The Next Day - Distributing the Loot!
Sir Aberlayne, Narthian and Thunder, Dellas, and Haazheel head out to Market Street, lugging their items for sale. About half the businesses are already open, and more are just setting out their shingles. The scent of fresh-baked bread permeates the street from Gebbin's Bakery, and another whiff of fresh fruit comes from someone pushing a cart full of baskets of pears nearby. Sir Aberlayne looks around, waving at the occasional person that she seems to know, before finally waving at a storefront painted in bright blue and gold, its sign showing the name, "Feld's Antiquities," along with a pair of spectacles, an urn, and a coin. The front window is stuffed with what looks like a carved wooden helm sized for a giant, several candelabras made from choker hands, and a carved wooden screen made from some blue wood and pink ivory.
Inside it is equally crammed, looking in many ways like a more crowded version of the Adventurer's Guildhall, except that things are generally of finer materials, are not in need of repair, and bear hefty price tags. Some things are behind locked, glass-fronted cabinets, and a few of the cabinets are behind a large counter. Some subtle etching on the glass of those cabinets makes Haazheel and Dellas think that opening them would likely trigger a spell. Likely an alarm spell, but it could be something more dangerous.
Behind the counter is an old gnome man, wearing golden spectacles upon his prominent nose, wearing a soft pink leather cap and a darker pink vest embroidered with magical beasts over a fine linen shirt and trousers of dark blue. He looks up from a large tome he was examining, and waves them forward to place their items on the counter. Not surprisingly, there are steps there for people with shorter legs than humans.
"A bargain, then?" he asks.
"A bargain, Master Feld," she says. "From a kobold's treasure trove, unseen by civilized eyes, carefully prepared for your perusal..." Sir Aberlayne tells no untruths as she describes and shows off the folk art bracelets, the colorful stones, the embroidered silver cloth, the cloth of gold crown, and the brass chest, but she does make them sound very special indeed.
Master Feld nods and examines each thing carefully, sometimes pulling out a magnifying glass, angling a mirror to bring in daylight for clearer sight, a couple of times consulting a book or scroll as he compares details to notes.
"I believe I could offer... thirty-five hundred gold for this mixed lot," he says finally, nodding.
Sir Aberlayne smiles, but scoffs. "Master Feld, I did not fall off the hay wagon yesterday. The crown has great history behind it, the chest is highly unusual. Six thousand."
The two continue to haggle for some time, Master Feld poo-pooing the significance of the finds, Sir Aberlayne extolling their virtue, Master Feld claiming his profit margins would be nothing, for their was the transport to his markets in Albon to think of, Sir Aberlayne saying that he wouldn't let four adventurers starve, would he? After a great deal of posturing and whinging, praise and cajolery, borderline insults and little side comments, the two finally shake their hands, satisfied.
"Four thousand, nine hundred ninety and not a copper more," Feld says firmly as Sir Aberlayne nods. He snaps his fingers, and a young human and a middle-aged half-elf come out to whisk the items away to the back room. "Now, shall I sent the amount to the Moneychanger's Guild, or are you going to be buying things in town and need the gold outright?"
Sir Aberlayne looks at the others, raising an eyebrow for their input.
Amongst the other things on the shelves are a lovely brass vase, inlaid with mahogany wood, a purple fur cloak with marble clasps, an ornamental limestone jewelry box set with an obsidian piece, an engraved pewter ring inlaid with bone, a strange blue silk hat that resembles a boar, a beautiful red silk cloak with silver clasps, a silver-framed painting of a knight in brilliant gold armor.
On the floor, you spy a beetle about the size and hue of a gold piece scuttle across from one side of the aisle to another, followed by at least five of its friends. They're quickly followed by a calico cat.
OOC: If there's anything you're looking for on the shelves, or any questions you want to ask, please do.
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Lantamori heads down to Ironheart's Forge in the market square, already active and smoking, the sound of clanging metal ringing out clearly in the morning air. In a town like this, with lots of former soldiers and a heavy adventurer presence, a good blacksmith is worth their weight in diamonds, and Master Ironheart is not one to rest of his laurels. A tall and strong human man, he wears his beard in a braided dwarven fashion. A scorched leather apron covers most of his clothes, and his arms are bare, sheened with sweat as he bangs away on what looks like an axe blade. Apprentices are on either side of him, hammering away at their own commissions, or pumping the bellows, shoveling in coal, or other tasks, and do not look up when Lantamori enters.
Master Ironheart eventually quenches the blade he was working on, and turns to Lantamori, sizing up the small elf woman in a way that makes you think he's already determining what size of armor you'd need, what length of sword you'd want.
"What brings you here today?" he asks, his voice a little rough with all the smoke he must have breathed in over the years.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:37, Tue 30 May 2017.