The Bold Adventures of Poins--On the Town

[jkason]

Weel produces the wand first, handing it over to Caradoc and standing aside to let the man wheel and deal.

 

[Rhialto]

Granthus nods. "Well, such a deal must be handled by Master Gyse." Granthus steps back to the stocky man slumbering at his desk, and gives him a shake. "Master Gyse, some gentlemen have some items they wish to sell you."

The rheumy-eyed Kessel Gyse awakens, with a yawn. "Sell? By the Reaper's Dark Hideyhole, Granthus, like I told you, I'm not taking any worthless garbage. These mountain bandits aren't getting money for the trash their forefathers stole thinking it was valuable..."

"These are soldiers, sir," says Granthus.

Kessel frowns. "Soldiers, bandits--what's the difference? Tell them no!"

"They are selling a greatsword of some value, and a magic wand," notes Granthus. "Both items might be worth the investment..."

Kessel sneezes, then blinks. "Well, bring them here." He glances at Granthus. "And you prepare to verify the wand."

Granthus bows. "I shall do so immediately."

Kessel glances at the recruits, and then waves them forward, as he takes a pair of glasses and places them on his eyes.

 

[jkason]

Weel has the presence of mind not to admit he's no real skill at appraising their loot, but rather presents the greatsword once the wand's been given over into Granthus' care.

 

[Rhialto]

Kessel regards the sword minutely for a while, then nods. Shortly thereafter, Granthus returns with the wand, nodding. "Genuine, and fully charged."

Kessel nods as he hears Granthus's report, then regards the recruits calmly. "A hundred for the sword, fifty for the wand." He folds his heavily ringed hands before him. "That is my offer."

 

[jkason]

Weel raises an eyebrow at the prices, but says nothing. He looks to Caradoc to see if the more experience negotiator thinks they might be able to haggle a better price.

 

[Bloodcookie]

Kessel regards the sword minutely for a while, then nods. Shortly thereafter, Granthus returns with the wand, nodding. "Genuine, and fully charged."

Kessel nods as he hears Granthus's report, then regards the recruits calmly. "A hundred for the sword, fifty for the wand." He folds his heavily ringed hands before him. "That is my offer."

OOC: If it's alright, I'll assume my ranks in Appraise and general mercantile background let me know what the items would normally be worth

"Ah... well, that is certainly a fair price for the sword, and we will accept it. As for the wand, however... I must ask, is there so little demand for such? If it would not be worth your while to offer a price nearer the market value, while I would certainly sympathize, we may be inclined to wait until we come across more eager buyers."
Caradoc steeples his fingers and arches his eybrows in the universal signal for "the ball's in your court".

 

[Rhialto]

Kessel's flabby lips spread in a grotesque grin. "HA! Listen to him, Granthus! The mountain boy has spunk!" He frowns. "I hate spunk. Now, listen to me, child--I am probably the only person buying objects of this nature in New Holyhall at the moment. I am the representive of the Merchant Emporium, and a head of the Gyse family--one of the oldest families in the Traders' Compact. I am being generous in my prices, because, in all honesty, I could pay you whatever I want, and you would have little choice but to accept it." He smiles again, though now there is an edge of malice in it. "In fact--for your insolence--50 gold eagles is my buying price for the sword now."

 

[jkason]

Weel frowns at the reduced offer, and decides to play spoiler. He grabs both the sword and the wand, and puts on his most polite, somberly priestly face.

"We lost a good soldier in the battle where we claimed these. Almost two," here he glances at Alan. "The more I think about it, the more I think it better we keep them for a time to remind us what this war may cost us, rather than toss them away for a small bag of gold."

 

[mps42]

Graevel

Graevel continues to wander the ten-lined avenues of the makeshift city, lost in his own thoughts.

 

[Rhialto]

Graevel:

[sblock]As Graevel walks, he's startled when one of the wild Nibelungen--a Cobnyeu, is what a true Hob calls them--bumps into him, and then scurries away, without even an apology.

He thinks nothing of it at first--but then realizes his purse is gone.[/sblock]