The shop is wedged right against the tavern wall, with a fogged front window showing candles, salves, twine, and a row of chipped mugs repurposed as containers. The counter is narrow enough that customers must stand shoulder to shoulder, and the shelves climb almost to the ceiling with crates of tallow, nails, herbs, lamp oil, and repair scraps. A shared back court collects ash, broken barrel hoops, and delivery crates from both businesses, which means the owner knows everyone who comes and goes. Borrowed chairs drift between the tavern and the shop, and each side quietly suspects the other of pocketing loose coin, clean mugs, or unattended parcels. The shopkeeper is sharp-eyed, frugal, and perpetually tired from tavern noise, but still depends on the same rowdy patrons for most of the day’s sales and gossip. One nearby NPC buys practical supplies here without fail, while another resents the proprietor for overcharging on late-night oil and keeping a ledger of every minor debt.