Holy Ground, Unholy War

'Great, now as if the headache wasn't enough, I have some random salesman that wants to sell me something,' Zaroth cursed inwardly.

"Thanks, but I am not interested," he replied as he flashed a false smile at the man.

"Are you sure about that?" the man replied as he opened his suitcase and took out a bottle containing a few pills.

The salesman handed it to Zaroth with a smile. "It is quite clear you are suffering from a headache, so these pills would numb the pain."

"I said I don't want them," Zaroth replied, this time with a hint of frustration in his voice.

"Here you go. It's free. If you want more, you can find me here."

Despite Zaroth clearly refusing, the salesman put the bottle with the pills on the bench Zaroth was sitting on, alongside a business card that seemed to have an address written on it.