After working out the details for his mace with Toris, Edwin picked out a round, wooden shield and a long dagger to complete his armaments. He threw the dagger into his pack but asked to pick up the shield once the mace was ready, not wanting to have to carry it all over town.

“Done?” Olin asked, the urchin appearing next to Edwin the moment he exited the shop.

“Done here, at least. I’m thinking I should have a gambeson. Do you know where I can get one?”

“Sure.” Olin said eagerly, leading the way down the street. “Just over there. Sells all kinds o’ armor without metal.”

The shop Olin took him to was very close by, and as the urchin had hinted at, it was an armorer that sold all kinds of leather and cloth protection. Edwin had to order his gambeson to be specially made for his size, which made it slightly more expensive than he would have liked. This also meant that Olin ended up without a bonus, which vexed the boy to no end. The armorer also had a few other items, and Edwin purchased a leather backpack that was more spacious, comfortable and sturdy than his old canvas pack, and a second waterskin.

Leaving the armorer, Edwin contemplated what else he needed. He had clothes, weapons, basic armor and a backpack. He would stock up on rations right before he left for an assignment, so he didn’t have to worry about that. Looking down his body he realized something.

“Alright, Olin, this is your last chance for a bonus today, so make it a good one. Ready?”

“Ready! Whaddaya want?” The boy had been somewhat upset by the lack of opportunities for additional coins, and the promise of further pay renewed his spirit.

“I need boots. Good, sturdy, comfortable boots that don’t look like I paid through the nose for them.”

The urchin narrowed his eyes and scratched his chin in contemplation. Edwin wondered where he had copied this gesture from, because it looked absolutely ridiculous on a scrawny, diminutive runt who was still years away from his first shave. It took considerable effort not to laugh.

“Got it!” Olin pronounced triumphantly, scurrying towards the nearest alleyway.

“Ya looking for cheap but strong, ye?” He added once they were off the street. “Let me warn ya: Good boots don’t come cheap. But I know where ya only pay for strong, not nice.”

“That sounds like my kind of place.” Edwin replied with a smile.

The cobbler had his shop in one of the cheaper parts of the western quarter, near the tanners by the north wall. It was small and looked shabby from the outside, even more so than Mistress Tullia’s had. The shop buildings in the western quarter were mostly identical, only following a handful of different designs. Most of them shared the arrangement of a showroom near the street, and one or several working areas in the back. Edwin entered, and to his surprise, Olin followed him inside.

The shop was dimly lit and stuffed full of all kinds of footwear. Edwin picked up a boot on a shelf next to him. It was completely missing any kind of decoration, and usually he would have dismissed it as cheaply made and of bad quality. Assuming that Olin knew what he did, he took a closer look. The leather was thick, but flexible, the stitches were even and clean and the lines were precise. Edwin knew little about footwear, but aside from the simplistic appearance, he found no flaw with the item in his hands.

An old man entered the store through a door in the back. His skin looked to be made from the same material as the boot Edwin was holding, except heavily wrinkled. He would have been almost as tall as Edwin if he didn’t walk hunched over.

“Welcome. What can I help you with?” He asked, his voice raspy.

“Greeting, Master. I need a pair of boots.”

The old man spotted Olin, who stood next to Edwin with a satisfied smirk, and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, smart of you to come to a cobbler then. Let’s see your feet.” He pulled a stool from behind a shelf, placing it in front of Edwin. Gesturing, he prompted the large man to take off a shoe and place his foot on it. He studied it for a while, scratching his chin in a familiar fashion.

“Well I’ll be damned. I’ve seen a lot of feet in my life, but never ones like yours.”

Edwin looked down at his foot in surprise. It seemed absolutely normal. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that anything is wrong. It’s just…strange. I couldn’t put my finger on a single thing that’s unusual, but as a whole, it seems…” He shrugged, not finding a better word. “Strange I guess.”

“Is that a problem?” Edwin asked, worried.

“Oh no, not really. Just means that nothing I have will fit you. I can prepare a few drawings and make you something easily enough, if you want to come back. What exactly were you thinking of?”

