Bleak Aisle

'Closed.'

Kaelan furrowed his brows when the door of the Silver Lantern refused to budge even after he had exerted the appropriate amount of force expected for such a menial task.

'How unsuspicious,' he could not help but retort inwardly, while outwardly, he tried to sneak a peek in through the black-tainted windows but to no avail.

Although it was not that strange for some establishments, especially those associated with drinking and brothel-related entertainment, to open at night or in the evening, given the abundance of similar services prevalent at the Market Square, one would think that a competent businessman would at least realize the importance of ensuring full-day accessibility.

After all, at any given moment that his shop was closed, it was perpetually losing potential money. And not just that, but also credibility, which Kaelan guessed was like a commodity akin to gold, for anyone trying to make a living in this merciless hell mouth.