Felim collapsed into the snow, exhausted. It felt like it would be the last fall this time, his limbs stiffening and flesh numb. The adventurer had heard of natives that thrived out here, men who slew bears and made coats of seal fur. But who could build anything out here...?
Just as he felt light start to fade, Felim cast his gaze up to see the sky one last time. He was startled - or would have been, if his body had the energy - to see a furred hood and a leathery face with a toothless grin. "Ho there, brother!" it spoke. "You came to just the right place."
"O Divine Broker, merchant of souls, bless our transaction, make it holy and righteous in Your sight. May those that profit from it be ever prosperous, and earn our reward in Your Sacred Market. Release us from our debts, and grant us lucrative exchange now and forever."
- Prayer before a trade, from Bashad the Spectacular's "The Handbook of Divine Wealth"
Any number of clergymen might be accused of putting their demands for secular wealth over their spiritual needs. Even these, however, would never claim to worship their prosperity. Yet such is the case with the followers of the Way of Divine Wealth, a religion of uncertain history and unabashed cupidity.
A spell for a penny
Red Dogs? his shop isnt on the market, you’ll have to wind over behind it, on one of the back streets. Wont be hard to find though, just look for the metal dogs and you’ve found him.
Should we fail to deliver a good promised within seven days, whence it arrives it shall be delivered free of all charges.
Baldric and Frog’s Semaine Promise
The customers who find this elusive little shop may leave with more than a simple love potion in their pocket.
Many think gold and silk are the way to wealth, but people always need to eat and they hate to eat the "same old bland thing". Thus they will always buy herbs, spices, and salt.
The Local Barron does not own this business, but he certain keeps it in business. It was named in his honor by two (now old) men who realized that non wizard generated cold drinks and foods could be profitable. In doing such, they have literally change the country.
The Returning Gem buys and sells goods, like a good pawn shop should.
Brownworks is a leatherworking shop and store. It is not much to look at from the outside. You know it is a leather shop the moment you open the door.
The city is large enough, and filled with enough nobles and rich merchants, that it can support a number of "frivolous businesses". Thus Garden in the City is the first Florist in the city (heck… in The Land).
It is an unassuming brick building. However, it is made assuming because it is surrounded by more traditional timber and plaster buildings. There are no windows and a very plain door. On the door is incribed the name of the establishment Zenorcans. Almost no one knows what goes on in there.
Silver Thread’s shop is a tailors shop. The shop mistress and her crew can produce a wide variety of local styled clothing in a wide variety of local cloths. While most clothes are always custom made, Silver Thread’s shop actually has premade clothing.
The Silver Chalice is the shop (and market stall) where Fredius Cancian of Amar sells his fine wines. His wines are a bit pricey, but worth the cost as they are generally better than the local wines. (note: He sells finer local wines as well, just they are few and far between).
On the intersection of Noble Avenue and First Street lies Kandorr’s Fine Perfumery. The shop occupies the entire building which is built in a classical style with majestic marble pillars and stylish stained glass windows.
Nestled in between the other vendors and shops in the market is a small shop, humble in appearance, yet exclusive in clientele…
Wizard’s Shop? Where’s the Magic Shop? What sort of rubbish are you going on about sir?
It is a colorful shop, full of dolls, puppets, mannequins, small statues, and other things that are just "shadows" of a human. That is what this shop sells.
It was a single store that sold a variety of good made by a variety of people. It was such a novel concept that most people will dislike it. "It is just not the way we do things around here", they would say. Yet they still buy things here.
The city has clay tiles on its roofs. This is the bane of sneaky thieves in the city. So where do these tiles come from? And why does anyone think there might be an adventure related to this.
AutoMedon – A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
“It’s strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its’ workings or even if the damn thing is” – Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman