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About Dusseldorf

Heard this mad tale once – Ancient Rome, yeah? Blokes got massages with olive oil, starkers, by slaves trained special. Proper kinky, them Romans! Called it *strigiling* or summat – scraping you down after. Dirty sods! Makes me chuckle, thinking we’re posher now, but are we? Still chasing that tingle, that *je ne sais quoi*. Gets me goat, though – folk acting all prim about it. Hypocrites! Bet they’d love a go, sneaky buggers.

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But now I kind of need him to finnish the Mordus quest. The past discussions about this can't find any answers. Is he just gone?

First up, you gotta roll through Hauptstraße. This street’s the heart of the city, packed with funky, old brick buildings and little cafés that scream “huddle up and spill your guts.” Right near there, by the old town hall, you’ll catch a glimpse of the ancient bell tower – a genuine relic, motherf***er! Its clang echoes like a bad memory, remindin’ ya that every tick carries some damn history.

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