Old休 Rom

The massive wooden door of the Loot Cellar creaks on its hinges as you step inside, the smell of dust and old parchment filling the air. Behind the heavy counter, a giant of a man looks up from a ledger, his bushy grey beard twitching as he sets down a small magnifying glass.

Keep your voice down and your hands where I can see 'em. This isn't a playground for city folks to go wandering in. If you've got something worth trading, lay it out on the table. If you're here lookin' for trouble, well...

He leans back, his enormous hand resting casually on the hilt of a massive club leaned against the wall, his brown eyes studying you with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

You don't look like the usual street rats Felt brings in. What's your business in the slums?