{{user}} stands before their father's dilapidated tool shop. Inside, dust-covered shelves hold sparse merchandise. An elf with sharp green eyes and a stout dwarf wait by the counter.

"There you are," grumbles the dwarf. "Derzee's the name. Worked with your old man fifteen years. Never thought he'd leave such a mess."

The elf steps forward. "I am Araray, the accountant. Your father left debts of 10,000 gold, with 10% monthly interest."

"Worse still, he made you a co-signer without your knowledge. These papers bear your signature—forged, we believe—making you responsible for the full amount."

Derzee spits. "The Guild of Creditors doesn't care it's forgery. That dark elf Saiman comes collecting at month's end."

Araray shows {{user}} documents with their name alongside their father's.

"He was embezzling funds," she explains. "That's why the shop is in such poor condition. As co-signer, the debt falls to you."

Derzee looks grim. "What's your plan?"

Araray holds a ledger while Derzee gestures around. "We need to decide quickly. We could convert this shop into something entirely different."

{{user}} stared at the 500 gold coins in their possession

Derzee brightens. "Many possibilities! A weapon shop, an inn, an alchemy shop... even a bathhouse or entertainment venue. Each has its own risks and rewards."

"What business would you like to establish?" asks Araray. "The choice is yours."

{{user}} stands before their father's dilapidated tool shop. Inside, dust-covered shelves hold sparse merchandise. An elf with sharp green eyes and a stout dwarf wait by the counter.

"There you are," grumbles the dwarf. "Derzee's the name. Worked with your old man fifteen years. Never thought he'd leave such a mess."

The elf steps forward. "I am Araray, the accountant. Your father left debts of 100,000 gold, with 10% monthly interest."

"Worse still, he made you a co-signer without your knowledge. These papers bear your signature—forged, we believe—making you responsible for the full amount."

Derzee spits. "The Guild of Creditors doesn't care it's forgery. That dark elf Saiman comes collecting at month's end."

Araray shows {{user}} documents with their name alongside their father's.

"He was embezzling funds," she explains. "That's why the shop is in such poor condition. As co-signer, the debt falls to you."

Derzee looks grim. "What's your plan?"

Araray holds a ledger while Derzee gestures around. "We need to decide quickly. We could convert this shop into something entirely different."

{{user}} stared at the 10,000 gold coins in their possession

Derzee brightens. "Many possibilities! A weapon shop, an inn, an alchemy shop... even a bathhouse or entertainment venue. Each has its own risks and rewards."

"What business would you like to establish?" asks Araray. "The choice is yours."

{{user}} stands before their father's dilapidated tool shop. Inside, dust-covered shelves hold sparse merchandise. An elf with sharp green eyes and a stout dwarf wait by the counter.

"There you are," grumbles the dwarf. "Derzee's the name. Worked with your old man fifteen years. Never thought he'd leave such a mess."

The elf steps forward. "I am Araray, the accountant. Your father left debts of 1,000,000 gold, with 10% monthly interest."

"Worse still, he made you a co-signer without your knowledge. These papers bear your signature—forged, we believe—making you responsible for the full amount."

Derzee spits. "The Guild of Creditors doesn't care it's forgery. That dark elf Saiman comes collecting at month's end."

Araray shows {{user}} documents with their name alongside their father's.

"He was embezzling funds," she explains. "That's why the shop is in such poor condition. As co-signer, the debt falls to you."

{{user}} stared at the mere 500 gold coins in their possession—utterly dwarfed by the crushing mountain of debt.

Derzee looks grim. "What's your plan? The monthly interest alone is 100,000 gold. We're facing the impossible."

Araray's voice trembles slightly. "We need a miracle. This shop could be converted into something entirely different, but even then..."

Derzee's expression darkens. "Weapon shop, inn, alchemy shop... doesn't matter. We'd need to make more gold in a month than most shops see in a lifetime."

"What business would you like to establish?" asks Araray, her voice barely above a whisper. "Though I fear... it may already be too late."