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<blockquote data-quote="Richards" data-source="post: 2279131" data-attributes="member: 508">&quot;How much?&quot; the gnome wanted to know.&quot;Ah, an excellent choice!&quot; replied the dealer.&nbsp; &quot;This is an exceptional vintage, sure to meet all required specifications as to duration, potency, and potability: so sweet, so clear, it glides down the throat with such a delectable piquancy I marvel that people don't purchase it for the taste alone!&quot;&quot;How much?&quot; the gnome repeated impatiently.&quot;My good sir, I can see you're a man of exceptional breeding: for you, a mere trifle, a pittance, a triviality, a piddling insignificance hardly worthy of mention.&quot;&quot;How much?&quot; the gnome persisted.&quot;Why, it's a steal at a mere sev-- uh, 850 pieces of gold.&quot;&quot;Eight-fifty?&quot; squeaked the gnome.&nbsp; &quot;That's one hell of a markup!&quot;&quot;Ah, but kind sir, look at the fine workmanship on the vial alone: this is handblown glass, made by an undisputed master of the art!&nbsp; See how it sparkles in the sunlight!&nbsp; No impurities there, let me assure you!&quot;&quot;You can keep the blasted vial,&quot; snarled the gnome.&nbsp; &quot;All I want's the potion!&quot;&quot;Ah, but this no ordinary potion, none of the common dross that flows from many an alchemist's lab around here; no, good sir, this is made only from the choicest ingredients, guaranteed to dance down your throat like a fine elven wine!&quot;&quot;I don't care if it tastes like frogswill!&nbsp; All I care's that it does what it's supposed to.&quot;&quot;My dear sir, you have my absolute guarantee on that.&quot;&quot;How many've you got?&quot;&quot;Ah, preparing to stock up in quantity!&nbsp; A most wise move, my good sir; your intelligence shines like a beacon for all the world to see!&nbsp; Yes, I guarantee that once you've tasted the excellence of this fine vintage, you'll be--&quot;The little gnome didn't let him finish.&nbsp; &quot;I need two vials,&quot; he said.&quot;Two it is, my good sir.&nbsp; That'll be, uh, let's see--&quot;&quot;That'll be 1,700 pieces of gold, if your figure of 850 apiece is accurate, which I highly doubt.&nbsp; Fortunately for you, I don't have time to argue.&nbsp; With the 150 for those three healing potions, that comes to 1,850.&nbsp; I assume you don't mind being paid in gemstones?&quot;&quot;My dear friend,&quot; replied the dealer, rubbing his hands in glee, &quot;I would expect no less from such a dignified client as yourself.&nbsp; What, pray tell, is your payment of choice?&nbsp; Rubies?&nbsp; Emeralds?&nbsp; Pearls, perhaps?&quot;The gnome muttered quietly to himself and pulled out a glimmering gemstone of lustrous beauty, shimmering in the sunlight and sending multicolored shafts of light dancing this way and that.&nbsp; &quot;It's a Barlenni diamond,&quot; he whispered, as if in awe.&nbsp; &quot;Valued at over 2,000 pieces of gold.&nbsp; Since I'm in such a hurry, you can keep the change for yourself if you hand over the potions at once.&quot;&quot;At once!&quot; agreed the dealer, wrapping the two glass potion vials in soft vellum to keep them from breaking.&nbsp; &quot;With utmost haste!&quot; he added, slipping them into a drawstring pouch with the three healing potions the gnome had selected previously.&nbsp; &quot;Taking neither one further jot nor tittle of your most valuable time!&quot; He passed the pouch over to his impatient customer with a flourish and received the glittering gem in return.&quot;You've definitely earned it,&quot; the gnome said, grabbing up the pouch and hurrying on his way, not bothering to tell the potion dealer that &quot;Barlenni&quot; was a gnomish word for &quot;false jewel.&quot;&nbsp; He figured the dealer would figure it out himself once the hastily-cast illusion expired and the diamond became once again a small lump of coal.After all, anyone trying to overcharge Javorik the Bold, Illusionist Extraordinaire got what he deserved.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Richards, post: 2279131, member: 508"] "How much?" the gnome wanted to know. "Ah, an excellent choice!" replied the dealer. "This is an exceptional vintage, sure to meet all required specifications as to duration, potency, and potability: so sweet, so clear, it glides down the throat with such a delectable piquancy I marvel that people don't purchase it for the taste alone!" "How much?" the gnome repeated impatiently. "My good sir, I can see you're a man of exceptional breeding: for you, a mere trifle, a pittance, a triviality, a piddling insignificance hardly worthy of mention." "How much?" the gnome persisted. "Why, it's a steal at a mere sev-- uh, 850 pieces of gold." "Eight-fifty?" squeaked the gnome. "That's one hell of a markup!" "Ah, but kind sir, look at the fine workmanship on the vial alone: this is handblown glass, made by an undisputed master of the art! See how it sparkles in the sunlight! No impurities there, let me assure you!" "You can keep the blasted vial," snarled the gnome. "All I want's the potion!" "Ah, but this no ordinary potion, none of the common dross that flows from many an alchemist's lab around here; no, good sir, this is made only from the choicest ingredients, guaranteed to dance down your throat like a fine elven wine!" "I don't care if it tastes like frogswill! All I care's that it does what it's supposed to." "My dear sir, you have my absolute guarantee on that." "How many've you got?" "Ah, preparing to stock up in quantity! A most wise move, my good sir; your intelligence shines like a beacon for all the world to see! Yes, I guarantee that once you've tasted the excellence of this fine vintage, you'll be--" The little gnome didn't let him finish. "I need two vials," he said. "Two it is, my good sir. That'll be, uh, let's see--" "That'll be 1,700 pieces of gold, if your figure of 850 apiece is accurate, which I highly doubt. Fortunately for you, I don't have time to argue. With the 150 for those three healing potions, that comes to 1,850. I assume you don't mind being paid in gemstones?" "My dear friend," replied the dealer, rubbing his hands in glee, "I would expect no less from such a dignified client as yourself. What, pray tell, is your payment of choice? Rubies? Emeralds? Pearls, perhaps?" The gnome muttered quietly to himself and pulled out a glimmering gemstone of lustrous beauty, shimmering in the sunlight and sending multicolored shafts of light dancing this way and that. "It's a Barlenni diamond," he whispered, as if in awe. "Valued at over 2,000 pieces of gold. Since I'm in such a hurry, you can keep the change for yourself if you hand over the potions at once." "At once!" agreed the dealer, wrapping the two glass potion vials in soft vellum to keep them from breaking. "With utmost haste!" he added, slipping them into a drawstring pouch with the three healing potions the gnome had selected previously. "Taking neither one further jot nor tittle of your most valuable time!" He passed the pouch over to his impatient customer with a flourish and received the glittering gem in return. "You've definitely earned it," the gnome said, grabbing up the pouch and hurrying on his way, not bothering to tell the potion dealer that "Barlenni" was a gnomish word for "false jewel." He figured the dealer would figure it out himself once the hastily-cast illusion expired and the diamond became once again a small lump of coal. After all, anyone trying to overcharge Javorik the Bold, Illusionist Extraordinaire got what he deserved. [/QUOTE]

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