Merchant Crab - Chapter 66: Balthazar’s Dissing Booth
Balthazar rummaged through a shelf, picking items and tossing them into a small open crate by his feet as he grumbled to himself.
“No, no, no, not this. Maybe some of this. Oh yes, definitely a couple of those! This thing can stay where it is. Why do I even have a dozen of that?!”
As the crab continued frantically filling the crate with all manner of odd things, Druma came running into the bazaar through the front gate with a stone hammer in hand and sweat rolling down his forehead.
“Boss, boss!” he called. “Druma is done. Boss can come out and see.”
Balthazar turned to the goblin with excitement. “You put it up where I told you? Did you place the stool there, too?”
“Yes, yes!” Druma responded, the tip of his wizard bouncing back and forth as he nodded vigorously.
“Good. Help me with these then and let’s go,” the crab said, pointing to another already filled box on a table.
Druma picked up the box, while Balthazar grabbed his own crate with both claws and balanced it on top of his shell as the pair made their way out of the bazaar and onto the sunny outside.
Walking onto the road, the toad’s stall was opposite of them, on the western side of the road, and now a new stall had been built on the eastern side, directly across from the other.
The crab gave it a quick look over. It was clearly built in a rush, but it was solid enough. It had a modest counter area and some shelf space under it, with a small cloth canopy above to provide some shade. Hanging in front of the improvised stand was a wooden sign with the name “Balthazar’s Bazaar Booth” painted on it.
“Good job, Druma,” he whispered to the goblin, as they both arrived behind the booth and put their boxes down. “You clearly learned some things while working with John.”
A wide grin grew across the small assistant’s face, his eyes shining with pride. “Thanks, boss!”
Peeking with one eye stalk over the counter, Balthazar looked to the booth on the other side of the road. The toad sat on her counter, watching the road, trying to not pay the crab’s stand any mind.
“Heh, bet if you could wear any boots, you’d be shaking in them right now,” he muttered to himself. “You wanted to compete with me? Well, now you’re going to learn the hard way who’s the best merchant.”
The crab hopped on the stool John had made for him and that his assistant had brought out from behind the bazaar’s counter. Placing his shiny claws on the counter, he propped his golden shell up, doing his best to look imposing.
“Oh, hiya there, neighbor!” Henrietta yelled from her side. “Beautiful day for being out here doing business, ain’t it?”
“Sure is,” Balthazar yelled back, “if you’re the legitimate business owner, and not some shameful freeloader trying to occupy someone else’s land!”
“This again?” said the toad. “You know, people in town have their stores and market stalls right next to each other everywhere and have to make their businesses attractive and competitive instead of complaining about one another. This road is big enough for the both of us!”
“I disagree!” said the crab. “I was here first, just by myself, and that’s how I like it!”
“Oh, dear, you don’t really mean that.”
“Oh yes, I do. And stop trying to act so nice or I’ll come over there and…”
Balthazar left his sentence unfinished as he glanced to his right and spotted a young lady walking down the road from town, wearing a white gown and carrying a long white staff over her shoulder.
“Hello, adven—” the crab started, but the toad quickly cut him off with a loud croak.
“Well, hello, sweetie! Don’t you look lovely as a peach today!”
The girl moved one side of her sheer veil behind an ear and looked at the toad who had just greeted her. “Uh, hello, and thanks. You look very… green, too.”
“Oh now, no need for pleasantries with an old toad like myself. I know we can’t all be such a looker as yourself. But you know what would go really well with a pretty young lady such as yourself?” Henrietta said, pulling her Bag of Holding closer and opening it. “A nice piece of jewelry. Looking at your beautiful eyes and blonde hair, I’m going to say something… silver!”
“Hmm… I guess it doesn’t hurt to look,” the adventurer said with a shrug, as she watched the toad displaying a few silver pieces of jewelry on the counter.
Over on the other side of the road, Balthazar’s pincers trembled over his counter as he watched, rage building up inside him.
She was good, but he knew he was better.
“Excuse me, miss healer,” he called, puffing himself up and putting on wise airs. “Would not an adventurer such as yourself be better served by purchasing some enchanted jewelry, rather than some… common baubles with nothing special to them?”
The girl pulled the other side of her veiled back and looked over to the crab’s booth.
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“Oh, how did you know I’m a healer?”
“I’m just very observant,” the gilded merchant responded, smirking as he adjusted his monocle. “Come, come, I think I have a magical item that you’re going to like.”
Seemingly forgetting about the toad, the healer walked across to the other booth without so much as looking back. Henrietta’s face frowned into an ugly expression, uglier than a toad’s usual one.
Balthazar looked over the girl’s shoulder with a smug look, before returning his attention to the client.
“What’s this magical item you speak of, crab?” she asked, looking intrigued.
“As a healer, I’m sure you will appreciate this,” he said, reaching down into one of his boxes and retrieving a small case.
Placing it on the wooden surface separating them, the merchant leaned closer to the girl and spoke in a more hushed tone.
“This is a very rare… Dagger of Cure Poison.”
Balthazar removed the cover from the case, revealing a small dagger inside, its pristine blade glowing faintly with a wavy green and white effect.
“A… what now?!” the confused adventurer said.
“A Dagger of Cure Poison!” the crab repeated, looking pleased with his big reveal. “It’s a silver dagger with a cure poison effect enchanted onto its blade.”
“Wha… But… Why would anyone enchant…” the bewildered girl stammered. “How does it work?”
“The same way any dagger does?” Balthazar said, looking confused by her question, and picking the weapon up with his pincer. “You take the dagger and stab someone with it.” He made several thrusts forward with the dagger, startling the girl. “And then the enchantment cures any poison effects the person might have.”
