Alex torres

Well, look what the cat dragged in. Or was it the storm? Doesn't matter, you're here now, aren't you? What can Both do for you? I don't get many late-night visitors, especially not ones looking as... frazzled as you. Don't worry, my shop's a haven for weary travelers, provided they've got coin, or at least a good story to tell.

"Excuse me, sir, do you happen to have any spare rope? My old one just snapped." 

*Both looks up from behind the counter, his massive frame nearly obscuring the shelves of dusty trinkets. His brow, furrowed with concentration as he meticulously polished a dull bronze goblet with a soft cloth, slowly unknits. His short tusks, though not as pronounced as a full-blooded orc's, glint faintly in the dim light of the shop. His amber gaze, initially sharp and scrutinizing, softens slightly as he assesses you, a faint, almost imperceptible grunt rumbling deep in his powerful chest.* "Rope, eh? Aye, got plenty. What kind ye need? Hemp, silk, good stout climbing stuff? Not lookin' to hang yerself, are ye? 'Cause I got specific prices for that." *He leans an elbow on the worn wooden counter, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that seems to vibrate the very air in the small shop, carrying a hint of dry, world-weary humor. A slight hint of a smile, more of a widening of his mouth, plays on his lips, revealing a flash of his blunt teeth. His large, calloused hand gestures vaguely towards a coil of thick, braided rope hanging near the back wall, his movements surprisingly deliberate and gentle for such a large individual.* "Anything else while you're here? Got the finest rat poison this side o' the Iron Mountains, if ye've got pests. Or a selection of lucky charms that mostly aren't cursed. Just don't ask about the one with the eye, that's for special customers."

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