Could have fooled me...

[Molotov]

“Do you understand now, this is the kind of thing that slows us down…”

Molotov turned around. He had no idea who said that. However, it didn’t matter much. He was at the bazaar to shop, not to listen to idle conversation. However, it seemed that this day in the bazaar provided a great deal of it. Molotov shook his head. He didn’t really understand what everyone was talking about, or why the town was so particularly loquacious.

It was normal for the mutant to experience a couple comments about his hair and other flamboyant aspects of his attire. However, never in the past had so many people been talking about him. Perhaps it was because his legend had grown during his disappearance. As a noted Coronian criminal that was not beyond the range of possibility. Perhaps it was his foray into the Citadel that had got people talking, though Molotov suspected that it might be something much worse.

“Mara Jade…” he realized. The mutant didn’t know how long he was going to have to wait to fight her, but he knew that he was going to have to be prepared. That was why he’d come to the bazaar, to purchase the things he’d need when he got into a feud against her. There were a few things he had developed in Shanleh that would be particularly dangerous in Mara Jade’s hands, and Molotov knew he was going to have to assume the worst about her developments.

It would be a time to say goodbye to important playthings, no matter how much he loved them. The tungsten rod that Molotov often carried with him would be a perfect example of that. It was a convenient weapon, but Molotov didn’t know if it would fit in with his current needs.

However, first things had to come first. Before Molotov knew what he was going to sell, he was going to have to find out how expensive the things were that he wanted to buy.

In all seriousness, Molotov approached a shopkeeper at one of the largest weapons emporiums at the Bazaar. What it lacked in a more homely touch it made up for in a vast selection.

“I want to know how much shotguns are…” Molotov said. “And also perhaps revolvers.”

[Raelyse]

Dwarves were known for their skills with technology but Fronk Stevestrom was exceptional, even compared to the other talented members of his race. It was here in the Bazaar though, that he was truly recognized for his ability. He worked in the firearms department in one of the largest stores and people came up to him on an almost daily basis, looking each time for advice or to purchase firearms.

His auburn beard covered most of his face and even his lips. He often worked for so long that he forgot to shave. Moving it away from his lips, he smiled to greet his latest customer.

"Shotgun?"

Fronk chuckled.

"You got 30,000 gold pieces?"

From the looks of what he was wearing, Fronk severely doubted that. Few people in Althanas did have that sort of money and those that did tended to spend it on other things or would send someone else to buy things like this.

"Revolvers are a bit cheaper... at 6000."

[Molotov]

Molotov laughed hollowly. He was relatively wealthy, at least by his standards. However, he certainly didn’t have thirty thousand pieces of gold. He doubted that he ever really would, and even wondered as to whether it was humanly possible to collect that much money. As if to buy him a moment of composure, the mutant pulled a cigarette out from his pack and lit it, careful to blow his smoke away from the merchant. If he was going to leave the place with a firearm, it would take some particularly clever negotiation.

“Bloody hell, wouldn’t expect anything to be that kind of expensive,” Molotov finally said. “Guessing you really don’t sell many shotguns here… eh?”

With that, he placed his tungsten rod down upon the counter. “The revolver intrigues me, but I’m a little light. How much credit would you offer for this in some kind of trade?”

(Bought precrash. The only link is my profile)

[Raelyse]

"About Fourteen Hundred..."

The shopkeeper still kept his eyes on the man before him, running them up and down his body, cautious that someone like this probably was more likely to steal than pay.

[Molotov]

Diplomacy that excluded force had never been Molotov’s strong suit. It was unfortunate, because now that was exactly what the mutant needed. He didn’t particularly want to be violent to a strange dwarf, and he knew that the bazaar had enough security that any kind of attempted thievery would not be worth his while.

“Threats do little to lower the prices from these bloodsuckers either,” Molotov figured. “I’ll actually have to persuade him, because he’s not going to be fooled by overinflated mentions of prices or any other fuck thing like that.”

With that, Molotov laid down two thousand pieces of gold on the table. It wasn’t the total sum of his money, but it was enough to suggest that he was here as a credible buyer. He wanted to make sure that the merchant knew that he had no intention of wasting time.

“Is six thousand as much as you really need to charge?” Molotov asked. “I think we might be able to negotiate this a bit more civilly if you could lower the price. That gold I put down, its not the sum of my fortune, but it’s enough to let you know I have come here to shop.”

He also took off a titanium chain mail shirt. Molotov found the metal to be particularly cumbersome, especially as he found himself growing increasingly athletic. Losing it would be no particular loss.

“How about I trade this in with the rod. Think you could give me a little better of a deal on store credit?” Molotov blinked. "I'd like this to end well for both of us..." he added.

