Mercantile Miscreance - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: Mercantile Miscreance (/showthread.php?tid=18382) |
- Sedge Arum - 06-11-2011 Ah, to hear the familiar rolling and crunching of spoked wheels through stone-speckled soil and the age-cracked asphalt; to smell the fetid air from dusty human tomb-towers and the signature scents of a dozen new packs and new peoples...ah, what a rush to come into each new place and meet each new face...but that wasn't quite right, was it? "It's been years, hasn't it?" the coyote said wistfully to himself as he held the reigns of his cart lightly in hand and his mule, Nettle, pulled it along at a steady pace. Gear was stacked high on the wooden wagon, goods from all over the world, or so he'd heard...in the merchant trade, it was anyone's guess where the embellishing stopped and the truth began. Or was it vice versa? Sometimes he had trouble deciding which one was more important: facts were such flexible things when it came right down to it, hardly worth bothering with beyond what they meant to a particular person in a particular place at a particular time of sale. No, facts were very malleable, in the end, subject only to the rigidity of the buyer's knowledge and the salesman's daring. That was the way he preferred truths to be. Fluid, shifting and adapting to the moment as any self-respecting coyote had need to do to make it in this dog-eat-dog world. It had been years since he'd been here to hock his wares. Years since Sedge had tried a sales-pitch to the primitive wolves of the west...or the coyotes there for that matter. Or the dogs, really, or any other...yes, well, he hadn't done business here in a long time, was the fact of it. He looked back at his cargo and patted the tarp cast over it with the affection only merchants can have for property. Smiling contently as he heard Nettle snort at the meager grasses along the ruined roads, he pricked his ears suddenly. He detected the slightest of wobbles in his wagon's left wheel. Mere moments later, the wagon collapsed beneath him. - Barrett - 06-12-2011 [html] <style type="text/css"> .barrett-snail b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; font-family:georgia,serif; font-size:11px;} .barrett-snail p {text-indent:25px; padding:0px 0px; margin:0px;} .barrett-snail {margin:0 auto; width:500px; background-color:#; background-image:url(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l53 ... ail-xt.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:0px solid #000000; padding: 130px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; text-align:justify;} .barrett-snail-inner {width:350px; border:none; margin:0 auto 0px auto;} .barrett-snail-wc {border-top:1px dotted #000000;line-height:10px;font-size:10px;font-family:'lucida console',sans-serf;text-align:right;} </style>[/html] - Sedge Arum - 06-12-2011 The indignity of it. That such an upstanding man as himself should be made to suffer at the hands of a common axle. A wolf came in at such a pace that he almost feared it for a brigand, but when he saw the awe in the yearling's eyes, he that he was safe. Even the coarsest barbarians could be swayed by a love of gold, of wealth, of wonder...and such wonder could be found on his cart, surely! Rising to his feet, the merchant wiped the dust from his fine garments, hands brushing the debris away from his now dirtied quilts which had spared him only the shame of soiled fur along his ample gut. Had he been swindled in his purchase of the cart? It had been a sly jackal that had sold it to him, most truly but...no, his eye was better than that, his nose for truths limiting even the second greatest of merchants--for surely he would never have to make a sale to himself--to the barest sliver of freedom in their embellishment. No, the cart had been fine. It was these broken roads and craggy ground which had done in his fine-timbered wagon. And poor Nettle to drag it across...his hooves were most certainly strong to have withstood where quality lumber could not: a masterful purchase of the past, come back now to benefit him! Certainly...for he would now need to carry his wares by mule alone, and abandon the shambles of his cart where they fell. There was still time to sell to this onlooker before that was common knowledge, though. "Why, it takes more than a mere spill to discomfit the famous and incomparable Sedge Arum, master merchant, head haggler of a hundred hubs and premiere peddler of the ocean ports! I am at your service, good sir, and would ask how I could be of service?" He righted himself and put on his most endearing smile, holding his arms out in welcome to his newest (and so far only) customer. Why, it had been so long since he'd had the pleasure of guiding the tribal peoples of the west of the fine art of haggling, he could hardly remember why he had gone away for so long! There might have been some affair with a wolf, large and angry at the evident decrease in value of some items which Sedge had convinced him to buy, but that was all so long ago...hardly worth remembering, provided he didn't smell anyone here who matched the scent. He was confident that he would not. "I am an expert negotiator, and through sheer genius of mercantile prowess I have attained a hundred treasures arrayed right here before you. Dried herb of the Madagascan Shore, fine South African drought, chilled ice-wine of the European northlands, sculptures wrought of the finest marble and keenest skill, almost all of which are sure to be in pristine condition even after such a terrific collapse!" He licked his lips and strode over to the tarp, drawing it off and away to reveal the now off-kilter contents within. Now unveiled, a dozen figurines secured in wooden boxes filled with hey (almost all remained uncracked) and several jars similarly secured