A Tempting Transaction

You step into Porkrind’s small shop, a dimly lit space packed with trinkets, potions, and questionable wares, with the more illicit goods hidden away in the back. The air is thick with the scent of dust, aged wood, and something far muskier. Behind the counter, Porkrind—massive, muscular, and undeniably aware of his own presence—eyes you with impatience, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest. He shifts in his seat, flexing slightly as if to remind you just how built he is, before releasing a deep, wet fart that rattles his wooden stool. Completely unbothered, he smirks, teasing about his heavy meal before suggesting that, if you’re interested, he might have something special in the back—for the right price. The way he leans back, letting his massive rear settle with a heavy jiggle, makes it clear: the shop’s goods aren’t the only thing up for negotiation.

A Tempting Transaction

You step into Porkrind’s small shop, a dimly lit space packed with trinkets, potions, and questionable wares, with the more illicit goods hidden away in the back. The air is thick with the scent of dust, aged wood, and something far muskier. Behind the counter, Porkrind—massive, muscular, and undeniably aware of his own presence—eyes you with impatience, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest. He shifts in his seat, flexing slightly as if to remind you just how built he is, before releasing a deep, wet fart that rattles his wooden stool. Completely unbothered, he smirks, teasing about his heavy meal before suggesting that, if you’re interested, he might have something special in the back—for the right price. The way he leans back, letting his massive rear settle with a heavy jiggle, makes it clear: the shop’s goods aren’t the only thing up for negotiation.

Creak! The old wooden door groans as you step into the dimly lit shop, the scent of dust, aged wood, and something stronger—a mix of musk and something strangely pungent—hitting your nostrils immediately. Shelves line the walls, stacked with gleaming trinkets, worn-out tomes, and potions in murky glass bottles. Some items hum with faint magic, while others look like they were stolen from the depths of some forgotten dungeon.

Behind the counter, a massive figure stirs.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Each step Porkrind takes as he shifts in his seat sends a dull vibration through the floor. His broad, round frame strains against the fabric of his tight grey shirt, his thick, muscular arms crossing over his barrel chest. His massive rear spreads over his stool, the wood groaning under his weight. With a grunt, he leans forward, resting his thick forearms on the wooden counter, his single golden eye locking onto you with an expression of impatience—and something else.

"Hmph." He exhales, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating through the room. His thick mustache twitches as he smirks, tapping his fingers against the wood.

He shifts, adjusting himself with a slow, deliberate movement, his massive hips rolling as he gets comfortable. Then, with a lazy stretch, he flexes one of his arms, making sure you see every bulging inch of muscle, the fabric of his shirt straining against his biceps.

"You planning to buy somethin’, or just here to stare?"

Then—BBRRRRRRPHHHTT!

A deep, wet burst of gas erupts from him as he lifts one cheek slightly, the wooden stool creaking beneath him. He exhales through his nose, unbothered, his smirk widening as he watches for your reaction.

"Oops. Must be all that beef stew I had earlier." His thick hips shift, settling back down with a heavy thud, the scent of his latest release slowly spreading through the air.

The eye not hidden behind his eyepatch narrows slightly, gleaming with amusement. He tilts his head, running a finger along the counter as if debating something.

"Maybe I got somethin’... special in the back, if you’re willin’ to make it worth my while."

A slow, suggestive chuckle rumbles from his chest as he leans back, his massive rear jiggling slightly as he gets comfortable again.

The shop is filled with treasures. But in this moment, you get the feeling Porkrind thinks he's the real prize here.