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Post by Ian (Menace) on Apr 2, 2020 13:25:39 GMT
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Post by Ian (Menace) on Apr 28, 2020 9:45:10 GMT
Moving Day
Spring has arrived, the balmy breeze carrying pollen and the promise of summer’s love. In Port Ffirst, windows and doors are cast open to banish the remnant fug of winter, and welcome in a new beginning. In Old Town’s alleys, a new beginning is under way as well: the Emporium of Pre-Loved Wonders is getting an extension.
Mace stands in the warehouse, adjacent to the pawnshop proper, and directs his henchmen, joined by Carl and Ishmael. The place is as derelict as the small shop was when he first got it from the Countess, but no matter; his men are busying themselves patching holes in the roof, scrubbing off the mold, and clearing out the detritus that the previous occupant had left behind. Carl the apprentice directs a few of the older urchins among the workers, earning a few coppers, and a chance to audition for a permanent job.
Ishmael whistles. “Gotta give it to you boss, I wasn't sure about this place when you set up shop here last year. But you certainly made something of it.”
Mace smiles. “Why, thank you my friend. I told you this would be the beginning of something wonderful. And look at us now: business is good, and we are expanding. Soon we will have cargo coming in from all over, and at all times of the day. Or night. I will need you and your men to work in shifts to make that work.”
Ishmael nods, though the doubt doesnt leave his face.
“You want to ask me something?” Mace offers.
“Well…”, Ishmael begins, “...Im still not sure on what we are doing here. I thought this was a pawnshop, with some small business on the side, as it were. Why do we need a warehouse? I mean”, he fumbles for words, “I know the “side business” is profitable. Fencing a few trinkets here and there. But… a whole warehouse? Are you making a play for the whole fencing market?”
Mace smiles, and pats him on the back. “Ishmael, you are a man of small vision. What is a pawnshop, if not a place where desperate people meet, to lessen their plight? Those desperate for cash, coming to sell their heirlooms… and those desperate to fulfill a want, not easily satisfied elsewhere? I bring those poor, suffering souls together and make them whole. Sometimes, that may involve something as small as magic ring, sold by a passing adventurer. Sometimes, it may involve a shipment of exotic wares from the Underdark. All desires a valid to a man with a full purse, are they not? So yes, maybe I am a fence. But I am foremost a purveyor of desire and discretion. This is why I don't ask too many questions of my clients.”
Mace pauses, his black eyes growing hard, and his voice takes on an edge of steel.
“And neither should you.”
He turns, and something seems to catch his interest in the reflection of a dirty window, before he pivots again, that wolfish smile spreading on his face once more.
“But let it not be said that I don't value your contribution Ishmael. You are a good foreman, and have done good work for me, and so have your men. So take this pouch as a bonus for you all, and think on who would be best suited to work in the warehouse. There will be no customers coming back here, the business will still be conducted in the shop room, as ever. Don't let anyone in the back, unless accompanied by myself or Carl. And if you do find anyone back here who doesn't belong… have Bald Joe break some fingers, bust some kneecaps. Best not to mess around.”
Mace hands Ishmael a pouch, the sweet sound of heavy coins clinking from inside, and the former bandit smiles and nods eagerly, message received.
“Now then”, Mace says turing to survey his new warehouse, “where were we? Maybe break through the wall there, install a door, to connect it to the shop. There is a lot left to do, and daylight is wasting away.” His eyes take on that faraway look, seeing things that no one else yet does.
“There is still so much left to do.”
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Post by Ian (Menace) on May 27, 2020 10:37:29 GMT
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Post by Ian (Menace) on Jul 17, 2020 10:10:58 GMT
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Post by Pieni on Jul 17, 2020 15:39:42 GMT
Scroll of Disguise Self - Purchase
A masculine, lanky figure stumbles into the emporium. Their unfitting waistcoat and trousers are somehow mismatching shades of black, the latter of which is held up by both a belt and suspenders. The shirt underneath is not fully buttoned, and their red hair is half-heartedly slicked back. Their pale eyes and cheekbones are sharp, and they have pointed sideburns and a goatee to rival a certain Tiefling, as well as Devilish wings and pointed ears, their only inhuman features.
Steadying themself on the wall, they browse the Emporium until they find what they want, and on the way to approach Mace at the counter, they trip and the Scroll of Disguise Self flies halfway across the room.
"I would like to purchase that scroll," comes their voice, flat-toned and muffled by the floorboards.
Mace cocks his head at the lanky figure on the floor, then picks up the scroll and offers a hand to the clumsy customer.
