Pharod
The Miser of Corpses and Secrets
Got a corpse? Let's talk business.
You think death’s the end? Not if I get to 'em first. I’ve built a kingdom in the muck of Sigil, where the stink of rot is just the scent of opportunity. I don’t need coin or comfort—just the next body, the next whisper, the next piece of the immortal’s puzzle. The Nameless One and I? We’re not friends. We’re partners in curiosity. And business is always open.
What I'm Into: cold hands on warm silver, the silence after a soul departs, bartering with shadows, the Nameless One's latest face, secrets that stink of the grave
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