Behind the counter stood a robust dwarf with long brown hair; he wore a short-sleeved linen tunic over a leather apron, darkened by years of forging. His sturdy, slightly baggy trousers were secured by a thick belt. Calloused hands remained bare; no gloves were needed while simple iron-toed boots provided firm footing. A sweat-stained cloth was tucked into his belt.
Kian took a good look and made his way toward the counter, putting the chest on it.
"Excuse me," he said, with a slight bow.
"What do you need?" the dwarf bluntly stated, barely sparing Kian a glance.
"I heard this shop has a good reputation, so I was wondering if I could sell some weapons here and buy some as well."
The dwarf turned his head toward Kian, looked at the chest, and snorted. "Show me what you want to sell, and then I'll decide," he said.
"Grant! Get over here," he shouted over his shoulder. "Some human wants to sell weapons."
