Olaf had been harassing me both via my personal messages and Courier. As soon as I went online, I was buried in errands and berated for my rogue activity. Basically, I needed to help the clan by buying lots of items essential for warfare and shipping them to Dorsa. On top of that, I also had to meet someone called Dar from Hird and deliver something so important that it couldn’t be transferred via auction or contract, only in person. Why go to such trouble? The Prophet had even given me money for the ultra-expensive “lock,” a premium scroll that temporarily protected a certain inventory item from being dropped.
Almost all routine auction lots, my own and the clan’s, were already obsolete or had fallen down the list, pushed away by the competitors. I needed to update the prices, but I had no time for that yet. I opened Olaf’s letter and carefully bought everything mentioned there — several hulls of low-capacity flying ships, stonejammers, magic weapons and various ammunition for them, and a gazillion consumables: elixirs, scrolls, and spell ingredients. The list also included the Crystal Bells, which I was intimately familiar with — alchemical bombs for siege weapons. There were a lot of them too. I wondered how the Watchers were going to use them.
My next step was contacting Borland and arranging the Crabstrocity to deliver the cargo to three destinations: the castles of the Enemy, Heroes, and Watchers. The timing was urgent; it had to be done before the beginning of the first battle. To my surprise, I didn’t even have to double his payment as an incentive. Despite the Northerners’ castle being under siege, he agreed to take a risk, only asking for his astral nave to be covered by a war raid upon his arrival in case the Pandas or their allies decided to drop on him.
Looking for special items, such as scrolls or artifacts powered with epic-level destructive spells, took some time. As usual for a big war, the market had been combed through, and the best items were already gone. I managed to buy a couple of Meteor Strikes, a Spear of Kroan ritual, one purple Summon Minotaur, and a dozen Air Swords — small potatoes, really. Hopefully, the clan storage had something more impressive.
After running a brief analysis, I came to a disappointing conclusion: Pandorum’s traders were monitoring the market and buying out all valuable AOE spells. If I wanted to outstrip them, I would have to either watch those auction lots 24/7 or contact the sellers directly. I had no time for that. I also noticed that our enemies were actively buying ellurite; all types of this resource were steadily rising in price. It made sense; constant movements of the astral fleet consumed a lot of fuel.
Finally, I got some sweet revenge: with a nice chime, the loot taken from the bounty hunters back in the Hole went on the open auction. My inventory was almost empty. I thought a bit and forwarded the link to the articles to Ran Dom, the most personable of that trio. Let them fight for the set items; it should only increase the price.
Thrainul’s contract brought me some joy as well. The cargo taken from the Hole was already waiting for me at the auction warehouse of the Bazaar. So the submarine captain had managed to evade the annoying pursuit and fulfill our agreement! The legendary ingredients and other loot from the Guardian turned out to fetch an impressive price, as I found out after studying the market for equivalent listings. In total, the appraised items amounted to two hundred thousand gold buying and three hundred thousand selling. Some of them had no price in the first place — such objects had never been sold at the Bazaar and were absent from the auction history. Maybe I should become a unique monster hunter. It seemed to be an exceedingly lucrative sport!
Of course, I could put them up at an uncapped price, selling them to the highest bidder. Still, upon second thought, I decided to slow down a little. Rare wares were a trump card. Instead of simply selling them, I could use them as a favor to set up a contact I might need. I could always refer to the Club, the Russian-speaking community of Bazaar traders that included all local tycoons. Of course, they comprised only a small part of all the business sharks circling the main trade hub of Sphere, but they had their own connections and know-how, as well as the contacts of people who controlled various market segments. After all, connections and information were the most valuable thing in the world.
Yes, information. Not so long ago, I had meticulously studied the political situation in the Sphere of Worlds, delving into statistics and questioning those in the know. I had always been interested in stuff like that. Knowing the landscape allowed one to predict future events and make plans. Clans, alliances, multi-game communities that played the key roles in Sphere — that’s what I was interested in.
Hird was one of them. A large Russian-speaking alliance, it united tens of thousands of players from Eastern Europe and the Confederation, mostly thanks to its pointed internationality and, truth be told, low entry requirements. Hird accepted everyone — newbies, blatant carebears, and dyed-in-the-wool PVP fans. Players who preferred peaceful professions and crafting fared there the best. Numbers-wise, Hird had long since surpassed all other Russian alliances put together and gained more influence with each new cycle of Sphere. Hird always tried to buy instead of conquering. If they couldn’t buy, they attempted to use diplomacy. They only waged war if they had no choice. At first, they had suffered losses, slowly earning experience and becoming more
