A Collector's Playhouse. It was a peculiar name for a shop, but that only added to its appeal. Helga had risen early that morning to attend the ribbon-cutting ceremony, where they'd been promised not only a good time, but also a gift for the road as well!

Helga and her companion arrived just as everyone was being shuffled through the door into a surprisingly dark room that smelled, frankly, like dead rats.

"I'm surprised they haven't invested in adequate lighting," she murmured to the person next to her, the discomfort setting in as someone else's shoulder collided with her own. Helga gulped."And a bigger space, perhaps. Does anyone else feel warm?"

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