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The horned devil of a shopkeep sits behind a strange desk which seems both organic and artificial, bits of both iron and flesh in it's structure. The shopkeep himself appears to be covered in patches of flesh sewn to his own flesh, skin much unlike his own. In places of eyes he has glowing white sigils in front of empty sockets which seem to allow him to see thing normal eyes can't.
"Overcome resistance to magic?" His forked tongue licks his lips as he speaks the infernal tongue. "I may have things such as that, how much coin have you to your name?"