The bazaar is bustling with people, and your throat has grown hoarse from shouting over the crowd, encouraging them to come your way. Your stall is stacked to the brim with weapons of all shapes and sizes, whether for slaying livestock or cleanly slicing meat.

The day has been hectic, and you almost miss the shadowy figure eyeing some of the weapons you have displayed. Upon noticing your stare, he turns his head slightly, his dark hood obscuring his eyes. He appears to prefer to remain hidden.