“Certainly, my friend. I am always happy to welcome a new customer to my humble shop. What price did you have in mind? ...And you are? You seem… familiar…”
"50 gold," the stranger says, batting Mace's hand away and sitting up. "Is the price, I mean. Not my name, which is…" they trail off, then after a long pause, "...Boris. Yes, that's what it is and always has been. Who are you?"
Mace scratches his head. Something about that guy is off…
"Right. Boris. Interesting, I could have sworn we know each other… Well, my name is Mace, and 50gp seems a little low for such a very useful scroll. Are you sure you can't do 60gp? It's a fair price."
The person shrugs. "I live here. Maybe you've seen me around. I would do… 55 gold."
The voice of recognition in his head is screaming, but for the love of gold, Mace can't place him.
"You drive a hard bargain, friend Boris, but I fear I have to insist on a little more - would 57gp really bust the bank?"
'Boris' sighs, digging around their messenger bag for their coinpurse. "57 it is." Realising they've yet to get up, they do so, standing uncertainly on their feet so they can hand the coin to Mace.
“Thank you kindly! Always good to make the acquaintance of another happy customer.” The jingle of gold silences all remaining doubts and questions. “Can I wrap this for you?”
Boris stares at Mace. "It's a scroll, it's already wrapped."
Mace nods vigorously, still bathing in the afterglow of a coin purse jingling.
“Of course, of course, the customer is always right. Well, I wish you a good day and come back soon! We have wonderful deals coming in on a regular basis!”
"Right, right," Boris says, as though they've heard it all before. "Farewell, Mena-- Mace."
The almost-slip-up cuts straight through the pleasing sound of coin well earned.
“Wha- how do you know- We have met before, haven't we?!” The voice screaming in his head finally breaks through.
“Bones, is that you?!?”
Bones backs away unsteadily. "Never heard of them. I'll be taking the scroll now. Thank you."
“What’s going on here! Why the charade?”
"What's with the yelling?" Bones growls.
“What's with the disguise?” Mace parries.
"What's with -- you -- your--" in the midst coming up with something witty and scathing, Bones stumbles backwards once again and remains standing only because his back slams into the wall. "Ow. Not used to these legs. Ugh, fine, it's me."
“What’s going on my friend? Why did you feel the need to disguise yourself? ...to buy another disguise scroll?”
Bones shakes his head. "It's not an illusion like that scroll does. I'm physically… Different. But it didn't change my clothes, just my form, so I had to go out and buy some. But I didn't really know… I've never really had to wear clothes before. It's weird."
Bones tugs at his already loose collar, looking away from Mace. "I just wanted to see what it was like. To be human-ish. Or normal. Or not like me. I don't know."
Mace thinks on this, and nods. “I can understand that. It is tempting to see what might be, if circumstances were different. Not to worry my friend, no harm done; and the trick worked rather well!” he laughs, “took me a while to see through it! Well done, I say.”
"I'm surprised it took you that long. I'm a bad actor. You still need to give me those lessons. Can I have the scroll now, please?"
“I think you have taken the first lesson to heart already - the eyes see what they want to see; and mine wanted to see the gold.” Mace chuckles, as he hands over the scroll. “How about we pick this up again at the Flourished Hook? I am sure there is more fun to be had with your disguise!”
Bones slips the scroll into his bag and then stands up straight, stretching his bruised body. "Sure -- if I can get there."
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Post by Ian (Menace) on Aug 29, 2020 14:59:33 GMT
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Post by Alenea Hanali on Oct 25, 2020 12:41:54 GMT
After a week of knocking on the door to the Emporium every day to see if Mace was back in Alenea finally sees him behind the counter and heads inside and asks him if he's interested in one of the few remaining relics of the Rift War that hasn't yet entered a private collection.
With Mace expressing interest Alenea unhooks an ornate scrollcase from her belt and places it carefully on the counter. She flips the clasp holding it closed and unfurls the scroll across the counter. "This is a scroll of Major Image. But not a normal one," She points out a few intricate flourishes on the scroll and some pretty esoteric details, "See these? They makes the illusion permanent!"
"A few of us recovered this from a group of Imps left over from the war that were sent to raid Daring."
Mace takes a close look and nods, but smiles sadly. "A very nice find indeed. However, there is only a very limited market for curiousos like this one."
He waves absentmindedly toward a display cabinet with a number of magical scrolls propped up.
"Valuable as they may be, I have found they are hard to sell, limiting their monetary value..." He looks up and gives the elf a wink. "...but I wouldn't let you leave here empty handed. Uncle Mace has a soft spot for enterprising adventurers. I'll give you 500gp for it."
Alenea rerolls the scroll up and carefully closes the case, "My assumption was that someone as enterprising as yourself would find be able to find a use for a permanent illusion outside of mere resale. Surely a permanent advertisement for your services in the skies above Port Ffirst is worth more than just 500 gold pieces."
