“Jundor's Leather and Pelts sits in a narrow lane inside Asphemor's artisan quarter, its doorway flanked by racks of mounted heads and neat rolls of cured hides. The air inside smells of oil, smoke, and the faint tang of salt from the sea beyond the city. Pewter hooks hang from a low ceiling, bearing pelts whose patterns no city tanner has seen before. Half the shop is dedicated to display: a carved stag-back mannequin wears Jundor's best sale piece, while the back rooms contain jars of tanning mixtures and careful stacks of hides sorted by region. Jundor Far-Tracker, the owner, is a broad-shouldered human of fifty with weathered skin and eyes like chipped flint. He moves with the quiet surety of a hunter. His left shoulder bears a faded tattoo marking his two sanctioned journeys beyond Asphemor's walls. He speaks little of the beyond, but once he warms he will trade tall tales of blizzards that glassed the snow and reefs that smoked like coals. Jundor only sells what he trusts; every exotic pelt in his shop has a story and a useful quirk, and he insists on describing how a pelt was taken and what it is best used for. He keeps his rarest pieces locked in a cedar chest and asks for a hefty price and often an attunement period before the buyer may claim the full boon. The establishment is quiet at odd hours - Jundor closes early on market days to mend a seam or press a skin himself. He has a special pass from Asphemor's council allowing him to travel within the city's protected borders to hunt in special conservatories and menageries, and only twice in his life did he receive permission to step outside the walls. Those two outward trips are the source of his two highest prized trophies. Expect sharp bargaining, a careful inspection of items, and the occasional request from Jundor to test a cloak's warmth against a brazier before purchase.”