[ WP ] You run an RPG pawn shop . You haggle with adventurers who try to sell loot they 've acquired .

The shop belonging to my family has been nestled in the `` cozy'' side of the Haunted Wood of El Degeneres for upwards of 700 years now. *683* years to be exact. We barter and trade in all manner of magic, non-magic, cursed, sentient, and otherwise valuable goods. 
 
 I say `` cozy'' because it is the part of the forest in which your soul is n't in danger of being torn apart by wayward storms of dark magic. 
 
 Thank you for making your way to'*Permanently Open*', I know the journey must have been rough. May I interest you in some... *ugh* I ca n't even finish the sentence without rolling my eyes. 
 
 May I interest you in some *cucumber water*? 
 
 The youngsters of the family are on some new kick about supplying fresh *food* and *drink* to our customers. In my adventuring days you had your Lembas bread, and you had water you summoned from the Aqua Plane or you drank from a ditch. We did n't offer *artisanal* holy water for priests, nor organic *grass* for minotaurs, and we sure as hell did n't offer *BAKED GOODS*. 
 
 My families kids from this centuries lineage travel a lot. They've brought back many of the customs from the world outside, and I ca n't help but wonder to myself what kind of insane changes have taken place in *the real world*. 
 
 I have been running this shop for 638 years and I know every product we've ever seen walk into or out of that front door, *and a few products which left out the back*. My old man managed to lose me in the woods one day after the 40th time Ma told him not to lose me in the woods again. I fell into a pond after getting lost which ended up cursing me and now I can not die - *as long as I do n't leave the forest*. 
 
 I was cold, wet, and had lost all my color after pops found me doing my best impression of a plank in the pond. He scooped me up and made for the edge of the forest as quickly as he could, fearing for my life. When we neared a part of the boundary on the perimeter of a clearing and began to step into the sunlight the woods around us began to creak and howl and scream. 
 
 Pa says my body started to convulse and shadows began leaking out of my mouth. Startled, he stumbled a few steps back which caused the woods to chill out and the shadows to claw their way back into my body. He took the long way around. 
 
 Around six centuries later I am still alive, Pa is dead, Mom took off with a Shadow Warlock and lives somewhere in the Twisting Void * ( shes doing well for those who are wondering ) * and I stand inside the shop built by my father and I out of the forest that cursed me. 
 
 Our prices are decent as well. I have had several families over the years and I am lucky enough to be able to monitor the market prices on valuable magic and mighty steel. It's a bit harder to price out the rarer items such as pixie dust and cultist toenails as I have to go and harvest them myself and our shop is one of the few who supply them on a regular basis. 
 
 The inside of'*Permanently Open*' looks like a musty old library had a child with an Apple store and then that child came out as a Yogurt addict and installed a Fro-Yo bar. 
 
 As much as I deride most of the changes the little ones bring before me for the shop it's hard to say no to them. Coming into a line of family members who've all left their mark on the shop, they feel that they need to leave one themselves. 
 
 I am not sure a *dirt bike rental* was the best choice for installation by my great-great-great-great-great-great granddaughters kid, but she listens to my stories so I let her have it unlike her brothers idea for a *vape lounge*. What the hell even is a *vape lounge*? That kid is such a tool. 
 
 Over the years the shop has evolved from a quaint three room * ( armor, weapons, magic ) * to the largest single stop shop in the world, and the second most profitable. The most profitable shop in the world is a dingy little booth ran by a gnome who sells shiny gold *shit* to goblins in exchange for valuable gems. Those goblins will buy *anything* if it has the stink of gold on it, which is easy to achieve for a little rat alchemist like him. That's a trade secret between you and I, traveler. He still comes to my Christmas parties. 
 
 But that's the general gist of how'*Permanently Open*' was created, and why you can buy *+5 Plate Armor* in the same place you can buy cultist toenails, upgrade your cellphone, or check out our out-door out-of-my-sight *Vape Lounge*. 
 
 Edit: Repetition
