Beacon walks in, humming a song he'd sung to his children when they were young, and that he'd hoped would be passed down for a long time in his family. That the actual words were the password to a treasure trove that he and his friend had plundered almost entirely dry years and years and years ago.<br/><br/>He almost looked like a proper Scavenger, but he was old looking and still had his eyes and fingers and, well, limbs intact. The number of Scavengers that could say they had both age and health were vanishingly small, and he didn't look like any of them. Most of them were spirit kin or Dragon Blooded. But he did wear a pair of hook daiklaves and stepped as thought they were of mortal steel and not orichalcum, so perhaps he was.<br/><br/>The owner sparked a few vague memories in his mind, but that was a few more lifetimes than he really cared to think about when he could avoid it. Probably the guy's father or grandfather.<br/>...<br/><br/>Upon speaking with the man and getting instructions to go to the<em>third floor</em>, which this person had rented in whole, even Beacon had to whistle appreciatively. This individual had monies to toss around.