"The wife insisted I come looking for a flower pot." Standing in front of Jabari and his new found marketing tutor, a middle aged man dressed in the bright garb of Nykan locals looked over the goods offered. The youth thought the man smelled somewhat of freshly tilled soil.
"Well if it is the better half you're looking to make happy, this vessel here will undoubtedly see to that." The vendor, whose name Jabari had yet to learn, held up a clay flower pot with impressive designs etched into it's surface. Pretty
"How much?"
"Seven silver mizas."
"Seven!" It was a whispered outrage. "I can get a flower pot twice as beautiful for half the price any other day in the western quarter."
The adopted son of The White Isle stood there taking in as much of the common tongue as he was able, eyes focused on the mannerisms of the merchant, making mental notes that might help in his own dealings. While no friend of manipulation, Jabari still wished to improve his ability to parley. He had a basic understanding of common, but continued to learn new words every day in an effort to become fluent.
"I am sure you could. Though, you would also risk the dangers of traveling to unfamiliar and unfriendly territory for the twice impressive bucket, assuming you can find a vendor who will sell it to someone not of their quarter. You can obviously take care of yourself my friend, but why risk it?"
A compliment mixed in with critique. Apparently, even a little honey went a long way. The dealer shrugged nonchalantly as if the outcome of the conversation was of little consequence to him. Jabari noted the casual nature. It appeared genuine as best his untrained senses could tell, but something made the teenager wonder if this was all part of the sale.
"Buying this vase today is an investment in your future happiness. Your wife clearly expects you to return home with it, and you and I both know how much regret a woman scorned can bring into a man's life. What would you rather spend your evening doing, explaining to your wife why you didn't do as she asked, or enjoying her gratitude?"
And there it was. The stance of the salesman, along with the self assured smile on his face, spoke of a sound argument that his customer could hardly deny. The consumer's face scrunched up, and for some reason Jabari imagined him looking over Deepwater Hole back on Mura, in need of one last bit of encouragement to make the jump.
"I'll even pretend I didn't hear your attempt at haggling that the monks would surely not appreciate taking place during The Fourth Day Market."
Or a push. Jabari saw the customer frown, defeated, while reaching into a colorful coin purse hidden beneath his shirt and counting out the seven silver mizas. Handing them over to the merchant and collecting the flower pot, the man was gone without a word.
"Just like that." The salesman seemed impressed with himself, but not so much that Jabari thought he hadn't made similar sales many times throughout his tenure as a trader.
"Now look. Word of your exploits are fast spreading among the vendors here. Your best bet is to lay low for a few days and then head to The Nykshela Quarries, just outside the western wall. You could use a bit of muscle on those bones anyway. And remember, know your customer. Good luck."
Jabari would have thanked the man, would have asked for his name, would have done something, but after that he was ignored in favor of the next wave of shoppers moving through the area. Nodding gratitude more to himself than the man, Jabari headed back to The Safe Haven Hostel reviewing the lessons learned and already piecing together a sales pitch. Overwhelmed as any amateur would be at the day's events, the Vantha thought it felt rather strange having to sell someone on the idea of you.
When in Nyka.
