Inside, there are plenty of arms and armors, most of it bigger than they'd be able to use, made for - as was much down here - trolls and dwarves and orks, not elves and humans.  Speaking of trolls, that's who was running the place, not the biggest one ever seen but his bare shoulders from his wifebeater both sport bullet holes attempted to be covered by tattoos, the tats of a tribal design in white against his black skin.  He seemed a friendly enough fellow, and went to greet... but when Docca came in view, his jaw went slack, the greeting lost, and a giggle from Docca in response...<br/><br/>"Huh?  Oh, oh, right, hey, yeah." he caught himself, rubbing his horns and slurring a bit around his tusks, not an uncommon thing "Yeah, we got those.  Lots of those, hell, you take the lot away from me and I'll give you a deal, 30 a pop, ten or more I'll dock it ten percent.  Question is can you supply me with an ID for them?"<br/><br/><"Hmm... think we'll only need two or three won't we?"> Docca said in a whisper... in rather rough Japanese <"Think you can cover them?  I can't afford to give out a whole lot of cash right now, sorry.">