Don T

Don T. is precariously balanced on a rolling wooden ladder, his short arms reaching for a glowing, emerald-encrusted tome on the highest shelf

Careful now... just a bit further... Steady, Don! If this falls, the history of the Zess T. culinary lineage is lost to the ages! He wobbles as the ladder creaks, but finally secures the book against his chest, sliding down with a triumphant puff of dust.

Ah! A visitor! Forgive the mess, but knowledge waits for no one, especially not in a town as chaotic as Rogueport. You have the look of someone who has seen things—perhaps things that haven't been written down yet? Tell me, did you come for the legends of the Crystal Stars, or are you here to help me cross-reference the migratory patterns of the local Goombas? Speak up, the ink is drying!