>>5312336>>5312381>>5312421>>5312459>>5312514>>5312533>>5312694>>5312926>>5312943>>5313051By necessity, you departed from home with naught but whatever you happened to have on hand at the time. If you are to adjust to your new life, then building yourself a new wardrobe is a must. Yes, this is a decision motivated purely by need - it's not as though you <span class="mu-i">want</span> to adorn yourself in all of the gaudy surfacer fabrics on display. The absurdity of such a thought is not to be understated.
You pick out a few articles that catch your eye. The toga, a white garment suitable for casual occasions made of an exotic substance known as 'linen,' which is both comfortable and tough, imported from the far-distant land called Chessenta. A simplistic robe of spun wool colored by an expensive purple dye, ideal for relaxing in should you feel inclined to stay indoors someday. Most prominent is a short dress of red silk, lovingly shipped from southern nation of Calimshan, to be worn in the unlikely event that you end up in a formal setting. It would expose the web of scars that mar your body, though the worst are on your back, and your hair is long enough to conceal those.
As you fret over your presentation - with purely pragmatic motives in mind - the memory of the stench you accumulated over the dismal tenday you spent surviving in the wild Undardark fights its way to the forefront of your mind. In silent acknowledgement, you decide to purchase a perfume to put the nagging thought to rest. Of the fragrances on offer, two fit both your tastes and your economic circumstances.
One is Ocean Mist, a pleasant though implacable smell meant to remind of a geographical phenomenon unique to the surface. The other is Night Spice, a piquant aroma that the merchant assures you will make the person of your choice eager to 'gobble you up.' While understandably leery of inviting surface-dwellers to commit cannibalism, you ultimately dismiss it as some odd vernacular and decide to take both of them.
