Alluvius Ruskin’s shop is not difficult to find, despite Sigil’s labyrinthine and frankly insane plan.  It begins to occur to you this has been par for the course, on this little mission, and you’re not sure whether you should be gratified or waiting for the other shoe to drop.<br/><br/>The store stands out in stark relief against the sharply gabled and bladed rooftops that make up most of Sigil’s inside-out ‘skyline,’ towering over the marketplace like a great viridian monument to mercantilism.  It is a monolithic cylinder, several stories tall and seemingly hewn from a single piece of green marble.  The edifice has no windows, but the name of the place can be seen carved into the rock repeatedly in a continuous wide spiral, from the curbstones to the roof:<br/><br/>TIVVUM’S ANTIQUITIES TIVVUM’S ANTIQUITIES TIVVUM’S ANTIQUITIES<br/><br/>Honestly, it is so unique and awe-inspiring you find yourself wondering whether it isn’t just a little too unique and awe-inspiring.  Really, all of this uniqueness and awe is starting to leave you numb.<br/><br/>The door to Tivvum’s Antiquities is fortunately relatively normal.  It appears to be made of wood, at least, and it stands open to admit walk-in traffic from the broad thoroughfare.  As you approach, a wall of scent hits you like a halfbrick.  While not precisely unpleasant, the place smells strongly of… everything.<br/><br/>The interior of the shop is evenly lit, but dim, and is filled with boxes, barrels, and crates of every description, filled to overflowing with sorted odds and ends.  Most of the bric-a-brac in the containers seems to have little or no purpose.  For a moment, you wonder if you haven’t somehow wandered into the wrong place, despite the obvious facade – and then you catch sight of Alluvius Ruskin.<br/><br/>Ruskin is exactly as the admiral described: a squat, almost ball-shaped old woman, with long, wavy white hair, pudgy features, and unmistakable horns.  She is dressed in a simple robe and apron, and she cackles eerily as she completes the sale of a handful of semi-precious gems to another customer, completing her image.<br/><br/>The other customer – a human and a mage, by the looks of him – affords you only an appraising glare as he brushes past and exits into the street.  He has a large lacquered pin prominently displayed on his collar that seems to depict a woman wearing a bladed nun’s wimple, of all things.<br/><br/>“Take a look around, my pretties,” Ruskin calls out from behind the counter in a scratchy but strong alto, waving her short arms to encompass the warehouse-like shop.  “Let Old Lu know if she can help what you’re looking for find you!”<br/>