“I’m an adventurer.” Edwin answered. “I expect to be walking to all kinds of places, and I need boots that won’t make me want to cut off my feet after a few days.”

The elderly man nodded in thought. “Sure, I can do that. Why don’t you point out a style that you like, and you should be able to pick them up in a week or so.”

Edwin chose a pair of boots that would go halfway to his knees, thinking he might need to trek through wet forests and swamps at some point. While Edwin was pulling out his purse to pay half of the price up front, the cobbler turned to Olin.

“And what brought you here? You need something new as well?”

“No Master Foss, I’m his guide!” The urchin answered with a proud expression. “These are great!” He lifted one of his feet, patting it.

“So you brought me a customer, did you? That’s very nice of you, though I hope you didn’t promise him anything I can’t deliver.”

“No, Master, I wouldn’t! He wanted cheap and strong, so I brought him here!”

Edwin put down the coins on the counter, handing a copper to Olin. “He did, and I’m very satisfied with his work so far. I’m a layman, but even I can tell that your craftsmanship is outstanding.”

Master Foss laughed, a sound like gravel tumbling down a cliff.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere young man. I’ve been making shoes for decades, and I know I’m good at it. My clients are porters, blacksmiths, foresters and masons. They don’t need frilly slippers, they need their feet safe because they need them to feed their families.” He leaned slightly over the counter, looking disapprovingly at Edwin’s shoes. “I don’t know what you paid for those, but I can tell that you were ripped off. That pair wouldn’t hold more than a week with what you plan to do, days if you’re unlucky.”

Edwin chuckled, turning to leave. Like most of the clothes and shoes Walter had set aside for future lives, the shoes Edwin was wearing had been bought in bulk. Not knowing what his future bodies would look like, Walter had simply acquired a wide variety of different styles and sizes, and Edwin was altogether unsurprised that some of the merchants had used this opportunity to offload some of their lower quality stock. It’s why he was shopping for new attire on his first day in the city.

Outside, Edwin turned to Olin. “So, you know Master Foss?”

“Oh ye!” The urchin replied earnestly. “Made me these.” He pulled one of his feet up, hopping on one leg to present it to the larger man. Edwin leaned down, studying it with surprise. What he had thought to be simple foot wrappings were in fact a hodgepodge of leather pieces, sewn together with the same steady and clean stitches he had seen on the shoes in the shop. Only the top looked like patchwork though, the sole was a single, large piece of leather.

“Saw me on the street last winter, said I need shoes. Made these from scraps!” The boy hopped around a little, demonstrating their quality. “They’re great! Comfy too!”

“I see.” Edwin said with a smile. Maybe the curmudgeonly cobbler hadn’t only used scraps, but there was no way he would tell the urchin that.

“What else do ya need?” Olin asked, ready to go.

“Actually, I’m done.” Edwin answered. Remembering that he owed Olin half his fee, he dug out his purse again. The boy took his copper looking crestfallen. “Already? Ya sure?”

Edwin studied him for a few seconds, then made a decision. “You know what, maybe you can help me a little further.” He looked around. The street was fairly empty, but he led the boy into the nearest alleyway, nevertheless.

“Listen up: You seem to know your way around the city, and I’m sure you hear a lot of things from people passing by. I’ve been…away for a while, so I’m a little out of touch with the latest developments. Now I could just ask people, but that would be somewhat embarrassing, you know?”

Olin was listening with rapt attention, and Edwin smiled at him conspiratorially. “I would like you to gather information for me. Anything is valuable, be it about the army and the draft, politics and the other duchies, Pioneer ruins, the Volarki, gossip about trade routes, anything. If you find out anything interesting, I pay you. What do you think?”

“Like a spy? ‘Course! But how do I know what ya find interestin’?”

“Well I wouldn’t want you to spy on anybody, just listen. More of an informant. And I wouldn’t worry about that, I expect to find most things interesting at the start. Why don’t you just tell me what you know about the current political situation, and I’ll point out the kind of information I want you to pay attention to?”

I had intended to sit in a bar for the rest of the evening, hoping to get lucky and hear something useful. This might be an easier and cheaper way to find out what I need.