[Palactra House of Fine Forgery]
Charlie Palactra, the unwashed Dwarven proprietor of this ambitiously entitled emporium, has clearly sacrificed social skills in pursuit of his singular talent for weaponsmithing. Judging by the half-legible scrawl disfiguring a scrap of parchment pinned to the tent flap, literacy has long since proved of little concern. Likewise, the aesthetically displeasing hide walls of his stinking pavilion bear testimony to a blithe disregard for the comfort of the customer, and the nicer things in life. You also see the tent flap.
Obvious exits: none.