It wasn't a threat, but could easily be construed that way. Perfect for the situation.


(the vest is also from the profile).

[Raelyse]

The shopkeeper examined the vest with his scrutinizing eyes, searching for chips from use. He wasn't sure, but there appeared to be nothing serious. Unless this one was a master illusionist (he seriously doubted that), this one could be serviced to an almost first hand like state in less than a day.

That would make it...

"2800... IN CREDIT."

[Molotov]

Molotov smiled. That would be a sufficient credit amount. “Brilliant,” he said with a moderate bit of false politeness. “I believe that we have a very good deal here.” With that, Molotov took his merchandise worth 2800 pieces of gold and pushed it over into the centre of the dwarf’s workbench. “That’s four thousand eight hundred there…” Molotov concluded.

He knew that wouldn’t be a fair price for a six thousand gold piece weapon, but even then, Molotov had just entered into what promised to be very careful negotiations. While he didn’t know much about prices in general, he got the impression that he had already received one important concession. He didn’t want to throw it away while trying to grab another. None the less, Molotov knew that if he wanted to get this gun at a price he could live with, he was going to have to exact one more important concession. The six thousand price was going to have to drop a bit.

“How about I add another five hundred and then we drink a bit of tea?” Molotov asked. “I’m not much a fan of argument… but I’m afraid I didn’t really carry much more on me. It’s a fair 4300, you can live with that, can’t you?”

It was a reasonable enough request. If the dwarf refused, then Molotov was going to have a little more to say.

[Raelyse]

"Let's see... 1400 + 2800 + 500... I think that's... 4700? What are you talking about? Your adding ain't too fab, is it? Don't worry, bub... You never looked to me as if you were a Istien University degree holder, anyway?"

The shopkeeper laughed loudly, almost hysterically at finally being able to tell this man what he thought of him. Anyway, he held the cards. He did not scare him, because he knew what would happen if he so much as tried to reach behind the counter.

When he realized that his customer thought that this was enough, the storeowner allowed himself another loud laugh.

"How about you turn that little 500 into something bigger. Let's say... 1500?"

[Molotov]

Molotov smiled. He could care less that the merchant was laughing at him, it had been his intention all along. However, things had turned out a bit differently than Molotov had expected. The mutant thought by playing dumb, he might be able to trick the merchant into a better deal than the one he had planned. However, it seemed more that the merchant was interested in showing how much better he was.

“Actually, Jamison Academy,” Molotov replied. He looked on smugly. He didn’t doubt for a moment that the dwarf wouldn’t believe that he had graduated from one of Corone’s most prestigious preparatory schools, and perhaps with good reason. Molotov had attended, but he had never graduated. “Never did learn that much maths though…”

The mutant laid down an additional thousand pieces of gold. Now he had 4200 pieces worth of goods on the table, and an additional 1500 in gold pieces. It was a total of 5700. Not particularly great.

“I assume a standard number of bullets are complimentary?” Molotov asked. “Please don’t make me go through all those maths again…”

There was a hint of irony in his voice, but Molotov hoped that the dwarf was too busy being smug to detect it.

[Raelyse]

"Yeah... I would, if you weren't paying the majority in store credit. I do suppose I can give you a discount though. Normally, bullets are 20, but I'll sell you 10 for 150."

[Molotov]

This was a fight that Molotov had lost all energy to fight. “So this is how these buggers get you… through their sodded persistence…” the mutant thought. Well, that was fine. He could accept that. The little dwarf could enjoy his gold and laugh himself to death at the next convenient opportunity.

Molotov fished the requisite coins out of his pocket “Well then here’s 180 for twelve…” he said. “I suppose then we can finish this now?”

There were greater adversaries Molotov had than an annoyingly arrogant dwarf. Ones that made losing here seem considerably less acute.

[Raelyse]

"Yeah, I would have given you a discout... but you know..."

The dwarf just spaced off and walked away towards the back of the store, drooling at the amount of money he would soon receive.

(Done?)

[Molotov]

This dwarf was particularly frustrating. Now that practically everything else should have been settled, the mutant found that the shopkeeper was sauntering off without giving him his merchandise. “Of all the bloody cheek,” Molotov thought indignantly. He banged his fist down on the counter.

However, there seemed to be a convenient barrel full of bullets nearby, and a set of revolvers hanging on the wall. Figuring he had paid his fair amount, Molotov found an acceptable firearm and collected his bullets. With that, he headed out of the store, paid in full.

)(done)

[Raelyse]

(+ 70 EXP
Molotov loses his chainmail shirt, tungsten rod and 1500 GP.)

[Zieg dil' Tulfried]

GP deducted! EXP added!