With but a name, these places fill common folk with apprehension and dread
Even the most despicable and evil Tyrant will be convinced they pale in comparison to this monstrosity.
“Swiftly, repent! The Saintmaker is coming!”
An otherwise simple spear, the dread blade of Hatred brings rot and decay to all it strikes, be it armour, body, or soul.
A glowing green stone flowing with the elemental power of evil
A standard book of evil.
A handsome bed set, obviously expensive and likely both old, and imported.
The accepted mode of getting otherwise unobtainable information is to go visit the cranky old hermit living in the mountains. It's just the sensible thing to do. So, naturally, everyone takes their monthly excursion to the hermit's hovel to consult him on everything, from lock-jaw to lovesickness, necromancers to nasal viruses.
Now, if everyone's always visiting the poor old hermit, there's going to be an enormous queue... "Wellcome to the Hermitt's Hovele, Please Take Ye a Number and Have Ye a Seate" reads the sign outside the packed dwelling.
Imagine the poor hermit, having retreated into the mountains to escape this precise situation...