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"Yes...yes, welcome to my shop."

The voice is deep, gurgling sounds reformed into words. The sound of it makes the hair stand on the back of your neck, as if it not only uncomfortable to hear, but also makes your mind feel filthy to comprehend.

You look down to see the handsome looking canid behind the desk, only to jump back in revulsion at the writhing thing on the other side of it. There is a chuckle, the male unmoving.

"Please, do not mind my pet. He may look intimidating but he is very harmless. You would be surprised how often I require the use of fingers in my work around the shop."

It is then you realize, with horrid clarity, that what has been speaking to you, what is apparently the owner of this shop, was in fact the writhing tentacle mass on the desk. It flips the page of a book it appears to be reading with a number of the several eyes sitting its undulating body, the rest of which are peering at you.

"Now, what kind of crystal do you need?"