A fifty foot coil of rough hemp rope. Reliable for climbing, tying off, or lashing crates in a hurry.

A plain bedroll for nights on the road. Clean enough and padded for a city dweller used to hard benches.

A tinderbox to spark a flame. Handy for lanterns, stoves, and illicit alley smokes.

A hand torch. Good for short-term illumination and theatrical entrances.

A brass hooded lantern that tucks its light when you need shade. Popular with late-night delivery boys.

Flask of lamp oil, unglamorous but essential for a city that prefers lamplight to streetlamps.

A hardened crowbar with a scuffed wooden handle. Good for stubborn doors and noisy exits.

A compact kit of salves, linens, and splints. Not miraculous, but it staunches blood and helps stabilize the hurt.

A tidy roll of lockpicks and small tools. Illegal in some wards, expensive in others.

Well stitched waterskin. Keeps water cool and doesn't slosh much when tucked in a satchel.

A polished steel mirror, the kind a looking-glass maker would sell on a whim to a flapper or a pickpocket.

Hard soap wrapped in waxed paper. The shop keeps a little stack near the counter for customers to freshen up.

A single stick of soft chalk. Patrons use it to mark tables, count days, or sketch a map on a crate.

A stout brass padlock. The shop will rekey to match if you leave it long enough and pay a little extra.

A pair of weighted brass dice stamped with tiny stars. Perfect for gamblers and superstitious thieves.

A forensics brush and vial set, marketed to private eyes and worried debutantes. More theatrical than scientific, but handy.

A bluesy harmonica. Popular for alleyway signals and cheap performances in corner rooms.

A pocket ledger with a ribbon marker. A favourite of bookkeepers, spies, and errand boys.

A concealed garrote wire set in a velvet sleeve. Sells to shady patrons and stage magicians alike.

A cloudy brown bottle with a cork and a hand-lettered label. Folks swear by it after a brawl or a long night.