The Dismal Harness

Est. 2026 Human Artificer

The Dismal Harness

The shop is dim and always damp, the single oil lamp guttering as though the light itself feels tired. A bell above the door hangs unused; when customers enter ...

GA

Shopkeeper

Garruk Vell, a Human Artificer (Lvl 6)

Keeper's Species

Human

6 Weapons5 Armor1 Potions3 MiscEst. 2.1k gp

Shop Inventory

(15)
Weapons6

A serviceable longsword, edge nicked but still dependable. The leather on the grip is damp from the air.

A serviceable longbow with a frayed string; good for hunters and forlorn lookouts.

A light crossbow that has been oiled too seldom. It clicks in an ungenerous way.

A chipped dagger with a stained pommel. Cheap, useful, and easy to hide.

A longsword with a faintly warm grip and a small maker's mark that is half-worn away.

Atk +1 to attack and damage rolls.

A greatsword with a rust-streaked edge. It carries the feel of past battles and unfinished repairs.

-1 to attack rolls until repaired.
Armor5

Interlocking rings of steel stained with age. It smells faintly of old smoke and oil.

AC +16

A battered round shield: gouges, a faded heraldic device scratched away.

AC +2

A breastplate dulled to a matte gray. Rivets are tight; straps smell of sweat and oil.

AC +14

Gleaming seams of adamantine pierce the dull rings; it feels unbearably heavy to look at.

AC +16Critical hits against wearer count as normal hits (negates extra critical effects).

A slabbed shield reinforced with a faint rune; cheaper than it looks, if you ignore the soot.

AC +3 bonus to AC in addition to the shield's normal +2.
Potions1

A small glass phial with a dull red liquid. The cork is sealed with black wax bearing the shop's mark.

Heal 7 HP
Miscellaneous3

A gritty whetstone tied with string. It smells faintly of iron filings and old tobacco.

A coil of rough rope, frayed at the ends. Useful for ladders, pulleys, and ugly compromises.

A crude spike you can bolt to a shield's rim. Practical and a little shameful.

GA

Garruk Vell

HumanArtificerLvl 6

Shop Atmosphere

The shop is dim and always damp, the single oil lamp guttering as though the light itself feels tired. A bell above the door hangs unused; when customers enter Garruk only glances up from the bench, then lowers his eyes again. A chalkboard behind the counter lists items and prices in a cramped hand, callused fingers smearing the letters. He offers small discounts only in exchange for stories of loss or battle scars. The forge wheezes in the back like something half alive and half asleep.
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