The Drowned Lantern General Goods
Est. 2025 • Half-elf Warlock
The Drowned Lantern General Goods
The shop smells faintly of brine and old paper. A small tank of black water bubbles in one corner; sometimes the proprietor sets an empty glass eye on the count...
Shopkeeper
Maris Cael, a Half-elf Warlock (Lvl 9)
Keeper's Species
Half-elf
Shop Inventory
(22)Standard pine torch, soaked in pitch. Useful for dark tunnels and fearful things that hate light.
A 50-foot coil of hempen rope. A reliable, everyday tool for adventurers and fishermen.
A compact package of preserved food. Keeps a traveler fed for one day.
A simple bedroll for sleeping on the road or in ruined temples.
Standard adventurer's backpack. Holds common adventuring gear comfortably.
A reliable waterskin, sealed with oil-treated leather.
A healer's kit containing bandages and tools to stem bleeding and set bones.
A fully-stocked thieves' tools set, neatly made and oiled.
A canvas bag whose mouth looks ordinary but opens onto impossible volume.
An ever-burning lantern with a faint scent of brine. Useful for exploring long-abandoned halls.
A small jar filled with a slow whisper. Locals say it contains pieces of an old god's memory.
A compass carved with a nautilus motif; its needle seems to remember distant shores.
An oily vial labeled with a warning in many languages. The oil makes limbs and weapons feel wrongly long.
A bottle of ink that seems to absorb light. Scholars pay dearly for its permanence.
A small glass phial of bitter antitoxin. A comfort for those who go where venoms wait.
A small crystalline phial containing a ruby-red liquid that soothes wounds.
A larger, deeper-red potion favored by those who venture into elder ruins.
A potent vial, expensive and rare. Meant for dire wounds and desperate measures.
A well-balanced +1 longsword polished to a dull midnight sheen.
A hammered steel shield with faint wave motifs; a subtle magic wards its bearer.
A dark, hooded cloak embroidered with tiny, phosphorescent symbols. It hums faintly.
A circlet whose curve mimics the curl of a shell. It chills the skin pleasantly.
Maris Cael
Shop Atmosphere
“The shop smells faintly of brine and old paper. A small tank of black water bubbles in one corner; sometimes the proprietor sets an empty glass eye on the counter and it will stare at a customer until they buy something. The proprietor speaks in soft, courteous sentences and occasionally hums a tune no one can remember. Haggling is permitted but the proprietor keeps a brass tally of bargains and will occasionally demand a 'service' in lieu of coin.”
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