It was always my dream to become a hero, but not my destiny. Making ends meet is a problem for many in this day and age, fortunately, like my father and his father before he, I inherited the family business. That being said, I’ve never dressed in the latest vestures, toasted the finest wines, and like everyone else I can always expect a visit from the landlord every first Týrsday.. but I’ve never been in a bad enough pinch to have to sell off any of my sisters just to make rent, unlike my neighbor, Ronald. Having the only storefront within a swallow’s flight of the nearest city and just a stones throw away the fourth most active dungeon in Pilska, I do pretty well for myself as a shopkeeper and professional artisanal miak enthusiast. You would think keeping the shelves stocked would be the greatest challenge for a store so far off the grid, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. During the night, I moonlight as a scavenger and spelunk the depths of the local dungeon scavenging weapons, materials, and other goods off the dead, wannabe heroes that pass through. It’s a dirty job, but great business. The circle of life, I say… I find a sword, clean it up, sharpen it a bit, give it a good polish, and sell it to a young, hard-headed adventurer for a total profit. If I’m lucky, which I usually am, during my rounds in the dungeon, I’ll find the lifeless body of the same unfortunate, adventurer and take his goods and resell it again for full profit… easy money. Like my father always said… “You either live to make a profit or be a hero and end up dead.” 

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