Qing's Quest book 2, Chapter 15: Snake Oil

Qing followed Morgana to the tables along the wall. He hadn’t seen her smile so for a long time.

“You enjoy shopping that much?” he asked.

“Shopping? It’s fine, I guess,” she said, shrugging. Then turned with a grin and grabbed his arm. “But shopping at Jorik’s?” She shook her head, as if in disbelief. “I’d never thought I’d get to experience it. They say some of the items moving through here are…legendary.”

“Legendary?” Qing asked. “As in orange?”

“Orange? Like fruit?”

“No, as in the color. The rarity.”

“Is this one of your...” She waved her hands about. “One of the Qing things?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I guess you mean the items are fabled?”

Morgana looked at Knut, raising her eyebrow.

“If the items are famous,” Knut said, clarifying.

“Oh. Why didn’t you just say that? And, yeah, that’s what I meant. Some really famous items came through here. My dad once told me he got his…” Morgana stopped as a shadow fell across her face.

“Your dad?” Qing asked.

“No, never mind,” she said, waving a hand. “Just forget it. The point is, shopping at Jorik’s, it’s unique. I wonder what’s available.”

Qing walked along the tables, careful not to bump any of the clients that were haggling. He couldn’t tell anything about the items just by looking at them. There was no hovering a mouse cursor over an item to see a comparison to what he wore.

That would have been a nice feature.

But maybe there was something he could do to tip the scales in their favor.

He to Knut, who looked at an assortment of rings, stroking his chin. “This gives physical protection?” Knut asked.

The merchant, every inch of her covered in billowing pink cloth, except her eyes and tattooed hands, nodded. “Yes.” her voice was melodic voice, and she moved her hands through intricate movements, almost like a dance, punctuating her words. “Twice a day it can make your skin like stone, protecting you from hits.”

“Interesting,” Knut said. “And how do you turn back from—”

“Excuse me,” Qing said, gripping Knut and pulling him from the table.

“Hey! I’m shopping here?” Knut said, waving his hands around in his best New York imitation.

I should never have taught him that.

Qing waved his hands away and leaned in. “Is there honor among merchants here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do merchants try to scam you here, or is it more of a whatever you can get away with type of place?”

“Something between the two,” Knut said, pushing at Qing’s hand. “Jorik doesn’t let just anyone sell their wares here. They are all checked, and he gets a percentage of each sale. He has worked hard to build his reputation. But there’s no fixed prices, if that’s what you mean. The value of an item is as much in the eyes of the beholder as in the seller.”

“And do the merchants always know what they have?”

“Well…” Knut said, scratching the back of his head. “What are you getting at?”

“What if you had access to the exact details of the items? Might that perhaps be of use?”

Knut’s eyes went wide, as if he’d spotted a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. “Holy shit,” he said. “You’re right.” Knut grasped Qing by the arms. “I’m going to need you to touch some stuff for me.”

Qing chuckled.

“Oh, grow up! You know what I mean. This is serious. We can make…” he shook his head, “so damn much money!”

“Hold your horses,” Qing said. “Money is fine, but we’re not lacking. We have one focus, and that is to get the gear needed to take down Rufus and rescue Cleo and Jenny. Right?”

“Right. Yes. Of course,” Knut said. But the man actually bit his lip, and Qing could feel the inner battle raging within his friend. The merchant battling with the hero.

Knut took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Okay. I got it. Here’s the plan. We’ll get a few items now, making sure that whatever you do, don’t let them figure out your special ability. Then, later, we’ll come back and really clean up. Alright?”

“Hopefully, I won’t be here later, and you’ll all be safe.”

“Sure. If we’ve averted the apocalypse, then that counts as a win. But…”

“Ok, Knut.” Qing smiled at his friend’s enthusiasm. “Tell me what to do.”

“What is the scale again?”

“Common, uncommon, magic, rare, epic, unique, and legendary.”

Knut nodded. “I’ll give you the items, and if it is rare or above, hold it in your right hand. If it’s epic, smell it. I don’t care how weird it looks, just do it. If it’s unique, listen to it, put your ear down, put it up to your ear as if to hear, and if it’s legendary, pretend you have to sneeze.”

