Hard Bargain

The shopkeeper busied himself with his appraisal, I glanced around the shop, the weight of my decision settling heavily on my shoulders. Parting with the brooch felt like relinquishing a piece of my identity, a tangible link to a past that was now shrouded in mystery.

After what felt like an eternity, the shopkeeper returned, a small smile playing on his lips. "I must commend you, sir. This brooch is quite valuable indeed."

Relief washed over me, mingled with a pang of regret. "How much will you offer?"

The shopkeeper slid a small bundle of notes across the counter, his smile genial but tinged with a hint of calculation. I hesitated for a moment, my mind racing as I assessed the situation. From the moment I had entered the city of Babel, I had observed the intricacies of its markets, noting the small details that determined the true worth of currency and goods.

Here in babel I learn they use currency, what they call krass. It had three notes, golden, silver and bronze. 20 bronze means one silver but 100 silver makes one gold krass. A very unique and unusual system.

In the marketplace outside, I had seen the charges for services and goods —a carriage ride cost three to Five silver krass, a cup of tea cost one, a loaf of bread two, and even a simple newspaper fetched one. These observations gave me a wedge idea of the city's economy, and I had seen another customer pay 10 golden karss for a gold ring little smaller than the brooch I held in my hand. So It was clear to me the shopkeeper was giving somewhat fair price.

"Twelve gold krass," the shopkeeper repeated, his tone suggesting finality.

He named a sum that exceeded my expectations, but i knew i can get more if i press a little. I picked up the broock and yraced its design again and examined it closely, pretending to simpathies its quality while thinking of my next move. "Twelve golden krass," I echoed, keeping my tone neutral. "It's certainly a respectable offer, but I believe this brooch holds more value than that."

The shopkeeper's smile faltered slightly, sensing my hesitation. "Sir, I assure you, twelve is a generous offer for such an item," he replied, his tone smooth but now tinged with caution.

I met his gaze evenly, "it isn't just about gold it has, it's about the design, you wouldn't find such a craft in locality." I remarked casually, letting the implication sink in. "Surely, this brooch should be valued accordingly."

The shopkeeper hesitated, clearly reconsidering his initial assessment of me as an easy mark. "Sir, I must also consider the possibility that this item may be stolen," he said softly, leaning in to whisper the accusation.

Outwardly, I maintained a calm smile, but inwardly, I cursed my luck. It was a common tactic, and one that threatened to undermine my negotiation. I took a deep breath, knowing I had to handle this delicately.

"Stolen?" I replied with edgy tone. "Are you suggesting I'm thief sir, this brooch is a family heirloom," I replied evenly, meeting his gaze with unwavering confidence. "I have the utmost respect for its provenance, don't test my tolerance with such an accusation, just because I'm in peculiar circumstances st the moment." the words left my lips in sharp tone, my authorative voice matching my arestrocrate appearance.

The shopkeeper studied me carefully, and hasitated, weighing his options; after all no one wants to risk provoking a higher echolmans. "Very well," he said at last, his tone cautious but now tinged with a hint of respect. "I can offer you fourteen coins."

I shook my head gently, maintaining eye contact. "Fifteen," I countered smoothly, my tone firm but polite.

The shopkeeper's eyes narrowed slightly, recognizing the invisible clash of words that had unfolded between us. "Sir, you drive a hard bargain," he remarked, a note of admiration creeping into his voice.

"I merely seek fair compensation for a valued possession," I replied, my tone measured.

He sighed softly, conceding a grudging smile. "Fourteen and a half," he offered finally, attempting a compromise.

I considered his offer, knowing I had pushed him nearly to his limit. "Fifteen," I reiterated firmly, refusing to back down.

After a moment of tense silence, the shopkeeper sighed again, a mixture of frustration and respect evident in his expression. "Fifteen gold krass it is," he agreed reluctantly, counting out the additional notes and adding them to the pile.

I also handed over the brooch to him, it pained me to part with something my family had held for so long, but there was no other choice and had to be done. 'Atlest it served a porpouse in. The end,' i thought and nodded to wards the shopkeeper, pocketing the notes with a nod of thanks.

"Thank you for your understanding," I said politely, masking my reluctance to part with the brooch.

As I turned to leave the shop, I couldn't help but smirk inwardly. I now had considerable amount of money and i had even managed to get uper hand in negotiation. It was a small victory, but it reassured me that I could navigate the unfamiliar waters of Babel with more than just luck. My social skills and keen eye for detail had proven invaluable, allowing me to secure a fair price for the brooch that now funded my journey into the heart of this enigmatic city.

With a newfound confidence, I ventured back into the bustling streets of Babel, the weight of the notes in my pocket a tangible reminder of my ability to adapt and thrive in this strange, enchanting place. The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but armed with my wits and determination, I was ready to uncover the truth hidden within Babel's labyrinthine heart.