with legendary beasts stared morbidly out at the youth. What was more, other jars still were filled with glowing and chittering creatures, a stack of parchment with pressed exotic plants stayed lay in plain view beside them, bags and satchels and other oddities all packed tightly behind bulged near their tied-off tops with the promise of unseen wonders as the ungainly coyote bent over with unusual grace--born of practice--to gesture at all that he possessed. "All this, and one broken wagon, I have to offer. And to you, for your concern, reduced prices! Do you see anything of interest, my friend? Anything at all?" The more this gentle barbarian did not buy, the more net loss the unfortunate merchant would suffer when he had to choose what Nettle would carry. - Barrett - 06-12-2011 [html] <style type="text/css"> .barrett-snail b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; font-family:georgia,serif; font-size:11px;} .barrett-snail p {text-indent:25px; padding:0px 0px; margin:0px;} .barrett-snail {margin:0 auto; width:500px; background-color:#; background-image:url(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l53 ... ail-xt.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:0px solid #000000; padding: 130px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; text-align:justify;} .barrett-snail-inner {width:350px; border:none; margin:0 auto 0px auto;} .barrett-snail-wc {border-top:1px dotted #000000;line-height:10px;font-size:10px;font-family:'lucida console',sans-serf;text-align:right;} </style>[/html] - Sedge Arum - 06-12-2011 Sedge watched the boy intently as he was drawn in to all of his wares, perusing each one with youthfully exuberant curiosity and fascination, both perfectly fitting in one so young. The young were always the easiest to sell to, though the problem of wealth to pay often became an issue with those fresh out of puphood. Still, what was that he'd said? Fix the wagon? Why! That would be stupendous, marvelous, miraculous, the good fortune to crown all good fortunes: he would not need to sacrifice his wares at all if he were able to repair his wagon. Nettle snorted, anxious at being harnessed to the broken-down cart; his master only scowled, but his severity was gone by the next time his mark...no, guest...turned to face him. "A service in payment for a treasure? Why of course...what else do two people trade in but services, good sir? You the service of keen carpentry and mine the fervent finding of fortunes. What you have there, my friend, is the greatest mystery of Singapore, and of all the mysteries of Singapore that's saying quite a lot!...the fabled glow-worm of the south-east, the flashing fodder for the fire-eating birds of the far orient, the only glowing snails to exist on the entirety of the earth, and if I'm lying strike me dead: you have there in your hand a jar of Dyakia striata. An enigmatic name for an enigmatic creature, given in the language of power in the days of human oppression before our kind inherited the world. You'll not find anything like them on this side of the world, my friend, and some of these can be yours for nothing more than your aid in fixing this wagon." He saw the boy's fascination...he knew he hardly had to try to sell the things at this point. Squinting his eyes shrewdly as he rubbed his chin, the thought came to him to improve the deal. A real boon in this...doesn't pay to be cheap and queer the deal. "For your work, my good man, five of my precious Dyakia, sure to make for a breeding population of your very own! And those seeds: I see you're a wolf who knows their worth...half the jar, in gratitude if my wagon is moving again when you're finished. What do you say?" He was nervous. If the boy understood that he would need to leave half of his wares here simply by the act of withholding assistance, he might well get what he wanted for free. His smile remained though: hopeful and genuine after years of deceit in the name of business. If the boy didn't put it together, he certainly wasn't going to tell him. - Barrett - 06-13-2011 [html] <style type="text/css"> .barrett-snail b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; font-family:georgia,serif; font-size:11px;} .barrett-snail p {text-indent:25px; padding:0px 0px; margin:0px;} .barrett-snail {margin:0 auto; width:500px; background-color:#; background-image:url(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l53 ... ail-xt.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:0px solid #000000; padding: 130px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; text-align:justify;} .barrett-snail-inner {width:350px; border:none; margin:0 auto 0px auto;} .barrett-snail-wc {border-top:1px dotted #000000;line-height:10px;font-size:10px;font-family:'lucida console',sans-serf;text-align:right;} </style>[/html] - Sedge Arum - 06-13-2011 "Ah, Nettle, do you hear that? You're a horse today!" He took the boy's hand without explanation, flashing the grin which had convinced hundreds before that they had not been swindled, though the boy would get what we wanted and--in the end--how could one be swindled if they got what they wanted out of the transaction? Some would argue that there was a line between a fair deal and a scam, but Sedge knew that that fact--as well as all others--was negotiable. The coyote merchant positioned the heavy wheel on top of his least fragile goods, heedless of the additional weight supported by the young wolf's frame. Amazing, what these brutes could lift...best to put it to use for optimal traveling speed. Bright and cheery, Sedge took Nettle's reins and led the beast as the boy directed, for the ten minute trip to the garage (their journey was somewhat longer, carrying the heavy wooden cart was a burden even for a spry young wolf lad). There he stretched, driving his hands into the small