Clothing and Appearance

All things considered, she actually looked rather worse than usual. Her face betrayed her growing weariness. Her hair was uncombed. The scab from the kid’s bite cut a grotesque mark across her nose and cheek. And the idiotic green elf costume didn’t help matters any. (Especially as it was now a bit scraggly and dirty).

She turned away from the stream. “Amergin,” she asked, “in whatever village place we come to next – could I get some more suitable clothes?”

He hesitated. “You most certainly should find some, m’lady – you are rather…conspicuous. Even the elf-kind do not wear such vibrant colors as yours. Nor such outlandish cuts of garments.”

“Can I find some, then?” she asked again. “Or would it be too costly?”

“No – no,” he said. “Weavers are not wanting in those villages. And they charge very little. But until then, m’lady – I don’t know what you are to do.”

Sarah shrugged. “Keep out of sight, I guess.”

Amergin frowned. “I suppose so…”

“Or pretend I’m some outlandish wandering minstrel. I can’t look too terrible, can I?”

Amergin sighed. “We don’t have much choice, it seems. It might work if the clothes were at least brown. Try soaking them in mud or something of that sort tonight.”

Sarah grimaced, but figured that he had a point. “All right,” she said. “I guess this means we’re camping out tonight? Still too far from a town?”

He nodded. “They said the nearest settlement perhaps three days distant.” He stood up. “Which means we’d best be going.”

Sarah could have used a few more minutes of rest (or a few hours), but she’d determined not to complain. She got up and followed him.

To keep her mind preoccupied (and not thinking about her aching legs), she began asking him questions.

1. “So…where am I, exactly?”
2. “Whatever made you want to be a bard?”
3. “How did I end up becoming an elf?”

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