The Gilded Cog & Sundries
Est. 2025 • Half-elf Rogue
The Gilded Cog & Sundries
The storefront is a tidy watchmaker's shop above a narrow alley; the proprietor sells clocks, keys and useful odds and ends. The Clock's presence is implied rat...
Shopkeeper
Tamsin Rook, a Half-elf Rogue (Lvl 7)
Keeper's Species
Half-elf
Shop Inventory
(19)A common red vial of restorative liquid favored by sailors and pickpockets alike.
A richer red potion; more expensive but restores much more vitality.
A layered-brown vial that rumbles faintly; useful for scaling walls and masts.
A small glass ampoule of bitter liquid, sealed with a leaded cork.
A dark canvas satchel with a brass cog sewn on the flap; the inside smells faintly of seawater and old paper.
A gleaming rope with a single silver thread running its length.
A slim leather roll with a discreet brass buckle; the tools are well-oiled and hidden beneath a false lining.
A tightly rolled wax-sealed scroll, stamped with a watch face emblem.
Thick hemp rope coiled and bound with a waxed strip.
A brass-caged lantern with a smoked glass hood; common in shipyards and narrow alleys.
Vacuum-sealed chunks of salted meat and dense biscuits.
A plain key that feels oddly warm to the touch; sold heavily discounted to known associates.
A brass clapper worn on a cord; faintly engraved with a pattern of five dots.
A little wax-sealed tube labeled in a cipher only the Clock's apprentices learn.
A flat brass coin with a tiny moving cog inset; purchased only after a discreet conversation. Favored by new Clock recruits.
A clever pocket mirror with articulated brass fingers and a velvet case.
A thin, balanced blade favored by infiltrators; small clock-gear motif etched on the pommel.
A charcoal cloak with a faded brass clasp; a subtle ward hums along the hem.
Soft leather boots with silencing pads stitched into the soles.
Tamsin Rook
Shop Atmosphere
“The storefront is a tidy watchmaker's shop above a narrow alley; the proprietor sells clocks, keys and useful odds and ends. The Clock's presence is implied rather than obvious: the shop plays coded chimes at odd hours, and the back rooms' floorboards creak in a pattern familiar to initiates. A locked trapdoor behind a false wall leads to a stair down into cistern tunnels used by the guild and its archive. Regular customers sometimes receive a stamped brass cog tucked into their bag as a mark of favor.”
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