Mercantile Arrangements
Tenth Day of the Fourth Month 292 AC
It is not without some hesitation that you wave Glyra on her way... but it would be rather hypocritical of you to trust her less now that she has grown to posses a measure of compassion in her own alien way. So it is with only Tyene and the horned giant Argo at your side that you step out into the bustling heart of Western Volantis. The crowds part like the tides before your passing... save for the odd adventurous child rushing in for a closer look. One boy of nine or thereabouts actually goes so far as to run up and tap your fearsome guard on the back of the knee before vanishing into the crowds. A fleeting expression you cannot decipher flashes across the giant's features.
The only thing that gives you more than a moment's pause is a quarrelsome and officious minor noble who seemed to be picking a fight for the benefit of the much younger lady on his arm. It does not end well for him... or perhaps it does. He is after all still
alive when you leave him, if not looking very steady on his feet.
Finally you reach the antiquarian Zherys mentioned to you in passing during your discussions of the Freehold and its legacy. the storefront is spelled out in large brass lettering, that look almost gold in the afternoon sunlight:
The Stone Endures. Beside you Tyene snorts delicately and sarcastically quotes the verse the name no doubt references: one of the most ubiquitous pieces of post Doom Valyrian poetry:
The bitter water passes through the east, but in the west the stone endures.
Pandering at its worst, all the more so as you doubt the Old Blood themselves would ever darken the door of a mere shop, sending instead their servants who would have little care for maudlin verse.
Inside it is dusty and a dark as headless statues, cracked urns and old armor stands crowd around the windows. You have to admit that if the effect was intentional it is well crafted. On a whim you decide to call the second sight, but you see no magic beyond that which you bring with you.
At your request the assistant runs to find the proprietor, though whether from your passing imitation of a high Volantine noble's bearing or Argo's fearsome mien you cannot guess.
"How may I serve Kaelos," the merchant, a elderly man with gold spectacles perched on the tip of his long thin nose, asks sounding to your ear (used to Braavosi subtlety and the rough tongues of seamen) absurdly servile.
The man's eyes widen at the sight of the the sight of the gold and ivory Cyvasse game and the other small things you brought as samples. When you hand him the inventory list complied as best they could by some of Alinor's clerks the man looks torn between wonder and struggling to think of some way to show doubt that would not be constructed as insulting. In the end you manage to convince him that you do indeed posses all that is on the list and that you want to sell all of it for a good price but also swiftly. The magical powders and "stone" he looks at in askance.
How do you intend to sell the treasures?
[] Organize a public auction as Viserys Targaryen at once (fast payoff, best prices, major loss of reputation with the Old Blood, possibly beyond)
[] Have the antiquarian organize the auction through his contacts, but be present at the auction to help things along unofficially (slower payoff, good prices, middling loss of face with the Old Blood)
[] Have the antiquarian deal with the matter (slower payoff middling prices pay modest commission, minor loss of face with the Old Blood)
[] Write in
OOC: Next up recovering Seeker.