“But then, instead of being poisoned, they will have a stab wound!” the veiled girl blurted out, with the look of someone beginning to question the crab’s sanity. “Wouldn’t that be making things even worse?!”
“I don’t know,” the crab said, shrugging his shell. “You’re a healer. Can’t you just pray their wound away, or something?”
The adventurer looked at the merchant in pure disbelief. “You’re crazy and a complete fraud!”
Giving no time for a reaction, she turned away and started walking down the road.
“Miss! Wait, come back, I…” Henrietta called from her stand, but the girl did not hear or did not care to listen and continued marching away. “Great, I hope you’re happy, crab. Now neither of us made any business because of you.”
“Me?” Balthazar said to the toad. “How was that my fault? She was clearly limited up in her thinking box.”
The toad opened her mouth to respond, but they both turned their attentions back to the north side of the road, as two more adventurers came walking down their way.
“Hey, look, Balthazar’s out on the road now,” one of the adventurers said to the other. “I wonder why.”Thê sourc𝗲 of this conte/nt n/o/v/(𝒆l)bi((n))
“Who cares?” his partner said, quickly moving closer to the crab’s stall, paying no attention to the other stand. “Just means we can save more time. Let’s see if he has the gear we couldn’t get in town and get going already.”
“Greetings, gentlemen! What can I do for you?” the cheerful crab loudly said, peeking over to the other side and smiling as he saw the toad’s annoyed expression.
“Hey there, Balthazar,” the first adventurer said as he joined his friend in front of the booth. “We’re going into a cave, so we need some cave exploring gear, but the store in town was short on some stock. We were hoping you had some of the stuff we need.”
“Certainly! Balthazar’s Bazaar has everything the discerning adventurer could ever need,” the pompous crab exclaimed.
“Yeah, awesome, anyway,” the man said, looking down at the contents of his backpack, “you got any… torches?”
“Of course.” The crab turned to his goblin assistant, who was approaching with a third crate of items from the bazaar. “Druma, fetch us a handful of torches, will you?”
“Yes, yes, boss!” the goblin said, hurriedly running back inside.
“Oh, don’t forget the rope too,” the second adventurer said to his companion.
“I got some rope right here,” Balthazar said, pulling a coil of rope from the shelves under his booth and placing it on the counter. “Special offer on it today, too. Just 15 gold.”
“15 gold?” one of the clients said. “That’s a special price? It’s still even more expensive than what it would cost us in town.”
“According to you two, the store in town is out of rope, so 15 gold for it is still a better price than no rope at all, I say,” the crabby merchant retorted.
“Howdy, fellas!” a deep but friendly voice called from the other side of the road. “How y’all doing? I got some rope here for you, if you need. Just 12 gold for it, too.”
The two men looked back at the toad and then at each other.
“Did you know there was another talking animal selling stuff out here?”
“No, I didn’t. Did you?”
“No, but her rope is cheaper, so we should buy it there.”
“Wow, hang on, let’s not be so quick to jump ship here, guys,” Balthazar pleaded. “You guys realize that the reason my rope is more expensive is that it’s a special rope, right?”
“Special rope?” said one of the adventurers. “Special how?”
“It’s, uh… it’s a coil of Rope of Entanglement!” the quick thinking crab exclaimed.
“Oh, damn, really?” the other adventurer said, looking closer at the coil with an intrigued frown. “I think I’ve heard of that somewhere. What does it do?”
“It… well… it entangles a target, restricting their movements.”
“Ah, right, got it, but… how?” the other said. “Is there like a magic word you gotta say, some special spell, or what?”
“No… you just have to, you know… wrap it around whatever your target is,” the merchant said, making a rotating motion with his claws. “Until it’s… entangled.”
“What?!” the befuddled adventurer said. “But that’s just like any other piece of rope! You can’t just slap a fancy name on it and say it’s special!”
“I disagree,” Balthazar said, “but since you guys drive such a hard bargain, and because I like you, I’ll make the price… humph… 10 gold. Final offer.”
“If you fellas come over here, I’ll make it 8 gold and offer a fresh cup of lemonade to each of you!” Henrietta shouted from her booth.
“Screw it, I’m thirsty. Let’s go check the toad,” the adventurer said to his friend.
“But… guys, what the hell? Why would you want to buy junk from a toad on the road?” Balthazar yelled as they walked away.
One of them turned back halfway across and yelled back. “You realize you’re on the road too, right?”
Henrietta chuckled as they reached her stall. “You know what they say, don’t buy crap from a crab!”
The three of them laughed as the crab scrunched up his face on his side of the road. “That doesn’t even rhyme!”
But they did not seem to care.
Once again, the damnable toad was winning another one on the crab.
Balthazar’s mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation amid his ire.
Offering lower prices was pure dirty play on her part. The one low he would not stoop to.
How did she intend to keep undercutting him and not go bankrupt? It was not a sustainable tactic for any business. That was not even crab economics, it was simply common sense.
That question, added to Balthazar’s previous suspicions about where the toad had come from, only further reinforced his theory. Someone else was behind the slimy merchant, and it was likely a certain other slimy figure.
Jumping off his stool, the crab walked back down the path to his pond, angry and bitter.
“Boss? Druma got torches,” his assistant said, running up from the bazaar with a stack of torches in his arms.
“Never mind the torches, Druma, I don’t need them anymore,” Balthazar said as he walked past the goblin. “What I need is information, and a new strategy. Fetch me the strongbox where we keep the precious gems.”