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Hornet’s path through the haunted kingdom of Pharloom was paved with battles, secrets, and the constant need for better tools. No lone traveler survives long without aid, and scattered across the crumbling landscape were peculiar figures willing to trade. From cartographers to smiths and mysterious wanderers who appeared like ghosts, each vendor held a piece of the puzzle. Some demanded hard-earned Rosaries; others required rare materials and proof of courage. A meticulous explorer who tracked them all would never want for a sharpened needle or a detailed map again. Here is the tale of every merchant Hornet could find, when she found them, and what they offered.
In the damp, overgrown hollows of Moss Grotto, Hornet’s first steps into the wider world were eased by a pair of unlikely shopkeepers. Near the settlement known as Bone Bottom, a tiny merchant called Pebb had set up stall just east of the worn stone bench. Her stock was surprisingly varied for such an early stretch of the journey.
A second, more elusive encounter waited a short leap away. Traveling east past Pebb, Hornet discovered a set of floating platforms drifting above the mossy pools. In that elevated nook, the enigmatic Shakra made her first appearance. She was not always there—sometimes she seemed to vanish like morning mist, only to reappear after Hornet had grown stronger. When she did linger, her cloak of maps and charms was a welcome sight. Attacking the ring-like structure on the platform sometimes summoned her, as if the act of challenge drew her near. Shakra’s inventory was a constant companion throughout the journey, expanding with each new region.
Descending into the pale, bone-choked corridors of The Marrow, Hornet found no unique merchants—only the familiar silhouette of Shakra. She had made her camp in the northwestern reaches, a short trek east of the Mosshome enclave. True to form, she sold the same essential gear, but her mere presence was a comfort in that desolate labyrinth.
The heat of lava and the clang of ancient industry filled the Deep Docks. Shakra had placed herself directly east of the entrance from The Marrow, perched on a tiny ledge just above the molten flow. Two screens to the right, keeping to the lower paths, brought Hornet to her.
But the Deep Docks hid a far more significant craftsman: the Forge Daughter. From Shakra’s perch, Hornet moved one screen east and one down to the central bench, then found the Forge Daughter just east of it. This smith’s true potential only unfolded when Hornet brought her fragments of Craftmetal—gleaming shards snatched from the depths. Without them, her inventory remained locked, tantalizing but unreachable.
The tangled wilds of Hunter’s March hosted two potential safe havens. Shakra appeared near the map marker shown on old adventurers’ charts, but she also possessed a second, eastern hideout—one she would only retreat to if Hornet abandoned the arena battle where the wanderer lent her aid. In either spot, Shakra’s stock now included the Hunter’s March map, priced at 70 Rosaries.
A more puzzling trader lurked north of her. Mottled Skarr resided in the large vertical shaft, in the second room from the top on the left side. Reaching him required the glide ability—a gift Hornet earned later. Strangely, as the tale progressed, Mottled Skarr vanished. Yet the merchant, as if prepared for his own departure, left behind his wares. Returning to that spot, Hornet could collect the Fractured Mask; the Curveclaw materialized in the room directly above. It felt less like abandonment and more like a final, silent transaction.
In the golden vastness of the Far Fields, Shakra had claimed a small chamber just south of the Bellway station and its bench. Alongside her regular goods, she offered the Far Fields map for 50 Rosaries.
A unique vendor called Mort made his home right in the middle of Pilgrim’s Rest. Surly and pragmatic, he had locked himself inside a building. Each entry cost a toll of 30 Rosaries—a steep price for a wanderer low on coin. Hornet discovered a permanent solution by breaking the gears positioned just above the door to Mort’s right, springing the lock forever and earning a scowling merchant’s reluctant service.
Despite the sprawling, mist-choked expanse of Greymoor, only one trader weathered its gloom. Shakra had stationed herself a single screen east of the entry point from Far Fields. The simplicity of her location was betrayed by the treasures she now carried: maps of both Greymoor and Bellhart, costing 70 and 40 Rosaries respectively. With these in hand, Hornet could navigate the crumbling halls without losing herself to the whispers.
The rain-soaked town of Bellhart offered two merchants, but only after Hornet laid the Widow to rest. In the large central square, Shakra appeared with an expanded selection. She now sold, among her usual wares, several curiosities found nowhere else. Right beside her, along the bottom edge on the left side, Frey had set up her own stall. Unlike the eternal map-seller, Frey’s inventory evolved as Hornet progressed through sidequests, rewarding those who wove themselves into the settlement’s sorrowful story.
The thick forest of Shellwood held only Shakra. From the great central bench—the one with three bells and an elevator—Hornet traveled a single screen west, dropped to the bottom, and continued westward. There Shakra waited, maps of Greymoor, Bellhart, and Shellwood itself now available, ensuring that no twist of branch remained uncharted.
The ash-choked Blasted Steps served as a crossroads of memory and commerce. Shakra lurked one room north and one room east of the upper entrance from Shellwood, her satchels heavy with maps for Sinner’s Road and the Blasted Steps themselves.
But the most momentous reunion happened in the northwesternmost chamber, accessible only with the double-jump ability acquired atop Mount Fay. There, Grindle—a figure Hornet had met much earlier—resurfaced as a full-fledged merchant. His reappearance bridged the past and the present, offering wares that rewarded those who backtracked with newfound agility.
Along the narrow, guilt-ridden path of Sinner’s Road, Hornet encountered only one source of solace. Shakra sat near the west-side bench, as if waiting for those who needed direction in their penitence. She sold the region’s map for 70 Rosaries.
Beneath the scorching sun of the Sands of Karak, Shakra had found shade at a marked point far from the shifting dunes. She demanded 90 Rosaries for the map of this harsh land—a fair price for knowledge that prevented endless wandering among the ruins. Reaching her required careful navigation, but the reward was clarity.
Deep beneath the world, in the claustrophobic Underworks, the Twelfth Architect was the sole beacon of commerce. Like the Forge Daughter, this enigmatic figure required Craftmetal to unlock the finest items. Hornet brought the necessary fragments, and in return received tools that sang with hidden power.
In the toxic sprawl of Bilewater, Shakra occupied a spot on the east side of a massive vertical room. To reach her, Hornet needed both the grappling hook and the double jump—proof that even a humble map-seller demanded mastery. The Bilewater map cost 90 Rosaries, a small sum to untangle the poisonous labyrinth.
Within the melodious halls of the Choral Chambers, Hornet discovered a merchant born of song. Jubilana materialized only after completing the quest The Wandering Merchant, and her inventory later expanded when Hornet finished The Lost Merchant. This song-bound seller offered a Spool Fragment, an upgrade that sharpened Hornet’s combat prowess to a new pitch.
The final leg of Hornet’s shopping pilgrimage took her to the windswept peak of Mount Fay. Just west of the southernmost entry from The Slab, Shakra stood one last time. She sold the Mount Fay map for 40 Rosaries. With that parchment unfurled, every corner of the map was filled, every merchant had been found, and Hornet’s needle was as sharp as the stories she had accumulated along the way.
From the mossy start to the towering summit, these scattered souls defined Hornet’s journey as much as any boss fight. Each merchant tethered her to the world, their inventories a response to her growth. In the end, the map was complete, but the memory of those encounters—the locked doors, the vanished traders, the tolls paid and bypassed—remained as vivid as the glowing characters on her worn parchment.
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