend thousands on clothes that could withstand the martial realm she was trying to step into - at least, if she wished to wear more than one outfit, which would likely be the case given her recent dressing habits.
The third wasn’t as much a single thought, as it was a flurry of ideas. Between the Queen’s Hoard and whatever the Old Tailor had in stock, it would be no issue getting something durable made. She wagered the old man had the proper tools and skills to re-treat existing Fog-infused material… And so she packed her things up and conceded defeat to the Mercenary by silently walking past him on her way to the sect building.
A change of clothes and inventory of spoils later, Zefaris had decided to take a break from ballistic testing and instead try to solve the outfit issue sooner rather than later, once more waking the Sturmgandr from its silent vigil and riding its thunderous growling form to the tent where Zelsys, too, had replaced her old attire.
“Thank the Dead Ones you’re still around,” she sighed as she entered into the tent, and she felt the eyes of four other patrons upon her back, all of whom were across from the counter browsing the pre-made articles.
The old man looked up at her from behind the counter, his eyes smiling as he sorted through what seemed to be several different samples of fabric; “Business is good, so I have no reason to leave before the final outbound convoy… Besides that ornery Bherad fellow, perhaps. What can I do for you?”
“Can you re-tailor already completed Fog-infused clothing that was made for someone else? I wish to have a full custom outfit made, and I’d rather not waste good material,” she said, the craftsman already nodding before she even finished.
“I can do that, yes, unless it has been specifically treated to prevent reconditioning. Anything else?”
Zef shook her head, though she did have something else in mind - though she wasn’t so sure it was a job for him. After she retrieved one of the queen’s dresses from Fog Storage, the craftsman took a good look, remarking, “Impressive, very homogenous infusion… This is Dungeon loot, is it not? The magic is impeccable and quite robust, but there is no human touch to it, it’s flat and blank. Working with this will be no more difficult than working with my own material. What else do you have, and what would you like me to conjure up from these?”
The better part of two hours later, it came down to a design on the crossroads of a dress and the self-same military shirts Zefaris had already grown used to. In fact, actually going through the hoard alongside the Craftsman somewhat recontextualized Zef’s view of it - it was full of skimpy, suggestive garments, but on the whole, the Queen’s taste wasn’t exclusively overdesigned, bejeweled tasteless garbage… Only three-quarters of it.
Zef’s new dress would be made from the butchered carcasses of three of the Queen’s dresses. She would have the fabric treated to resist fire and to be “kinetically slippery” in a manner not unlike Zel’s Graze Pulse, though in this case the effect would be much less pronounced. In the process, the Craftsman readily explained in masterfully simplified terms the how and why of clothing enchantments - it was a simple matter of the material’s ability to hold the magnitude and complexity of any given enchantment, and being that the Locust Queen’s Hoard was wrought from the Fog-sea in its entirety, it had a respectable capacity despite the fact it had not been intended for heavy enchanting.
“I’ll have to incorporate some of my own… Hrm… I’d say two days. Anything else while you’re here?”
Glancing around, Zef’s eye fell upon a few different pieces on display - each unique in their own right. Tall combat boots, tasteful-looking thigh-high stockings, and a striking officer’s cap - not in adornment, but in the absence of it, so commonly were such caps inundated with badges and insignia. Picking these things out and taking them to the counter only made the craftsman happier, the old man remarking, “Good choice. Some folks just can’t appreciate things that aren’t completely made custom from scratch.”
Two days it was, and with that in mind Zefaris went on her way, but not back to the sect - she made her way to the directions tent in front of the northern gate, still busy even now that nearly half of the caravan had left.
“I’m looking for someone specializing in masks - both respirators and the decorative type,” she said when the attendant’s eyes lazily ambled over to her.
“Any specifics? The more specific you are, the more likely I’ll find an establishment that fits perfectly,” said the attendant, sounding just as lazy as his eyes looked.
Not entirely expecting the man to understand what she was looking for, she answered anyway, “Looking to have a custom respirator made, one compatible with standard Ikesian canister filters and Fogging Canisters. When I say custom, I also mean a custom outer shell.”
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