Tarvorres stared at Auctioneer Yarly in disgust.
"What do you mean they're up to three gold?"
"Just as I said," the undead replied blithely. "All the Agile Boots currently availiable are being auctioned by one Phillipus for three gold, thirty three silver."
"But that's over one-thousand percent markup," Tarvorres was incredulous. "They go for twenty silver at the Sepulcher."
"Fools and money are quickly parted." He smirked. "I seem to recall a certain Sin'dorei selling them for eighty-five silver a pair just yesterday. Master Phillipus purchased them from you, if memory serves- and promptly relisted them at the current price."
She wasn't sure what was worse, the smugness of the Forsaken, or their smell.
"Fine. Two pairs, ninety silver each. If I can't sell them to actual customers, I want to at least cut into that bastard's margins. How's the Defias gear looking?"
"Still thirty a slot, my lady. Have you a bid?"
"You know I don't, Yarly, don't be cheeky."
"I haven't any cheek to give, Mistress Noonshade. They've rotted off."
Ugh. Undead humor.
"I ought to go into the black market vanity pet business. How are moths selling these days?"
"Holding steady at four gold. Purchasable only from vendors in the Exodar and Shattrath. How do you plan on securing them, if I may ask?"
"Never you mind. Keep your eye on that for me, Yarly. I'll be back."