of his back until he heard a satisfying pop, and sighed with relief as the wolf put his side of the wagon down as gently as a tired young adult could after grueling minutes of carrying the load. The coyote winked in friendly manner and lifted the seeds and snails out of the cart, separating them from the rest of loot and stashing them in his coat, counting carefully just which snails he would part with before snapping his jaws shut and shaking his head sagely. Best to let the boy pick, lest he feel less generous of his handiwork. Instead, Sedge turned his gaze to the jar of poppy seeds and began to measure out exactly how much half the jaw really was with his eyes. If he tilted it just so...yes, he could part with only three-sevenths and call it half. After all, once it was out, there would be no direct measure. Yes, he would keep this tilted for a time. Nodding happily, he spread his arms at the cart and stood back. "I look forward to a display of your skill, Master Barret. Carpenters of my land guard their secrets jealously. If it is your wish, I can turn away, but it would have been one of the very first times to observe for me." He tilted his head as he smiled, cajoling the young wolf to let him watch as the silver and gold jangled ever so slightly around his neck. Best to ensure that the new axle wasn't rigged to break...he had come from many lands as far as he was concerned, and few of them had carpenters who hid their trade. He trusted his discerning eyes to note any sort of deception, in case there was some sort of tell he had missed. - Barrett - 06-13-2011 [html] <style type="text/css"> .barrett-snail b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; font-family:georgia,serif; font-size:11px;} .barrett-snail p {text-indent:25px; padding:0px 0px; margin:0px;} .barrett-snail {margin:0 auto; width:500px; background-color:#; background-image:url(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l53 ... ail-xt.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:0px solid #000000; padding: 130px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; text-align:justify;} .barrett-snail-inner {width:350px; border:none; margin:0 auto 0px auto;} .barrett-snail-wc {border-top:1px dotted #000000;line-height:10px;font-size:10px;font-family:'lucida console',sans-serf;text-align:right;} </style>[/html] - Sedge Arum - 06-14-2011 Sedge watched the entire process closely. The use of iron, pipes, the salvaging of a perfectly--well, he didn't actually know anything about architecture, so he was clueless as to how stable or usable the neighboring structure had been which Barrett had apparently looted--anyway, the merchant didn't understand everything that was going on, only that this young wolf seemed better versed in the creation of axles than the jackal or whoever had actually constructed this wagon had been. Sedge smirked victoriously as he watched as the carpenter improved on his previous purchase, and for only a pittance of his wares. Truly, today was a fortuitous day. But what was to be expected of a master of making his own good fortune? When Barrett had finished, and turned toward back his way, Sedge applauded aristocratically, one gaudy ring flashing in the sunlight as he laughed magnanimously at the sight of the repairs rendered. From somewhere within his quilts he produced a small satchel and scoop, with which he quickly and precisely measured out exactly one half of the poppy-seeds, somehow managing to work all three with just his two hands, feigning difficulty with the tools which perforce required that he hold the seed jar at a tilt--just so that four-sevenths appeared as only half a jar--and placed the seeds in the satchel with such fluidity of motion that the original jar lid was clamped down and stowed away within a single heartbeat, and the satchel held out to the expectant carpenter. "For services dutifully and masterfully performed, Master Barrett. And! Lest I forget, not four but five of my legendary Dyakia, entrusted to your keeping from here on until such time as you should pass them onto another." He took a step closer, making as if to study his workmanship, but even his own discerning eye could see no flaw with the work, nor truly knew what to look for in scrutinizing the newly positioned axle. Nodding his satisfaction (for he had even divulged his relative inexperience with wood-working), he smiled widely, and patted Nettle's mane, before hitching him up again and readying to be off. "By the way, sir, you wouldn't happen to know of any place nearby where a man with my wares could find business, do you? A population center, perhaps? A packland or village anywhere nearby who might benefit through the purchase of my treasures from beyond the sea?" It couldn't hurt to ask for directions while he was interacting with one of the locals. - Barrett - 06-15-2011 [html] <style type="text/css"> .barrett-snail2 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; font-family:verdana,sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .barrett-snail2 p {text-indent:30px; padding:0px 0px; margin:0px;} .barrett-snail2 {margin:0 auto; width:500px; background-color:#; background-image:url(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l53 ... ail2ct.png),url(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l53 ... ail2cb.png); background-position:top center, bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat, no-repeat; border:none; padding: 65px 0px 15px 0px; font-family: 'palatino linotype',palatino,serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; text-align:justify;} .barrett-snail2-inner {width:370px; border:none; margin:0 auto 0px auto;} .barrett-snail2-wc {text-indent:100px; font-weight:bold; line-height:10px;font-size:10px;font-family:'lucida console',sans-serf;text-align:left;} </style>[/html] |