"Follow me." Ophelia walks past the guards and weaves through the throng of people with grace. You follow carefully, not wanting the heavy armoured feet of the guard to crush yours. She leads you up a spiraling staircase to a small platform reaching over the center. As soon as you step on it floats upwards. Ophelia grabs your arm to keep you from falling or freaking out.


"Be calm. If you stand still it is surprisingly safe. The Tailor's rooms are on the third floor, so it was unnecessary to take the lift. The others reside near the top though, so unless you would like to go up all those stairs we're taking the lift." Ophelia holds your arm tightly.


You force yourself to take a breath and try not to look down. Ophelia senses this is not the time to talk and so you just stand there, jaw clenched. Finally Ophelia takes a breath and talks.


"Who shall we visit first? As a new member of our lovely "family" you have priority, so don't fret about lines or some such nonsense. After we visit them all we should go back to the Tailor and pick up the beginning of what will, trust me, become a very large wardrobe ."

The Tanner

"I see. Get the worst out of the way first? I must say, the stench is worst I've ever smelled. He's not a... Nice man. Not mean, but wild. Feral, even. I've heard talk that he was born here, but he's one of the oldest I know of, so again, another thing we never may know. As you know, Zaren plays around with... the world. So don't let his appearence frighten you. If anything is terrifying, it's the stink. He's harmless really."

You slow your upward motion and the lift reachs another floor, where it attaches to a opening.  Ophelia walks off. "Don't let the height scare you. It's quite safe as long as you don't linger."

One foot off and it feels stable enough. But as soon as your other leg leaves the platfrom descends. You go falling forward as your body compensates for the motion. Ophelia catches you and steadies you. "Let's go. The walk is long, to keep the smell from the lift."

Ophelia leads you through a maze of halls and small rooms, as the smell gradually builds up and pains throb in your head. Just as you're about to pass out she pulls you into the tannery. There's a look of digust on her face. "Let us meet the Tanner."

You meeting the Tanner

The smell hits your face; fresh rather than the stagnant air outside, but just as bad. Your eyes water and you blink again and again just to see. You nose and mouth curls up in disgust. There are furs everywhere, not just pelts but entire animals. "He prefers to skin them himself." Ophelia simply says. Tools for skinning and shaping litter the ground and little buckets of what you hope is water but is more foul smelling are sprinkled about the room. Larger vats are filled with the same foul odorous liquid, some of them colourless, but more black, brown, gray, or other dull colours. There are piles of furs, rags, and leather everywhere, some drying, being shaped, or otherwise in progress to becoming whatever they will be.


A particularly large and dirty pile moves and -- oh dear, that's not a pile. It's a wereanimal, foul and feral, loudly poking around in dog corpse, picking out internal organs and placing them aside, sorting them. He pulls out bones and bits, and is covered in blood. Every so often he licks clawed hands with a slurping sound. He starts to peel off the skin with tools and surprising care when he lifts his head up and sniffs at the head. Turning around, he spots you and his mouth turns into a disgusting smile. "Ophelia? Why hellos! Goodness, goodness, I ams filthy." Emphasizing and adding an S to some words he speaks to you. He grabs a rag and attempts to clean his hands, then wipes drool and blood from his face with them. He's covered in spotted, dirty, clumped fur, especially along his legs and shoulders, with a longer patch on top of his leading down his back on his spine. The hair is shorter on his face and snout, except for a few long whiskers that poke out of his lips and along his chin. The shaggy fur recedes along his hands, leaving nearly thin fingers for precision in his trade. He wears only a pair of shorts and bones on a string on his thick and long neck. His ears are pierced, the left is tattered and they flap about independent of his head. His eyes are large and green and watch Ophelia with a sense of sincerity. He seems more like a dog than anything else.


 Then, as if suddenly seeing you, "I knows you! The Tailors said you were coming. Yesh, yesh. I have here somewhere... I cuts and cures it long time ago, ready for yous. Just waits, waits." He walks around in circles on his large paws and sniffs at the air. "Yesh, yesh, I see its!" He stretches up and pulls something off a shelf. "They gives me nice shiny buckles for belts. I use the yellow ones this time. People like the yellow ones." He sounds like a child, a filthy terrifying child. "You reminds me. You reminds me of hims. You gots the smell. He goods man, you know. Others they think he crazy, but he nice, he nice to mes. Used to be hads to thinks. All the times. Hard. Now I just do these things and I gets all I wants. He nice man. Waits, first I gots to cleans." He dips the belt in some sort of oily liquid and then hands it to you. "He says to use the oils because somes don't like the smell. But yous get used to it. I thinks it smells good now. Also these. The Tailors said yous might like." He hands you a pair of leather arm bands.

Back to the lift

You take the black belt and bands out of his hands and try to hold as little of them as possible, with a forced smile. The Tanner smiles back at you, oblivious of your disgust.


Ophelia takes your arm. "We have to go now."


The Tanner smiles at you. "Come backs to visit. And if yous wants armours, I cans make it. But laters." His tail wags and he waves at Ophelia.


Ophelia pulls you out of the room and walks off quickly, then runs after reaching the corner.


"I'm sorry. I just can't stand it. He's just so pitiful. I want to hate him, I really do, but I also feel an overwhelming sense of sorrow for him." Her face is white and her hold is gripping your arm so hard it hurts. Her face says not to talk about it anymore, but you have a feeling there's something that she's not telling you.


The smell diminishes as you get farther from the tannery. Once you reach the lift again you put on the belt and bracers, if just to buy some time before you have to step back on it. To your surprise the solution that the Tanner used actually seems to have worked. In fact, they have a slight leather smell, but otherwise are devoid of any discernible smell.


You're about to step back on the lift. If you want to ask Ophelia about the Tanner, now is the time.

You ask Ophelia about the Tanner

For a second, you're not sure she heard your question. She just holds your arm and pulls you onto the lift. Just when you're about to ask again she answers in a quiet voice, holding her necklace in a tight fist.


"The Tanner is an animal. A nice, good-natured, even gentle thing, despite his appearance and the whispers of some, but an animal nonetheless. He isn't a man -- or maybe isn't one anymore. He can't make the decision to lie or even mislead. If you ask him a question he will answer to the best of his ability. He said you were like Zaren." She trails off.


You want to know why this scares her so much. Maybe you smell like Zaren or something. Ophelia seems to be afraid of him, but why would this bother her so much? You're about to ask when her nails dig into your arm deep enough to cause marks, but not blood.


"I don't want to talk about it. At least not now. Please." And that's all she'll say for now. A forced smile covers her anxious face. "Where to now?" She says, deftly changing the topic. "We've still got things to do yet." She lets go of your arm and lightly touches the mark. "I... Sorry."


The discussion seems to be over. You doubt she'll even respond if you ask again, so you respect the silence, though you are still confused.


The lift starts to move. "So, what's our next destination?"