"You guys said you needed supplies, right?" Berthold said.

He was standing outside a slightly withered shop with a wooden shield across the shopfront. Nev and I shared a skeptical look as he pressed on despite us.

"Gulliver! Help my friends out with whatever they need."

Gulliver was a younger man with cracked grey skin like a statue. I caught myself staring for a moment and decided I would need to update some of the requests I made of Broke. Non-human races were a lot more prevalent on this continent, and as of now, I felt like an awkward mix of ignorant and racist.

"I'm fine," Nev stated before Gulliver could even greet us. "I'll forage for what I need."

"It's a three-week trek to Dulcrois through the Beige Hell. I'd recommend bringing some things."

Nev shrugged in response. I assumed their pride prevented them from adapting. But I took Berthold's warning of the 'Beige Hell' slightly more seriously. I told myself I'd buy extra supplies to supplement my partner's deficits. Depending on how much money I have after my favorite kind of stop.

"Hey Berthold, can we come back later? There's one other stop I'd wanted to make first."

"Sure, but before that, I have one stop along the way, very close by."

'Close by' ended up being a two-hour walk to the other side of town, straight through what I assumed was one of the city's roughest parts. At first, I was worried that he might be trying to set us up to get mugged, but after we arrived at our destination, I realized it was a fate much, much worse.

"A flower, for my delicate flower," Berthold said, presenting Nev with a freshly cut rose.

"What?"

"It's only a fraction of the beauty you possess, sure. But still, you must appreciate how compelling its aspect is. The delicate petals, the powerful colors, the overwhelming fragrance."

He smelled the rose, then held it up to Nev's face for them to do the same.

"Let me get this straight," They started. "You know I control plants. You could even argue that I like them."

"Yes, my angel."

"So your plan was to bring me to a place that literally kills and bisects plants. And then hand me those severed pieces as some kind of offering?"

Berthold looked down as this was clearly not going the way he planned. At the same time, three different forearms holding bouquets behind his back were quickly pushed behind himself out of view.

"Can we go now?" Nev asked.

"Yeah…" Berthold said, defeated.

"Great! Tell me, Bert, what do you know of fine clothing?"

Berthold was a surprisingly better guide than anticipated. He seemed to have a firm grasp of the city's workings, taking us down side streets, avoiding the hot spots, and had an uncanny ability to sense danger. Not in the sense of fires or obstacles, but whenever a group of general vagrants headed down a popular street, he would ensure that we'd wait, allowing them to pass before we came into public view. He did this several times for town guards as well. Not sure if this was for our benefit or his own.

"I don't have that much of a use for clothing," Berthold admitted. "But from what I hear, this is the place most Voyager's go for attire."

It made sense that Bert wouldn't be very interested in clothing. I learned from Broke that his grotesque ability to grow and split limbs was an exotic feat called Supernumerary's kiss. It allowed him to grow and retract limbs and physical features at will, and his clothing benefitted such an ability. Beneath his robe, he wore simply a tunic with the arms completely sheared off, no pants. It seemed just my luck that I would end up partnering with two people without use for my abilities.

Half the store targeted individuals looking to cross the Beige Hell. Unlike Salinel, the majority of the store consisted of robes, head wraps, and unique shirts made of thin strips of interlocked fabric. The only part of this shop deviating from this norm was their section dedicated to Voyagers.

I ran my hand through a jet black material and it up to the light to examine. I noticed my hand almost perfectly through the black fabric, though it completely vanished when I slipped my hand inside.

I lifted a set of silk head wraps, running the fabric through my fingers. It was perfectly chilled, like it had just been removed from the freezer.

Finally, I found a cloth tunic. It appeared to be made of cotton or hemp but felt a significant resistance when trying to pick it up. So, after getting a solid gauge of their stock, I headed to the shopkeep to make my incredibly spendthrift move.

"Hey there, beautiful," I leaned on the counter, shooting the shopkeep a wink. "Do you make all your clothes in-house? Maybe I could buy some of your scraps."

They didn't make their own clothes in-house. Apparently, they are sourcing all of their goods from the Maker's Consortia. The shopkeep stated it so simply that it didn't seem appropriate to question, but I made a mental note to ask Berthold about this group. I didn't leave empty-handed, however.

Thanks to a couple drunkards I had bet against, I had just enough to pick up what the shopkeep referred to as tundra-silk. Assumedly it would do well to keep us cool through the desert, but my plans for this chilled fabric were much grander.

After a quick return to Gulliver's, we had all the supplies needed for a three-week trek through the desert. I crafted robes perfect for the desert climate after subtly breaking down and then reconstructing a set inside the clothing shop. I picked up extra supplies for Nev, just in case, including a set of robes, as I assumed it might be hard to secure a replacement plant-based wardrobe in this arid climate.

"Do we have everything we need?" I asked my team before starting our hike to the city of Dulcrois.

"I'm good," Nev said.

They looked the same as they always did, a small pack across their shoulders but outside of that, completely unprepared. I was impressed by their confidence at some level, but moreso, it reminded me of children I knew growing up that would never dress appropriately for the winter and claimed it wasn't even that cold.

Berthold, on the other hand, went in the complete opposite direction. A ratty robe with slits in the side was the only thing keeping his body from being exposed to the elements. On his back was a comedically large sack filled with supplies to last him closer to three months over three weeks.

"Let's do it!" Bert shouted in between audible struggling to adjust the weight on his back.

I stood unimpressed at my gathered team, but I knew I didn't look much better.