The oppressive silence of Arthur's arrival hung heavy over the black market. As he moved deeper into the labyrinthine passages, the crowd instinctively parted for him. Whispers rippled through the gathering, their voices tinged with awe, fear, and curiosity.
Traders and guards alike avoided his gaze, their eyes darting nervously to the lantern magically trailing behind him. Its blue fire pulsed faintly, casting shifting shadows across the stone and green coal walls, its presence a constant reminder of its owner's mysterious power.
Arthur's stride carried him to a stall where a seafolk merchant stood, no one special.
The merchant, had his fin-like appendages extended from his arms, twitching slightly as he observed him. Their sharp, curious eyes flicked to the lantern, narrowing as if assessing its worth.
Arthur stopped before him, the faint light of his lantern illuminating the merchant's features.
