Sigurd discovered the article pasted on a market board outside the Quicksand and studied it closely with utter delight gleaming in his eyes. Â "Ama-teuuuurs," he muttered in slurred speech, alcohol leeching from his breath after a night of binge drinking.
Laughing Armaments had become a pesky business rival in the Magitek armament industry. Â It had a terrible habit of creating innovative new products that drove down both the demand and price of comparable Magitek weapons manufactured by Ebonbrand Teknoworks. Â The news regarding Laughing Armaments' "unfortunate" loss of proprietary Magitek trade secrets was an unexpected pleasure.
Sigurd mocked the purported statements of Laughing Armaments' President, muttering: "Th-thu-this act 'goes against progress?" Â He then embarked on the following long-winded drunken tirade:
"This is, hic, an act of great progress, hic, and f-fabulous news! Â Gonna cor-corner the market now! Ole' Lo-hengrin is gonna be shitting himself and licking his wounds for weeks! Â Time to flood the market with our Magitek shit and price them into the ground! Â M-must find who did this and give them a few bottles of wine on the house!"
Sigurd mumbled a few more thoughts about finding the saboteurs, purchasing the prototypes at low cost, modifying the design, and then selling the similar product at inflated prices. Â Unfortunately, a nagging high-pitched voice barked at him through the small link-pearl in his ear, lecturing him to "return home this instant." Â Although his new "home" in Gridania lacked the bustle of Ul'Dah, at least Gridania's lavender beds had lower crime rates in a pleasant wooded setting.
Laughing Armaments had become a pesky business rival in the Magitek armament industry. Â It had a terrible habit of creating innovative new products that drove down both the demand and price of comparable Magitek weapons manufactured by Ebonbrand Teknoworks. Â The news regarding Laughing Armaments' "unfortunate" loss of proprietary Magitek trade secrets was an unexpected pleasure.
Sigurd mocked the purported statements of Laughing Armaments' President, muttering: "Th-thu-this act 'goes against progress?" Â He then embarked on the following long-winded drunken tirade:
"This is, hic, an act of great progress, hic, and f-fabulous news! Â Gonna cor-corner the market now! Ole' Lo-hengrin is gonna be shitting himself and licking his wounds for weeks! Â Time to flood the market with our Magitek shit and price them into the ground! Â M-must find who did this and give them a few bottles of wine on the house!"
Sigurd mumbled a few more thoughts about finding the saboteurs, purchasing the prototypes at low cost, modifying the design, and then selling the similar product at inflated prices. Â Unfortunately, a nagging high-pitched voice barked at him through the small link-pearl in his ear, lecturing him to "return home this instant." Â Although his new "home" in Gridania lacked the bustle of Ul'Dah, at least Gridania's lavender beds had lower crime rates in a pleasant wooded setting.
