Nothing made the orc more angry than the lack of pretty shoes in her size. She wanted to hurl the cobbler at times when he would shyly say he had nothing, but she pulled herself back into a calm stance. “Then can you make something?” She said, with more growl than she’d intended. The chubby little elf man gave a tiny nod, gesturing to his back room. The store he owned was housed in a dusty wooden shack on the main highway from the capital. Far enough away to keep it from being busy, but close enough to make a living. Some of the shoes were all laid in little wooden boxes along the shelves, and some were hung from metal hooks. A few looked unfinished, a note always placed inside the left shoe. He led the orc woman behind a blue curtain, to the backroom that stored many fabrics, leathers, wood, stone and a plethora of tools that she had no idea what any of them did.

He dusted off a small stool, before offering her a seat in front of him. “Please.” She sat. It was a very cluttered room, most of the cupboards so full they seemed to want to spill out on their own, papers, old worn shoes, and other miscellaneous items. She felt very large in this room. Not like she didn’t feel large in other rooms, but this one was especially cramped.

The cobbler sat before her, holding out a tiny hand. “Foot.” He merely says. She hesitates, then pulls her foot out of the terribly worn sandal, pulling it up so he can do whatever he needs with it. Nearly twice the size of his face he seemed shocked, but quickly hides it away to take out his measuring string. Black dots cover it against the white twine, indicating some unit of measurement unknown to her.

He wraps the string around her foot, his eyes, once again, going wide. He mutters something, and seems to be counting with his fingers. “That’ll be a lot of material…” She can just barely hear him whisper. He then clears his throat. “This will be very expensive, you have to be sure of what you want.” He speaks up, trying to explain.

“How expensive?” She narrows her eyes. He thinks again for a moment, seemingly nervous. “About… 16 gold pieces…” He meekly squeaks out. The orc woman sits up at full size and he’s seen wincing back. “16?!” It wasn’t much of a shout, but it certainly wasn’t a happy or quiet question.

The cobbler elf gives an uncertain nod. She took in a deep breath, trying to calm her so sensitive fuse. “That…” She sighs. “Seems fair, when can it be done?” The little elf thinks for a few more moments. “About a moon, but I need a deposit before I begin.” The orc gives the elf a look he recognizes as a question. “It’ll only be 3 gold pieces, after that you can pay me after it’s done if you have the money.”

The orc gives a tight nod, and then the styling portion begins.