"Ah, you flatter me, my friend. Alas, I am running a business and have to take pecuniarities into account. What price did you have in mind?"
She frowns, "Nine hundred and fifty gold. And that's a large discount for such a rare find." She says, folding her arms.
Mace whistles. "That's a king's ransom. But Im not unreasonable. 700 gold pieces. And at that price Im really cutting my own throat."
Pausing for a second Alenea considers her alternative options and that this puts her well into the range of being able to get started on her new venture. She holds out a hand to shake, "Deal."
Mace grabs it eagerly. "I knew we would come to an agreement. I like you. Be sure to come back to see me. I always have special discounts for returning customers..."
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Post by Ian (Menace) on Nov 4, 2020 15:49:45 GMT
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Post by Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed on Nov 5, 2020 11:30:06 GMT
It is midmorning, the fog thick in Port Ffirst, despite how long the sun has been up. Mace receives a message as he opens the door to his shop.
"Good morning Mace! I hear you've got a Modify Memory scroll. If I send you money, would you mail it to me?"
Mace looks around confused, then connects the dots and steadies himself.
"Sheryl, is that you? Where are you calling from? ...And how is the weather there?" He feels the connection drop. There's a slight pause as Sheryl casts sending to him again.
"Exceedingly foggy and damp. I'm enjoying a lovely mug of spiced feywine with breakfast to banish the Fading blues."
"I do have the scroll you ask for," Mace says, his salesman voice taking over, "and I could have it mailed to you with Ffirst Mail. How will you pay for it?" He goes to say more but feels the spell end, cutting off his flow.
Once again, he feels Sheryl's voice in his head, and he can tell her words spoken around a slight smile.
"I'll get Wendy deliver the gold to you directly, within a day. Have the scroll sent to me at the Four Fair Winds."
"It is a rare and pricy item," Mace cautions, continuing the sale. "For you my friend, I ask for no more than 600 gold pieces, and that's a heavy discount!"
This time, he hears the smile has turned into a chuckle as Sheryl speaks.
"Done. It has been a pleasure doing business with you, dear friend Mace." There's a slight companionable teasing undertone as she says the last part.
Mace affirms, then breaks the connection. While he carefully wraps up the scroll and secures it for transport, he wonders whether to place protective wards around the pawnshop, or whether this "mail order" business may have a future after all...
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Cadfan
Junior Member
Posts: 61
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Post by Cadfan on Jan 9, 2021 19:28:35 GMT
An elderly man walks through the front door and introduces himself as 'Comrade Butter.' He points to the Feywild Torpor and pulls free a Sabre of Accuracy. "How about this for that, lad?"
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Post by Ian (Menace) on Jan 9, 2021 20:15:03 GMT
Mace squints, then shrugs.
"Welcome! What an interesting sabre you have there. The Feywild Torpor is a most rare poison though. Care to up your offer, my friend?"
"How about just the sabre, sonny."
"Maybe just a little something, to show you are a serious buyer. A rare poison like this is precious and I cant let it fall in the wrong hands."
"Well I could offer you a painting taken from the King of Bears from deep in the Feywild, or even a potion that is rumored to cure even the greatest of hangovers - On top of the sabre of course."
"Ha! A hangover cure. That sounds excellent. I'll take it!"
"Sounds good to me young lad."
"Excellent. Good to do business with you, Comrade Butters. I hope to see you again soon, when I have new inventory!"
"Good on you, child. You'll always have a friend in Comrade Butters." He shouts as he leaves the shop.
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Post by Ian (Menace) on Apr 8, 2021 21:27:24 GMT
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Post by Tayz Dale on Jan 8, 2022 16:39:12 GMT
Ivan enters the store and asks for some assistance. He is looking for a nice new hand-ware that will turn heads with his new accolades (kicking ass and taking names).
He points at these braces that give him the vibe that he will look even more 'hulkish when he rages'.
I would like to purchase
Bracers of Intimidation - 700 GP
He is interested in the backstory of the bracers.
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Post by Ian (Menace) on Jan 8, 2022 17:50:42 GMT
"Ah, Ivan! So good to see you again. And what a fine piece you have there, you clearly are a highly perceptive person, this is one of my most valuable treasures!"
Mace eagerly shows Ivan the brutal looking bracers.
"Why don't we discuss it over here? More comfortable. Can I offer you tea? Ale, perhaps? Or something stronger?"
(Will DM you)
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Post by Tayz Dale on Jan 8, 2022 18:24:51 GMT
'Thank you, I'll take the tea.'
'Let's talk business!'
We some back and forth we come to an agreement of swapping the Braces with a Dancing Rapier.
Ivan looks forward to future sales!
Have a great day!
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