Trade down your outfit

You both enter the tailor’s and are immediately greeted by a handsome bunny-eared man with a dark green mullet and chocolate brown eyes. He looks between the two of you, visible confusion running on his face from a dirty peasant girl and a clean guy in strange, foreign clothes entering together.

“Welcome to my shop, sir,” he says, seeming to have decided not to address your companion at all. “What can I help you with today?”

“I’d like to browse for a bit, if that’s alright,” you say. He nods and returns to whatever task he was doing to pass the time before you came in. You walk around the shop, looking at the various tunics, gowns, trousers, belts, hats, and boots on display. Nothing in here looks like anything a noble would wear, but that kind of thing is likely custom tailored so it would make sense for you not to see it as stock items. As far as you can tell, and according to the loose understanding of the currency rates that you've managed to piece together, the most expensive looking outfit you could piece together in here would cost you five gold coins and two silvers, not accounting for underwear. With that in mind, you get the tailor’s attention again.

“What do you think of these clothes I'm wearing?” you ask. Hopefully this time you’ll get an actual answer.

“They’re certainly interesting at a glance,” says the bunnyman. “Might I take a closer look?”

You nod, and he walks over to examine the fabric of your hoodie. Good luck, buddy, you think. That’s 100% polyester. No way you’re replicating it. As he looks you over, your eyes wander over to your catgirl guide. She’s standing awkwardly by the door, occasionally glancing at a line of colorful gowns along the right-hand wall of the shop. When she catches you staring she turns her head to the side and crosses her arms over her modest chest.

“I’ve never felt anything like this before,” says the tailor. “Would you be willing to sell me this outfit?”

Bingo. The fish is on the hook, now it’s time for you to reel him in. “I wouldn’t mind losing these, I suppose, though there is a slight issue. You see, these are made from a very rare material. I won’t be able to let it go for chump change.”

“Of course! I understand,” says the man. He moves back behind the counter and retrieves a chest from below. After opening it, he begins laying out gold coins on the counter top, one after another, until thirty of them sit stacked together in a pile. “This is the best I can offer you.”

“Thirty-five.”

He purses his lips and reaches in to retrieve three more coins. “Thirty-three.”

“Deal,” you say. You then have the bunnyman dump all thirty-three gold coins into a pouch and hand them over to you before you do another loop of the shop. This time you go around picking out a nice red tunic, a pair of black trousers, some well-made leather boots, and some light undergarments. With your new outfit in hand, you return to the counter and lay it out for purchase. “Do you have changing rooms?”

“There’s the back room, but that’s the best I can do, I’m afraid,” he says. “Will this be all?”

“Not quite,” you say, stealing another glance back towards the catgirl impatiently waiting for you to finish shopping. “I’d like to buy one of those nice gowns for my friend.” Her eyes snap over to you, the look on her face not exactly what you’d describe as grateful. You meet her disbelief with a smile. “The purple one would look nice on her, don’t you think?”

“Now hold on—”

“I think she would look lovely in it, sir,” the tailor says. You both ignore the catgirl’s complaints as the bunnyman walks over to the gown in question, removes it from the stand it’s been displayed on, and adds it to the pile along with the rest of your purchase. With your newly acquired funds you easily pay for the clothes, and then the man takes you into the back room and leaves you there to change. The process is quick and uneventful, and you soon find yourself back on the street in your new outfit. You still have your wallet, keys, and smartphone, but the rest of what you brought from Earth now rests in the hands of some random tailor.

You hand the gown over to your guide. She takes it without much fuss, all of her complaints having already been aired and ignored before you left the store.

“I think I more than held up my end of the deal now,” she says. “I showed you all the important stuff around, and it’s getting late. Can I go now?”

“You’ve really helped me out today,” you say. “But I’m still not that confident getting around, so could you take me back to the market where we met? I have directions on how to get to lodging from there, so I should be fine after that.”

The two of you walk in silence through the streets of the town you think she called Evris. The sun is beginning to set over the horizon, and the breeze is getting a little chilly. You see a few people walking along the streets turning on lamps, though they look strange to you: instead of a light bulb, candle, or some other conventional method, the lamp posts you see contain a fist-sized white crystal. Those who “light” the lamps walk up, place their hand on the crystal, and say something to activate it. Seeing this is exciting, as it’s the first sign of anything resembling magic that you’ve seen so far. Your mind races to theorize the implications of magic in this world, and suddenly the silent treatment you’ve been getting from your guide doesn’t bother you as much. About ten minutes after leaving the tailor’s, you’re back in the market where you began your new life. You hear music and a few voices spilling out of The Full Tankard to your right, and see the apple salesman packing up for the day to your left.

“Here we are,” says the catgirl. She’s held the gown you gave her against her chest this whole time, never having stuffed it into her bag. Maybe she wants to keep it nice? “Now a deal’s a deal. You didn’t see anything.”

“I don’t even know you, miss…” you say, a teasing smile on your face.

“Ha ha, very funny,” she says. “Okay then. I guess… goodbye.” She turns and quickly walks across the market square, turning around the corner of a building and disappearing from view. You do feel a little bad for having taken advantage of her economic situation, but at least the gown makes up for it in a small way. She seemed to like it, as far as you could tell.

With the tour now officially over and the twilight fading fast, you decide to pull out the slip of paper bearing the directions to the Wayside Inn.