The Banker's page

Borderline nonsensical post made by poster certain that just because things might come back into fashion in a couple of years time that makes him/her/it avant-garde, commenting on them, now.

Urizen wrote:

I got some chocolates from the Jacks. Anyone want any? I'll be glad to share. Puts down box.

<strolls out like Randall>

Maybe dwagons don't wike chocwit?

Hah! There you go. You owe me two hundred and fifty thousand gold pieces, plus whatever my lawyer charges you. In this case you may consider my legal represenative to be the messageboard regular commonly known as 'Sebastian'.

Shameless. Quite shameless. Worthless posts by jumped up aliases trying to get ahead of ME in the post count game.
Tsks at Smagnavast and the Stork, then realises he can't bill anyone for it, and goes back to preparing his invoice for Little Timmy.

Starts preparing an invoice for consultation fee with travel & entertaining expenses, and 50,000 GP worth of shares options...

Hee-hee-hee!

Now now, little man. Run along home to bed, or else you will be charged for my time.

Latest rumour spread.

In a loud voice, with an amazing ability to carry honed by many years of talking over shouting merchants, "While it will take a certain amount of time to arrange a meeting with his royal majesty, let me extend the welcome of the Merchant's Guild. We consider you our honored guest until such time as official royal permission can be granted."

"There, that ought to stir the pot a bit," she said quietly to Nimora. "Now go and talk to them. Like it or not, child, you have an audience. Use it."

She gave Nimora a small shove forwards.

Rubs his pudgy hands gleefully at this latest development and wastes no time conveying his version of it to the Bazaar.

The 'news' that emperor Mirathan has taken over Sandreef with the assistance of insider agents in the town's Merchant Guild causes a fairly predictable stir, and merchants in the Bazaar start planning to send delegations to the imperial capital to inquire if in return for 'gifts', the emperor might consider looking favourably upon them when he sends troops to add various towns in which they have contacts to his burgeoning empire.

Let's see...Mirathan the Unlucky, Mirathan the lovestruck, Mirathan the Bride-stealer, and now Mirathan the Expansionist. How 'bout Mirathan the Victim of Coicomstance, nyuk, nyuk, nyuk?

Actually I was thinking you'd like 'Grand Emperor Mirathan, lord of the seas'. You may as well give in and accept that it's going to happen. I always get my way. And my profit.

Within a matter of hours, rumours of the new king's imperial designs spread their way from the Bazaar back to the Pearl of the South.
Some of the senior figures of the city are immensely pleased by this 'positive action' and declare that it makes sense for the new king to engage upon such a program.
They say that the old king (the gods rest his soul) was perhaps a little too soft and kind for the harsh modern times, and that the Pearl would never have been attacked, had it been the proud capital of a powerful empire.

The Banker wrote:

Rumours fly around the Bazaar that King Mirathan of the Pearl of the South has embarked upon a campaign of imperial conquest, and is already sending troops to annexe neighbours and to expand his territory.

There is a noticeable impact almost immediately in the markets of the Bazaar, as merchants hoping to profit from the anticipated war start adjusting their prices and orders accordingly, hoping to steal a march on their competitors.

See? No good deed goes unpunished.

I work for the third of the Eldest Elemental Evils. Of course I'm going to say things the way that they are, and especially if I can make a profit from it at the same time... ;)

Rumours fly around the Bazaar that King Mirathan of the Pearl of the South has embarked upon a campaign of imperial conquest, and is already sending troops to annexe neighbours and to expand his territory.
There is a noticeable impact almost immediately in the markets of the Bazaar, as merchants hoping to profit from the anticipated war start adjusting their prices and orders accordingly, hoping to steal a march on their competitors.

A self important seeming plump fellow waddles through the streets of the bazaar, trailed by a couple of clerks. He pauses outside the door of Pete's shop and sniffs the air fastidiously, then shakes his head and moves on.