Ouslanders Garb is a boutique shop in Solhaven. It is located in a well-maintained shop on Nerite Lane, just east of The Magi's Stave. Red and Turask also sell a small selection of shields and weapons.
Welcome to Ouslanders Garb! The merchant Red McKrieg offers his catalog to browse. Red exclaims, "Greetings stranger, have a look around!" Catalog ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 1. a black tam 9. a silver dirk-shaped kilt-pin 2. a crimson tam 10. a silver targe-shaped kilt-pin 3. a sky blue tam 11. a thrak hide sporran 4. a white linen robe 12. a black leather sporran 5. a stitched leather doublet 13. a wooden targe 6. a studded leather doublet 14. a bossed targe 7. a forest green kilt 15. a mithril-bossed targe 8. a plaid great kilt 16. a ballock dagger
Welcome to Ouslanders Garb! The clothier Turask Maldib offers his catalog to browse. Turask exclaims, "Greetings stranger, have a look around!" Catalog ---------------------------------------------------------------------- 1. a white turban 7. some bloused red silk pantaloons 2. a white turbaned helm 8. a white silk burnoose 3. a black turbaned helm 9. a black silk burnoose 4. a red turbaned helm 10. a red silk burnoose 5. some bloused white silk pantaloons 11. a white linen haik 6. some bloused black silk pantaloons 12. a mithril kaskara
Tall even by Giantkin standards, Red McKrieg wears a head of hair and a full beard that make the reason for his nickname obvious. Although not as powerfully built as some of his race, his size and trim physique make snide comments about his linen shirt or great kilt seem unwise.
Red steps over and picks up a kilt that was left in a heap by an earlier customer. With a surprising efficiency of motion, he refolds the kilt and places it back on the stack.
Wearing a flowing mane of flame red hair, and looks that mark her undeniably as the proprietor's daughter, an attractive young woman with bright green eyes and an impish smile emerges from a doorway at the rear of the shop. Pausing just long enough to set down an armful of new sporrans and to hand her father a steaming mug of tea, she kisses him on the cheek and vanishes back through the door. Glaring about the shop, Red's expression suggests that any comment at this point is probably not worth the risk.
"Ha' ye seen that highroad?" asks Red. "That's whot Giantkin c'n do wi' the right leader. It's a shame ol' Telimnar's reign was ended by that curse."
"C'n ye believe it? A woman come in here the other day, an' she thought the great kilts was cloth waitin' ta be sewed yet!" remarks Red with a mixture of derision and disbelief.
Wringing out a rag until it's barely damp, Red makes a circuit of the shop, lifting items and wiping the shelves clean of any dust that may have settled since his last round.
Red retrieves a black tam that wound up on the floor and sets it back on the shelf.
"Some folks is surprised ta find one o' our race mindin' shop," comments Red, "but ye know, the Issimir Ogre Clan's bin traders forever," as he taps his clan badge.
"Ye know some from the Clans has took ta life in the Sea o' Fire," says Red. "That's why we carry garb fer dune walkers too," he adds as he nods towards the shop's side room.
Dark complected, yet clearly of elven extraction, Turask Maldib stands straight and tall, a benign smile on his face. Wearing a white turban, an intricately embroidered green vest over a tan doublet and bloused red silk pantaloons tucked into low-cut orange boots, Turask appears to know quality, but nothing of fashion.
After taking a couple steps, Turask stops with a frown on his face. Leaning against the counter, he removes his left boot and empties a handful of sand from it, muttering, "You would think by now..."
Turask nods and smiles confidently as customers look over the goods he has for sale.
Turask digs a grapeleaf-wrapped bundle out of his belt pouch. Unrolling the leaves, he extracts a large candied sandflea, then rerolls the bundle and returns it to his pouch. Turning his attention to a ledger, he absently plucks the wing casings, legs and mandibles off the sandflea and slowly bites through the insect's abdomen. As he continues reading the ledger, he pops the head and thorax into his mouth and crunches away contentedly.
"If you would like very good food such as those who dwell amongst the sands of the Sea of Fire eat, then seek out the Pasha's Pavilion which is south of the canal," advises Turask with a wink.
Turask nods and says, "All of the waters that are so close, all of the green of living plants that surround you... You do not appreciate such abundance as one who has lived with the sands and known an oasis as salvation from a certain death."
Behind the Scenes
While "Mac" and "Mc" are Scots and Irish respectively for "son of", "Krieg" is German and means "war." Red's surname proclaims him to be "the son of war."