Post by Torrential on Jan 17, 2007 19:02:58 GMT -5
This RP is something I posted on my site, and I was wondering what you all think of it:
Orik exhaled a mighty breath as he heaved his carriage filled to the brim with dwarven goods into the heart of Tamasha Village. The Elders were going to get rid of an assortment of items: old scrolls, tattered axes, worn mail, and other dwarven craft. Orik wished it not to go to waste, so he decided to haul it to Tamasha to see if any of it would catch the eye of a buyer or trader.
As he passed the outskirts of the town, Orik stumbled into the threshold of the trading post. Many booths with cunning salespeople and eager buyers outlined the main road of the village. People stationed at their respective stalls beckoned Orik toward their assortment of goods, sure that a fine trinket or other would catch a glimmer in the dwarf's eye.
"You, there, how would you like to own this fine craft?"
"Save much gold here, my friend!"
"Such a variety of items at my store, old chap!"
Orik ignored them all.
As soon as Orik found an open space, he claimed it as his own. Thinking of all the interested customers he would attract, Orik laid down a blanket on which he would place his goods for potential customers to browse. There was no need for fancy booths like all the other sellers; inventory was what people cared about. He also made sure to mark each item with an appropriate price. These may be a wee bit on the expensive side, he thought, but these are too rare to pass up!
Orik seated himself next to his goods and took a swig from his flask, ready for the day ahead.
Orik was surprised at the number of people who stopped to look through his wares. Many a man stood to examine a fine weapon or useful tool, and many women coveted fine pieces of jewelry. Overall, Orik's first revenue was high. While he made quite the bag of gold, he even enticed traders of all sorts to view his items. He happily exchanged war axes for other finely crafted blades, pickaxes for other tools, all to expand his range of goods.
"Sir?" inquired a man. Upon inspection, he seemed as if he were no more than a commoner of the city. He wore ragged clothes and walked with a slightly diminished air about him.
"Eh?" Orik grunted in reply.
"I was wondering....how much for this ax?" The man pointed to an intricately crafted battle ax.
Orik recognized it as his clan's ax of honor. Only the most renowned warriors could behold it. It was old, however, and had lost some of its value. Orik deeply considered the ax. "Normally I'd charge no less than 850 gold pieces, for such an honorable relic. But for you, me kind sir, ye can have it for a mere 300 gold pieces."
The man frowned. "I—" he paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, but I've changed my mind. I must return to my wife and family." The man sadly turned on his heels and left.
For what it was worth, maybe it was all better off in the garbage.
Orik exhaled a mighty breath as he heaved his carriage filled to the brim with dwarven goods into the heart of Tamasha Village. The Elders were going to get rid of an assortment of items: old scrolls, tattered axes, worn mail, and other dwarven craft. Orik wished it not to go to waste, so he decided to haul it to Tamasha to see if any of it would catch the eye of a buyer or trader.
As he passed the outskirts of the town, Orik stumbled into the threshold of the trading post. Many booths with cunning salespeople and eager buyers outlined the main road of the village. People stationed at their respective stalls beckoned Orik toward their assortment of goods, sure that a fine trinket or other would catch a glimmer in the dwarf's eye.
"You, there, how would you like to own this fine craft?"
"Save much gold here, my friend!"
"Such a variety of items at my store, old chap!"
Orik ignored them all.
***
As soon as Orik found an open space, he claimed it as his own. Thinking of all the interested customers he would attract, Orik laid down a blanket on which he would place his goods for potential customers to browse. There was no need for fancy booths like all the other sellers; inventory was what people cared about. He also made sure to mark each item with an appropriate price. These may be a wee bit on the expensive side, he thought, but these are too rare to pass up!
Orik seated himself next to his goods and took a swig from his flask, ready for the day ahead.
***
Orik was surprised at the number of people who stopped to look through his wares. Many a man stood to examine a fine weapon or useful tool, and many women coveted fine pieces of jewelry. Overall, Orik's first revenue was high. While he made quite the bag of gold, he even enticed traders of all sorts to view his items. He happily exchanged war axes for other finely crafted blades, pickaxes for other tools, all to expand his range of goods.
"Sir?" inquired a man. Upon inspection, he seemed as if he were no more than a commoner of the city. He wore ragged clothes and walked with a slightly diminished air about him.
"Eh?" Orik grunted in reply.
"I was wondering....how much for this ax?" The man pointed to an intricately crafted battle ax.
Orik recognized it as his clan's ax of honor. Only the most renowned warriors could behold it. It was old, however, and had lost some of its value. Orik deeply considered the ax. "Normally I'd charge no less than 850 gold pieces, for such an honorable relic. But for you, me kind sir, ye can have it for a mere 300 gold pieces."
The man frowned. "I—" he paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, but I've changed my mind. I must return to my wife and family." The man sadly turned on his heels and left.
For what it was worth, maybe it was all better off in the garbage.