Prices correct on 29th November 2016
The prices used are either that of items bought or sold from NPC shops, or a reasonable price of the combined cost of its ingredients. For example, the pastry cost fourteen coins minus the one coin refund for the pot (thirteen coins), and the pie dish would have cost three coins if he had bought them, so the pie shell would have cost him sixteen coins. For him to sell it for forty coins to a citizen of Varrock, isn't unrealistic and means he more than doubles his money.
The Grand Exchange has been tweaked to make it more realistic in a world environment. Now people have to deposit items in a bank (any bank) and receive a note. This note is what is sold through the G.E. and the person who receives the note exchanges it for the item (or arranges for it to be delivered to the bank of their choice and then makes the exchange). This means that the G.E. isn't in charge of storing a large amount of items, rather they are stored across the banking world. People can sell their produce and organise transport accordingly. For example, someone from Al Kharid can sell a thousand coal to someone in Ardougne, without having to transport it to the G.E. and from the G.E. to Ardougne.
"Thank you, Boric, it's much appreciated." Urist growled in his thick dwarven accent. Boric had just arrived from his father's infamous smithy, with a cart of coal, gold, silver and iron ores.
"It's fine, I'm grateful for a few days away from the heat o' the furnace, and farthen's constant grumblings."
"Everything you need is in the chest under the stall." Boric grunted and took a seat on the wooden stool. Urist mounted the cart and whistled to the horse.
The road south took him past the general store and the Blue Moon Inn. The buildings of Varrock had scars of disrepair, with stones missing from the walls, fallen roof tiles and even walls that hadn't been completely built yet.
One of the guards nodded to Urist as he passed through the gate, the others paid no attention, fixing their stare firmly on the road in front of them.
I suspect they're keeping the druids in the corner of their eye too.
Urist took the path to the east to now attract their attention. A scattering of trees gave way to a cluster of rocks that Urist recognised. He tethered the horse to a nearby tree and knelt down to examine the rocks. Iron, clay, silver, tin and copper were present. Urist threw the cover of the cart back and lumbered the pickaxe over his shoulder. With a half hour of strenuous chipping away, Urist gathered the various ores on to the cart and once more starting his way along the road.
A small stone bridge wasn't far from the rock patch. Urist pulled his horse to a halt and observed the river. To the south east, it ran to Lumbridge and to the north west, it ran past the Barbarian Village and up to Edgeville. Urist reminisced of his trip to the river at the Barbarian Village just days ago. Every Sunday was his day to go fishing and recently he had found a patch of the river where he was more successful than normal. He didn't catch many fish, but more fish were caught at the Barbarian Village than his present location and Edgeville. His favourite fish at this location was salmon, especially when he had chance to smoke it for a couple of days first, but trout and pike were more frequent.
A splash brought Urist back to his surroundings. He looked down and saw an adventurer passing on a dugout.
"Where are you off to, young sir?" Urist shouted.
"The pub at Barbarian Village, to see a merchant about a gemstone. What about you?"
"Lumbridge, to see a man about a dog."
If he knows I'm knowledgeable about gemstones, he may drag me along with him.
"Sounds like you're barking mad." The adventurer laughed. Urist just grinned.
"Good day to you, sir."
"You too." The adventurer started paddling again and off Urist went. By the time he reached Beefy Bill, the sun was about to set. Beefy Bill was packing away his trading cart and nodded to Urist as he approached.
"Have you any room for a traveller?" Urist asked.
"Aye, if you're willing to help gather wood and make a fire." Urist nodded and dismounted, tethering the horse to the back of the caravan store. He looked around at the trees and spotted one that was starting to age down by the riverbank. The hatchet hung from his tool belt and glinted as he unsheathed it. It held quite softly in his hand, much more lightly than the pickaxe did and this made it possible to swing much more easily at the tree.
Urist observed his surroundings as he felled the tree. Seth Groats' large wheat field could be seen and the back of his chicken coop from a particular angle, the chicken's squawk's could just be made out.
Half hour past by the time he had the tree felled, and another half hour before he had some logs cut ready for the fire. Bill had packed his stall away and fetched some raw beef ready for their tea. Urist sheaved his hatchet and pulled out his tinder box, striking it vigorously until a flame appeared.
"Let's get this barbeque started." Bill chuckled, placing a frying pan, with the beef already in it, on the fire. "Where abouts are you from?"
"Keldagrim, but I grew up in the Dwarven Mine. What about you?
"Yanille. Grew up surrounded by merchants passing through Port Khazard, made a few coins giving them a hand."
"How did you become a merchant?"
"I got a job transporting fish from the river north of Ardougne into Ardougne, boxing it and transporting it across the city. There was quite a large supply of fish that was untouched and figured, if I could find a way of preserving it, I could transport it as far as Falador and Varrock. A merchant introduced me to a mineral called salt."
"Aye, I've heard of that." Urist grunted.
"If used correctly, it can preserve uncooked food. Before long, I was transporting fish across these lands."
"What happened?"
"What do you mean?"
"How did you end up selling out the back of a gypsy caravan?"
"It's not a gypsy caravan, it's a trade caravan!" Bill looked to the ground in front of him and looked quite distained. "People cottoned on and too many of them started fishing, the prices dropped to the floor; the sea floor."
"I'm sorry to hear that. At least you've still got a way of keeping your head above water." Urist secretly chuckled to himself and turned the beef over. A while passed before Bill brought himself to restart the conversation.
"So what brings you south?"
"I have a crafting supplies stall in Varrock, but a friend who has a furnace near Taverley has recently received a large order from the white knights. He hasn't the time to complete his smaller order, so wants me to do them for him."
"Oh." Bill looked quite stunned. "Isn't there any furnaces in Varrock?"
"Nay. Anvil's, but not furnaces."
