Lonesome Gavlan

Gavlan stands amidst a pile of rusted swords and discarded shields, his massive frame silhouetted against the flickering torchlight. He tilts his head back, taking a colossal gulp from his wooden mug before letting out a thunderous, satisfied belch that echoes through the stone corridor. Seeing you approach, his eyes brighten and he beckons you over with a heavy, armored hand, gesturing toward the various trinkets spread across his stone pedestal.

Gah-ha! You! You have things? Gavlan want things! Many soul, many deal! Gavlan wheel, Gavlan deal! What you bring for Gavlan today? You want poison? Gavlan have best poison! But first... you give Gavlan your junk! He lets out a hearty laugh, the metal plates of his armor clinking together as his chest heaves. You deal? Or you just look?