If you could open your own Bazzar Store...

Let us assume for a moment that, though a horribly expensive Association to do with Spire Emporiums At The Bazzar, trade between players became available, and you could run a store of items and sell whatever you wish at a price you wish long as you have the item in question. What would you sell? What would you set your price as? Would you only allow customers of a certain type or affiliation? Would your shop be a background for illicit activities? Would you openly defy The Masters and sell contrabrand?

Discuss.

I wouldn’t mind opening up a store for huntsmen, good trekking gear and weapons that can put down most beasties. Might even do a side in naval equipment, especially large harpoon guns for the discerning ship captain headed for Zee. I might also want to sell to only licensed hunters, constables and ship captains - can’t have the common ruffian using my elephant guns for typical necessities, don’t you think?

As for illicit activities, well, perish the thought! Oh, you were sent by him for that reason? Well… I do have a special line of weaponry imported from the Iron Republic at no small expense. Don’t worry, I did not have to spend any souls to get them. But let us keep this between us, shall we?

For sale among players, I suppose it would depend on whether I could make or customize the gear myself. The only thing I could think of offering that I could get in the base game that is not already on the Bazaar are research notes from my travels at Zee (especially those about wildlife).


edited by Owen Wulf on 2/10/2015

I’d finally corner the market on evil snail things that cure gout.
edited by Nocculi on 2/11/2015

[quote=Nocculi]I’d finally corner the market on evil snail things that cure gout.
edited by Nocculi on 2/11/2015[/quote]

Could I put in an order? Evil Snail Things can be boiled for excellent dyes, just what I need to color my hunting coats! Now if only I can find someone in Spite willing to boil the little buggers for a couple days…

Zeel would probably own a shop of curios, strange items that serve as items with great boons and secret costs, only discovered once they’re used. The glass eye that opens your mind to new concepts, but drains your blood.

Jass on the other hand, would likely own a dressmaker’s shop. Something classed to the most elite of all people, made of the rarest materials. And if not all of them happen to be legitimately acquired…that’s not such a worry.

Definitely a second-hand book store. Selling copies of my own rather celebrated short stories and poetry, & sheet music for some of my courtly compositions. Although, copies of that opera come wrapped in rather severe brown paper, are available only after submission to a careful, lengthy vetting process, and absolutely did not come from my store. And none of those seditious screeds, either! I happen to enjoy some rather close connections with the Masters, & I’ll not jeopardize that for anyone regardless of how pretentiously they associate themselves with the nomenclature of the lunar months!

i’ll probably sell off lower-end gear and stuff i could easily get to newer players at a &quotcut me own throat&quot price. maybe some hyenas, weasels, armored seals, and such.
edited by rebelanarch-82 on 2/16/2015

I’d sell only things that cause fundamental and irreversible madness. Articles of clothing that murmur to you when you are half-asleep, weapons and tools that require a sacrifice of blood and of sanity. Daggers that you will inevitably turn upon yourself, just to silence its whispers. Idols of lost gods, stone eyes that follow you, before closing abruptly, while its granite smile cracks and widens. Objects that disappear, but then resurface in your nightmares. Works of art that twist the mind to look at, impossible angles and fractured lines. Miles of wares, engraved with the most potent Correspondence sigils, hot to the touch. I would only stock the most malicious truths, the most mind-shattering revelations. Passerby would stop and stare at the goods in my front window until their noses began to bleed and their eyes were dark and hollow. My staff would be entirely custom-made clay men, sculpted without eyes, so as not to be rendered useless by the sight of some of the wares. Blindfolds and earplugs, for what little good they would do, would be available upon request, and fainting couches would be conveniently located throughout the store. Customers would leave, harrowed and empty inside, clutching their concealed goods with white fingers, stumbling drunkenly down the streets as their hair rapidly began to grey.

What you may call a gibbering madman, weeping and tearing at his clothing, calling out half-remembered chants and hymns from a forgotten world in some forgotten time, staring at the roof of the Neath, as if he could somehow see the stars so far above…

That’s what I call a satisfied customer.

Spore-Toffee? Bah! Hambug! We only sell Blemmigan-Toffee here. And the best Sherbet, flavoured by Prisoner’s Honey and Coffee.

Candles.