The Flying Emporium

“The scroll is the only real choice here. It’s not even a question.”

“You keep saying that. But what good is a powerful item if it can’t actually be used?”

“Of course people can and will use it. They just shouldn’t do so immediately.“

“In which case it wouldn’t sell immediately, either.”

“But... what are you talking about? Yes, it will.”

“It probably will,” Bandur conceded. “But the collars, for example, definitely will. Everyone will want one. Now. And most people probably even more than just one. As for the armor, I think it might be even more powerful than that scroll.”

“Dwarf!”

“What? It can be worn by everyone. And provides superb protection, does it not? What else could be more important to an adventurer than the means to protect themselves?”

“Just because it could theoretically be worn by anyone, doesn’t mean it will! Do I really have to explain it? No [Ranger] will ever wear it. No [Rogue]. And no [Mage] either. No matter how great its stats. And certainly not if those stats strength based. No one but a select choice of frontliners will want to wear this. The ones already wearing heavy armor like this, anyway.”

“Some [Battlemages] might.”

“Some [Battlem-]… you can’t be serious! Just how many [Battlemages] do you know? And I will have you know that strictly speaking, most of those can be considered frontliners as well. So my point stands either way, no matter what ridiculous exceptions you try to come up with.

[Battlemages], he says. Ha.”

Bandur fell silent for a moment. He knew his last point was silly the moment he had made it. But-maybe it was the woman’s choice of words that didn’t quite sit right with him or maybe Severin’s behavior finally started to rub off on him- that didn’t mean he was ready to concede his point just yet.

“What about classless people, then?”

“What about them?” Again, the dwarf wasn’t too convinced by his own argument, but hearing the annoyed, almost dismissive tone in Mylana’s reply, he became stubborn.

“Well, the armor doesn’t have any requirements,” he therefore pointed out.

“So what? They don’t have level a-” she halted and remembered.

Hadn’t she herself just hypothesized that even classless people might have levels? That maybe they didn’t understand the level-system quite as well as they thought they did?

Bandur naturally knew nothing about those thoughts and this new hypothesis of hers. He simply saw Mylana’s sudden hesitation and decided it was an opening he had to exploit.

“Even without any level bonuses, its baseline stats alone would be huge for any classless person. Sure, it might be on the heavy side, but for a physically trained soldier? Shouldn’t be too much to handle.”

“Hmm.” Ostensibly a sound of agreement; which was already was a small victory.

In reality, Mylana had already stopped listening. The practical implications were a non-factor. Non-classbearers having access to better armor? So what? Despite their mutually beneficial business relations, it wasn’t like Malcos, her homeland, had the exclusive rights-to-buy the Emporium’s wares. Any military advantage would be short-lived at best. And quite frankly, she just didn’t care. No, what mattered to her was only the fact that this suit of armor would allow her to tell its wearer’s level, simply by making use of her newly obtained [Identify] skill and checking out the suit’s current stats.

“I…You might be right,” she finally conceded, much to Bandur’s surprise and satisfaction. “It might at least be worth considering.”

“And what do you think, boss?”

But something else preoccupied the one actually in charge.

Imagery

This one word kept buzzing through his head. To the extent that Severin had barely even been aware of the heated discussion that had played out right next to him. With its conclusion completely irrelevant to him.

The receiver is able to receive imagery.

That was all that mattered. The possibilities would be endless.

‘Well. Maybe not endless, but...’

[Congratulations, your choice had been confirmed. A never-ending supply of [Receiver] and [Transmitter crystals] will be issued momentarily.]

What followed was first a moment of incomprehension and an uncomfortable silence.

Then an outcry that, in terms of intensity, rivaled even the reactions he had experienced earlier this day when he had announced a new product to a room filled with customers.

“What have you done?”

“Why did you do this? Are you insane?”

And after that, a whole night spent justifying himself.

…

The next morning an old woman that looked like she was on the verge of quitting her job stood behind the counter of the Emporium’s main store, her crossed arms resting on small a cubical device that stood on top of said counter.

Next to that device stood three signs that had popped up overnight.

The first of those stood out immediately, simply because of its green color and the amount of text; whoever issued that one must have been a different person than the one who made the other two.

The second told any potential customer looking to extract their class-orb despite the warnings on the first sign that would have to submit themselves to a brief questioning while under the influence of a short-lived magic contract.

Just to ensure they were acting out of their free will.

And then there was the third sign. Which simply said...

“Ask me about my [Transmitter crystal]?” The moment the first customer of the day read this line out loud, the old woman’s frown grew even deeper than it had already been.

The grin on the chubby man’s face who stood right behind her, however, widened by the same margin.

Now even more intrigued, the customer’s focus alternated between man and woman. Until he, still smiling, but his hand on her shoulder. Who then resigned.

Sigh

“Please, “her voice sounded as cold as her facial expression, “let me demonstrate.”

Without further ado, the woman raised her hand and pointed towards her ear, where, now, upon closer observation, a small, transparent device could be seen sticking out ever so slightly.

Which she then touched.

The next moment, four small spheres that had been inconspicuously placed on the shelves behind the woman, and which the customer had similarly overlooked until now, flickered to life, spanning a surface between them.

A surface which mirrored the customer’s surprised face.

“Aargh,” came the surprised scream. “What is-?!”

“Aargh! What is-?!” His own face screamed back at him, causing the man to almost fall over backwards.