“Isn’t this all a little...obvious?”

“No,” Knut said and waved his hand. “Just be cool about it. Chill. Right? And let me negotiate.” Knut was about to walk off, but Qing held him back.

“One more thing, the levels. It seems you can use any level item, but I am limited. How do we communicate that?”

“You’re level fourteen now, right?”

“Yes. Eighty percent to fifteen.”

“Just work the level of the item into the conversation somehow, if it is too high.”

“I’ll try.”

“Excellent.”

To start off with, they picked up local clothing for the four of them so they could blend in.

Most of the merchants were honest about the quality of their items and the price thereof. But then they came to the potion merchant. All the potions looked identical to the healing potions he’d used before, as did the man’s mana pots and poison antidotes.

Qing picked up a red potion.

Item: [Blood-root juice]

This guy is a snake oil salesman! What am I supposed to say to Knut about this? We didn’t agree something for completely fake items. If I say I can spot the fakes, then we lose our edge, but…

“How much for all the healing potions?” Knut asked.

The merchant grinned from ear to ear and gave the price. It would have been fair, if the potions were real.

How many are fake? If I select just the real potions and we buy those, but then I’ll be giving up the game. Does it matter? We’ve got enough money, but…what if merchants refuse to deal with us afterwards and we lose out on things we need?

They had more than enough money to just pay for the health potions, but Qing thought of the doctors who had promised miracle cures for his sister, and he felt a heat well up inside him. The healthcare system at home was infuriatingly fucked, but at least there was one. Here, while they had healing potions, they were unobtainable for most. And on top of that, this guy peddled fakes?

No. I’m not letting him get away.

He leaned forward and smacked the merchant across the face.

“You son of a camel whore,” the merchant said, hand going to his face, the other pointing at Qing as he screamed. “You struck me!”

“It is only my respect for Jorik that stops me from striking you down,” Qing said, growling.

The shopping area went deadly silent.

“What are you doing?” Knut hissed.

“Jorik!” the merchant said. “The foreigner struck me!”

“Oh god…” Knut said, dragging his hand across his face.

Jorik strode over, followed by one of his massive bouncers. “What is going on here? This place allows no violence except mine! Is it true you struck him?”

“Yes,” Qing said, holding Jorik’s eye.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t throw you out right now.”

“Your reputation. Everyone knows Jorik’s kirathaane has the best magical market in Zylphadia.”

The man crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And?”

Qing held up the potion. “This is fake.”

Jorik’s lip rose in a sneer. “Fake?” He turned to the merchant. “Jafar, are you peddling fake potions in my kirathaane?”

“Of course not,” Jafar said, shoulders scratching his ears, hands pumping the sky. “This foreigner is lying! You know me. I’ve come here for years!”

“It seems we have reached an impasse,” Jorik said. “You both accuse the other of lying. How would you solve this?”

“How about a test?” Qing said.

“Go on.”

“Jafar says his healing potion is true. I say it’s fake.” He clenched his right hand into a fist and the three claws slid out. The bouncer lifted his cudgel, but Jorik waved a hand. “I cut his hand off and then he drinks the potion,” Qing said. “If the potion is real, then I pay him ten times what he asked for it, and leave your kirathaane, never to return.” He smiled at Jorik and winked. “If it is fake, well, it would be quite the show, wouldn’t it? The story of the one-handed merchant would be a fitting addition to Jorik’s legend.” He glanced down at Jorik’s left hand.

Jorik chuckled. “Oh, I see. That is delightful.”

As one, they turned to Jafar, who had gone pale. The man visibly swallowed. “Y…you expect me to let this foreign heathen defile my body?”

“Is the healing potion real?”

“Of course,” Jafar said, stammering. He licked his lips, eyes darting around. Suddenly, he grabbed a potion from the table and held it up next to his face. “Fine! If I have to prove it, I will. But…would it not be fairer to remove the hand of the accuser, rather than my own?”

Jorik stared at Jafar’s hand. Then, as if appearing out of nowhere, Jorik drew a rapier and skewered the man’s hand to the wall, the potion clattering to the floor. “You know what the market means to me, to the city, and…to the children. I have known Knut for a long time. First his friend says you sell fake goods and then you cherry-pick among your own potions...” He clicked his tongue. “Qing, go ahead. Cut his hand off.”

