Ponzas! is small pawn shop on Horseblood Lane, a crooked narrow thoroughfare with an even more crooked reputation, in one of the many poor districts of Vercelone.
The reinforced door opens into a small room, with a large counter blocking access to many shelves. They are packed with all manner of merchandise. A guard sits on a high stool between the door and the counter. His glare is hostile but bored.
The proprietor, the eponymous Ponza himself, stands behind the counter. His suspiciously jet black hair is coated in oil, his sallow skin is pox marked and beaded with sweat. He is quite fat. Large rolls of flesh waggling as he moves. His demeanour is calm but his eyes promise violence. The unwashed odour of Ponza and his guard complement the musty smell of the dust covered shelves.
Most of Ponzas stock is deliberately positioned out of easy reach. This hints at the kind of clientele that Ponzas attracts.