Ashes of the Fallen

"The market is such a strange thing, isn't it," I stated quizzically.

"You got that right, I don't know what to do if business continues to dry up."

"Maybe I could help with that," I offered out of the blue. Though not entirely random, I had a theory on a possible market share that I wanted to test.

I also wanted to experiment with how neutral NPCs reacted to players that weren't from the same region. I was a foreigner here, a hundred miles displaced from the North I called home. This town had little relation to the Northern Triangle or Dragon's Breach, but my influence still carried slightly.

It was an invisible thing, but the NPCs automatically registered it.

I was a man of importance, according to my Reputation stat.

"What are you suggesting?" he asked, clearly curious but dubious as to what I could offer. He just didn't trust a stranger completely, for which I couldn't blame him.

"I have… a segment of the market that I think you can corner," I started to explain as I brought my hand to my chin and began to scratch. "Most of the beginner adventurers here have yet to reach the lower levels of the abandoned mining complex that was recently opened, but once they do, they'll be quick to find their equipment lacking. They'll be wanting a mask, like this bandana here."

"And… so, you're saying, if I just wait, my sales will start to increase?" he asked while looking doubtful. He didn't quite believe me, but that was alright.

I obviously needed to explain in more detail, so even he could see the light.

"That might happen, but you can be proactive here," I continued. "Rearrange the store slightly, so that the bandanas, scarves, and shawls are at the front, interspersed with your more expensive specialty items. Either raise the price on the little items slightly, while advertising them specifically for the dungeon, or toss one in free with a purchase of a more profitable, costlier item."

"How does that help me sell more," he replied with a smirk.

"Simple, these adventurers aren't going to be buying the clothes you have laid out here at the front, they aren't useful to us at this point," I said seriously with no hesitation. "Most of us don't need these luxury items, and most of us can't afford it anyhow. Those masks are cheap and would be quite handy for anyone going into the mines. Start advertising what they can be used for and I'm willing to bet you will see an increase in sales."

I stood my ground after laying everything out there for the man to mull it over, as I was positive that there was a market for those goods. I could put up with a lot of things, and considered myself an extremely patient and tolerant person. Especially when it came to issues of pain and discomfort. Yet the fact that I was getting annoyed and tired of breathing in the smoke and the burning of my eyes and nostrils had me convinced that there were other players thinking the exact same thing.

If he didn't want to believe me, I was tempted to buy him out and open my own stall in front of the dungeon. I was going to make money off this theory of mine, one way or another. When a chance to make large sums of quick money stares you in the face, it behooves you to grab it and hold on tightly until the market dries up. Nothing lasts forever, but you may just make a small fortune in between.

I didn't care if it was a short ride, so long as I made some profit.

I considered it a crime to throw away an opportunity.

The man seemed to be stuck on what I had said, and couldn't quite make up his mind. I didn't blame him, and was actually surprised he wasn't angry with me for making such a blatant suggestion.

Usually, I would be more subtle and goad the person into seeing things my way less they be offended, but here… I didn't feel like wasting the time.

Part of paying full price for the bandana instead of bartering was my way of breaking the ice as well, getting on the good side of the clerk. It wasn't quite that malicious though, just friendly business practice.

I considered it more, standard etiquette, I guess you could say.

It usually worked, and the man was quite receptive once he had some money in his hands. Now he was showing me around the store, listening to suggestions, and perhaps, even willing to work with me.

A return customer to a privately-ran store could expect some reasonable discounts, if the customer is friendly and sociable enough. That, or purchase enough goods to bring the profit margin down a little, as bulk transactions that move a lot of inventory are often seen as a plus. Especially if its old inventory that has been sitting for a while.

"Ah I don't know," he finally stammered after quite some time.

"Well, how about this then," I said, having decided on suggesting an alternate plan that required a little investment from me. "Sell me all of your bandanas, scarves, and shawls at your standard price, and then let me run a stall right in front of your store."

"What?!" he quickly yelped. "How could I do that, that's direct competition!"