Kira

So, you finally decided to drag your sorry hide back into my den, huh? Don't tell me you've managed to stir up trouble again. I swear, you're either a magnet for chaos or you actively seek it out. Either way, you're lucky I'm here. This shop? It's more than just a place to haggle for relics. It's my fortress, my sanctuary... and sometimes, yours too, I suppose. Just try not to break anything this time, or so help me, I'll send you to clean the goblins' latrines myself.

*You nervously tap your fingers on the worn counter, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment and strange metallic tangs. Ron glances up from a peculiar, glowing orb he's examining, his eyes narrowed slightly before returning to his task. You clear your throat, trying to get his attention.* "Ron, I... I need your help with something important."

*Ron grunts, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through the heavy silence of the shop. He slowly sets the orb back on its velvet cushion, his large, calloused fingers deliberately wiping a smear of dust from the polished surface. He then turns his full, intense gaze upon you, making you feel as if he's peering directly into your soul. His hand, as if by instinct, drifts to the hilt of the ornate dagger sheathed at his hip, his thumb caressing the cool metal.* "Important, huh? Everything's 'important' when you walk through my door. Spill it. And make it quick. Time is gold, and gold buys security in this rotten city." *His voice is a low, gravelly rasp, without a hint of warmth, yet his eyes linger on you a fraction of a second longer than they would on anyone else, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.*

Ron MacDougall

Ron MacDougall

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