The shop was a faithful recreation of the main outlet in Emon where Gilmore had his first fateful meeting with the members of Vox Machina. It had escaped the sorcerer's modernizing tastes in the years that he had spent in Preya, partially out of pride, partially out of nostalgia. Elaborate purple silks with gold trim hung from the walls and slightly colored scented smoke drifted through the air from the plethora of incense being burned in what was, ostensibly, a medieval magical Sephora.
Rings and wands, potions and scrolls all sparkled from their places upon the shelves and displays. There were a few wondrous items, enchanted shoes, and even a flying carpet out on display and marked with extravagant prices. Even a few modern items were on display, like a pair of stilettos that maintained your balance or a three piece suit that kept the wearer cool despite the temperature. Up a few stairs, toward the back, there were a few displays of weapons and pieces of armor-- some of them marked Not For Sale. And yes, near the front by the corner, was the familiar sight of the beaded curtain. And part it did.
Gilmore emerged in purple-gold extravagance that matched his shop's decor, a strange amalgamation of Marquesian fashion with Earth-like adaptions. The harem pants seemed like they should clash with the purple waistcoat but, perhaps by sheer force of personality, Gilmore made it work. The cape-like robe that he often wore as part of his wizard's track suit was exchanged for draping lengths of fabric running from one shoulder to the next and attached with glittering, gold-chain pauldrons.
"I'm surprised," the man greeted jovially in his deep, booming voice, "at least half of that is truth and without hyperbole."
Gilmore wore a bright smile, all pearly white framed by his dark beard, and his shoulder-length dark hair blew flatteringly away from his face by virtue of some phantom, magical breeze. He gestured warmly with ring-covered fingers. "Scanlan, what a pleasure to see you! Are you playing in Brightford today?"
The grandiose sorcerer came further into the main room and passed beyond the counter. He bent down into a crouch and brought the gnome into a tight, friendly hug that ended with a clap on the man's back. "Would you like something to drink? I'm sampling a few wines for a patron event, and I admit that I cannot pick my favorite. You have the keenest tongue I know."