Jafar screamed, “No, stop, wait, hold on!” He held his other hand away as far as possible, pressing his back against the wall. If he hadn’t been rapiered to the wall, he’d have fled. “Let me explain.”

“Explain what?” Jorik said, twisting his rapier.

Jafar’s scream rose in pitch. “It’s a new supplier! Maybe, just maybe, some potions aren’t my normal quality. I haven’t had time to test them all.”

“A lazy excuse,” Jorik said. “Grab his arm.”

The bouncer caught the man’s arm and forced it out over the table.

“Please, Jorik! Don’t do this,” Jafar said, tears in his eyes.

Qing looked to Jorik, who nodded once. Qing struck, cutting the man’s hand off at the wrist, into three separate pieces. Hand and fingers dropped among the potions, clattering onto the table, blood spewing forth.

Jafar howled in pain.

Qing unstopped the bottle he held and poured parts onto the hand, and held the rest out to the merchant, who kept screaming.

“Are you not going to drink the potion?” Jorik asked.

“Was this proof enough?” Qing asked.

“Yes,” Jorik said, looking at the un-healed hand. “It seems a snake got through my fence.”

“Good. Then hold on,” Qing said.

Jorik looked at him questioningly.

Qing picked up the bottles one by one.

Item: [Blood-root juice]

Item: [Blood-root juice]

Item: [Blood-root juice]

Item: [Blood-root juice]

Item: [Blood-root juice]

Item: [Health Potion]

He unstopped the health potion. “Would you un-stick him from the wall, please?”

Jorik did.

The man collapsed, but Qing caught him by the throat, forcing the bottle between his lips, upending it.

The man’s eyes went wide, and he grabbed Qing’s hand, sucking at the potion like a baby with a bottle. As the health potion took effect, Jafar’s hand re-grew, and he sank to the floor, whimpering.

“Merciful,” Jorik said.

“In case he told the truth,” Qing said, “And he actually got scammed.”

The merchants and customers all stared at them.

“But how did you know?” Jorik asked, eyes narrowing.

Now, for the crux of the plan.

“My father was an apothecary,” Qing said, lying through his teeth. “I can smell a fake potion when I see one.”

“Ah,” Jorik said, echoed by the merchants, who all nodded sagely.

Knut smiled.

That should keep potion sellers from scamming us, but other merchants won’t suspect a thing.

“How convenient,” Jorik said. “I might have use of your services at another time.”

“I’d be happy to help.”

Jorik turned to the bouncer. “Throw out the trash.”

Qing reached over and placed a hand on the bouncer’s arm, halting him. “Jorik, if you don’t mind, I would like to buy the genuine potions from the man at the pre-negotiated bulk price.”

Jafar whimpered. “That price is only for those buying all the...” he trailed off under their stares.

“Why, of course,” Jorik said.

Qing swiftly picked through the potions.

Item: [Health Potion] x 3 added to inventory

Item: [Mana Potion] x 4 added to inventory

Item: [Poison Antidote] x 2 added to inventory

Knut paid Jorik, who pocketed it.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Jorik said. The bouncer picked Jafar up and carried him out.

“Thank you for safeguarding my establishment’s reputation,” Jorik said. “You have gained a favor with me. It has now been put into the bank.” As he said it, he pretended to snap something out of the air, putting it in the front pocket of his purple coat, the one now spattered in red. He patted it with a smile.

“Thank you,” Qing said.

Jorik nodded, before raising his voice. “This is why you always bring your best to Jorik’s! You never know whom you meet, what you find, or…” he gathered the chopped off fingers and started juggling his way to the doorway, “what you’ll see!”

As people clapped, Knut leaned close to Qing. “That was rather clever.”

“Thank you. I couldn’t risk him selling fake potions to someone who needs them.”

“A kind heart backed by a clever mind is a dangerous combination for those who walk the path of evil,” Knut said, patting him on the back.

Then Morgana tossed Qing a dagger, and he snapped it out of the air.

“Is this really a poisoned dagger?” she asked, and Knut groaned.