"Seems a shame to come all this way for a furnace."
"It is. But it's gotta be done."
"Crafting, you say. I have some cowhides you may be interested in."
"How much are they? And how many you got?"
"I have fifty. Was trying to get two hundred coins each for them but they're not selling, I'll do them for a hundred and fifty each if you buy 'em all."
"I haven't enough money, even if I visited the bank." Urist's smile dropped to a melancholy look. Bill thought for a moment.
"Are you in any rush to sort out your smelting?" Urist shook his head. "I've got a load of empty pots that I just can't budge. There's a wheat field and a mill south of here. Fill the pots with flour and the money I make from selling them will cover the cowhides."
"Are you sure?"
"Aye. Nothing like an old fashioned bit of bartering to see us through." Urist smiled and nodded. He forked the beef onto the plates and passed one over to Bill. They ate joyously and spent the evening talking about past times.
Urist awoke to the smell of sardines cooking. Bill was prodding them with a knife.
"Rise and shine, sleepy head." Urist grunted and sat up, staring hungrily at the sardines. Bill used the knife to spoon them onto plates and passed one over. Urist used his fork from last night to decimate them like a ravenous cat. "Blimey! You're hungry." Bill passed over his plate, Urist looked stunned. "It's alright, I've got some more on the cart." Urist snatched the plate and devoured those sardines too. Bill pulled a wheelbarrow full of empty pots from under his cart and sat it next to the camp. He returned to the cart and started fiddling around for the sardines.
"Is it fine to start on these pots?" Urist shouted over.
"Go ahead, my friend." Bill didn't turn around and just waved at Urist, who left the plates and fork on the log he was sitting on and hurried off with the cart. The wheat field and mill were only five minutes' walk away, but Urist noted the mill had three floors. Whilst that was fine, with Urist's physicality, he was sure he was going to be out of breath with all the stair climbing by the end of the morning.
And sure enough, he was. Each bail of wheat had to be carried to the top floor before it could be milled. Once the grinder was full with flour at the bottom, he had enough to fill five pots. He had sixty pots in total.
Early afternoon, he returned to Bill and handed the wheelbarrow over.
"Thank you, good sir. I have loaded the cowhides on to your cart for you already. It has been a pleasure, and if you're ever in the area again, pop back and see me." Urist offered his hand and Bill shook it. Urist mounted and Bill un-tethered the horse for him, slapping it's rear end to get it moving.
Past the wheat field and mill, and past a field of cabbage, Urist came to a chicken coup on the west side of the river to Seth Groats' east riverbank coup. A farmer was picking eggs and putting them into a bucket as Urist whistled over the slate wall. The farmer looked and made his way to the wall.
"How can I help?"
"I was wondering if you'd put me up for the night?"
"Have you the means to pay?"
"Not with coins, but I can run errands, and I don't mind sleeping in the coup as long as the chickens don't bite." The farmer had to think for a few moments.
"When I've filled this bucket with eggs, could you take it to Seth across the river? Ask him to put them with the other eggs and fill the bucket with milk, then bring the bucket of milk back here. Could you do that?"
"Certainly." Urist waited for the bucket to be filled, and made haste. He passed the training ground, a goblin, the furnace and crossed the bridge, up past Gillie and her milking cows and knocked on Seth's door. A few minutes past and Seth didn't answer the numerous knocks, so Urist walked around the corner to the coup and spotted Seth.
"Sir, I'm here to give you these eggs. The farmer across the river sent me. He said he's like his bucket emptying and filling with milk, please." Seth nodded and fulfilled the request, passing the empty bucket back to Urist.
"If you ask Gillie over there, she'll fill the bucket with milk."
"Thank you. Do you by any chance sell your produce?"
"Aye, normally in Lumbridge, but will sell them to anyone with coin. I sell raw chickens for sixty coins, eggs for four coins, raw beef for fifty nine coins, feathers for six coins and cowhides for twenty coins."
That's very cheap on the cowhides.
"How many have you of each?"
Seth huffed as he thought about it. "Sixteen chickens, eighty six eggs, a hundred feathers, fourteen beef and fourteen cowhides."
That's three thousand and ten coins.
"If I buy them all without haggling, would you put me up for the night tomorrow? I don't mind sleeping in the coup."
"Aye, I'd do that.
"I'll take them all then, but hold them back until I arrive tomorrow, please." Seth shook his hand. Urist took the bucket to Gillie and swapped it for an already full bucket of milk. Urist had to wrestle with his posture to carry the full bucket across uneven terrain without spilling any milk, but he took his time and finally made it.
The farmer thanked him and informed him that tea would be ready in an hour. Urist led his cart by foot to the smithy and tied his horse to the railing of the training arena. He smelted the iron ore into four bars and hammered them into two pickaxes. He did the same with the copper and tin, into hatchets. Before he knew it, the hour was up and he rushed to take the cart back to the farm.
"Your tea's going cold." The farmer called as Urist burst through the door.
"I'm terribly sorry." He replied, hanging his coat on the door knob. He ran over and took his place, tucking into the omelette in front of him.
"I have a blanket ready for you on the chair by the door." Urist nodded as he ate. "I'll need you to take a tray of cheese over to Seth in the morning and bring back two buckets of milk. Then the eggs will need collecting, and swapping again like this evening." Urist nodded and scoffed the last of his food. Before the farmer could speak, Urist left the table, grabbed his coat and blanket, and left. He settled down for the night in between the door and the dairy churn. Just as he got comfy, rain started pouring; some thundering against the tiles of the porch way and some avoiding it's protection and reaching Urist's blanket. The chickens didn't take lightly to the rain either, causing a flurry of squawking which was a lot louder than it had been the evening before. To make things worse, Urist wasn't entirely sure if he could afford the products he had ordered from the farmer.