With fresh coins added to the currency counter in his inventory, they headed back downstairs and into the main hall. Making their way through the throng as they looked at the goods on offer, Jason spotted a familiar face. Jory’s stand wasn’t one of the permanent stalls, but it was one of the larger ones. At the front was a glass counter lined with colourful bottles and vials, behind which stood Jory himself. Most of the stall was storage space, hidden behind a curtain. While Jory was selling a woman a bottle of perfume, Jason perused the chalkboard beside the counter listing the available products.
“Crystal wash,” he read out loud.
“Seriously?” Jory asked, as his customer rejoined the crowd. “I can only make so much of it, and there are other people who want to buy it. People who don’t get the friends discount.”
“You realise I had to trudge through a bog marsh, right? To protect the poor, innocent people of the delta?”
Jory groaned.
“I can give you one crate, but that’s it for the week.”
“Twelve bottles?” Jason said. “I can’t get by on twelve bottles.”
“You do know about showers and baths, right?”
“He cleans his teeth with it,” Gary said.
“What?” Jory said.
“It leaves my mouth feeling fresh.”
“Well, if you want more,” Jory said, “I’m not the only alchemist here.”
“What about those assistants you were talking about getting from the Alchemy Association?” Jason asked.
“Expanding my operations isn’t something I can just do on a whim, you know. I have a lot of demands on my time.”
“I thought that’s why you wanted the assistants,” Jason said. “Someone to take over the grunt work.”
They paused for Jory to sell an adventurer a bundle of potions.
“It isn’t that simple,” Jory said, resuming their conversation. “If I’m going to do it properly, I need to put together a whole new facility. Extra space, new equipment. Wages for the assistants. You know the kind of margins I work under.”
“That’s fair,” Jason said. “Have you considered investors?”
“You offering?” Jory asked.
Jason held up a hand, three gold coins stacked between his thumb and forefinger.
“Something like this get you started?”
The basic coin of the realm was the lesser spirit coin. Iron spirit coins were worth a hundred lesser coins, used by bulk traders, adventurers and other members of the wealthy elite. After that, it was ten iron to the bronze, ten bronze to the silver and ten silver to the gold. The gold spirit coins in Jason’s hand was worth three hundred thousand units of the basic currency.
“You’re not serious?” Jory said, to which Jason placed the coins down on the counter. Jory hesitantly picked them up, peering at them nestled in his palm.
“Do you know how many people I can help with this kind of money?” Jory asked.
“It doesn’t matter how many people you help,” Jason said. “What matters is if this gets me another crate of crystal wash.”
“I still can’t believe you gave him all that money,” Gary said as they made their way through the crowd.
“It’s an investment.”
“In what? That guy spends all his money on helping sick poor people.”
“But imagine a world where everyone gave money for things like that.”
Gary thought it over for a moment.
“Then there’d be more healthy poor people?”
Jason allowed himself to be led by Gary’s expertise as they looked at various armour for sale. They checked out large stalls selling armour in job lots and small stalls with expensive, handcrafted work. The main hall was only the beginning of the grand bazaar. Side corridors led to sprawling arcades lined with boutique shops. Jason spotted one with a sign so long it threatened to encroach on the abutting storefront.
GILBERT’S RESILIENT ATTIRE FOR THE DISCERNING GENTLEMAN
Jason walked inside, which was a large open space lined with armour of the lighter variety Jason preferred, largely cloth and leather. Most of the wares were draped over mannequins to demonstrate the hang of the garb. Several customers were perusing the wares, along with the proprietor in a frock coat that bulged heavily in the middle. Jason recognised the middle-aged man’s paunchy frame and balding head.
“Bert,” Jason said.
“Indeed I am, sir. Gilbert, of Gilbert’s Resilient Attire For the Discerning Gentleman. For fine men as yourselves, however, I invite and appeal upon you to call me Bert. I take it from that glint of recognition in your eye that you are familiar with one of my brothers? Please tell me it isn’t Filbert, of Filbert’s Fine Leather Emporium.”
“Uh, no,” Jason said. “I’m Jason, and this is Gary.”
Gary waved vaguely from where he was already inspecting the merchandise.
“I’ve met Bertram and Albert and Herbert, but not Filbert,” Jason said. “You’re quintuplets?”
“Actually, it’s octuplets,” Gilbert said.
“There’s eight of you?”
“Indeed there are,” Gilbert said. “There’s Robert, who sells fruit with Herbert, but on the Island instead of Old City.”
“Selling the same fruit, but charging three times as much?”
“I knew you for a gentleman of discernment,” Gilbert said. “There’s also Hubert, but we don’t really talk about him. Got caught up with a criminal element. That just leaves Bertrand. He’s the handsome one.”
“You aren’t all identical?”
“No, we are.”
Jason was about to inquire further when Gary jostled his arm.
“There’s some quality stuff here,” Gary said. “Take a look at this.”
“Ah,” Gilbert said. “Trap weaver silk, alchemically treated for maximum resiliency. Leather panels carefully placed to provide additional protection without compromising flexibility. The magic is integrated right down to the weaving pattern of the cloth. Tricky and laborious work, but the results speak for themselves. It also allows for the loose, flowing design, which is quite unusual with protective wear.”
Just as Gilbert said, the armour was almost a robe, in shifting shades of dark grey. The more fitted parts around the torso, arms and legs had black leather panels, but the layered garment was also draped with flowing cloth. It was a strange combination of tactical armour from Jason’s world and some kind of wizard robe. Jason was immediately taken with it.
“There’s a mythological order of dark warrior mystics where I come from,” Jason said. “They dress like this. I don’t suppose you know where I can get a sword with a blade made of red light?”
“Not in this city,” Gary said. “I’ve seen some gold-rank weapons like that.”
“Nice,” Jason said. “I have to start ranking up.”
“You’re a long, long way from gold rank,” Gary said with a laugh. “You should keep your eyes on what’s in front of you, for now.”
Gilbert smelled a sale and continued his spiel.
“The mix of shades and the flowing lines are of value to clients who value stealth,” Gilbert said, continuing with his sales pitch. “While not assisted by magic, the drape of the fabric breaks up the lines of the body, making it harder to recognise in the dark.”
“That does actually work,” Gary said, “although it doesn’t really matter with that cloak of yours.”
Jason reached out to run his fingers over cloth, which felt smooth and sleek.
Item: [Trap Weaver Battle Robe] (iron rank, epic)
A full body armour, carefully hand-crafted from the silk and leather of trap weavers. (armour, cloth/leather).
Effect: Increased resistance to damage. Highly effective against cutting and piercing damage, less effective against blunt damage.
Effect: Repairs damage over time. Extensive damage may require external repair.
Effect: Absorbs blood to prevent leaving a blood trail.
Effect: Increases resistance to bleed and poison effects.