Like many others, Marc was convinced by On Galtans. Thankfully, he doesn't have a family to bring with him; he just wants two passenger spots, for him and his right-hand man, and a teleport wizard with a Bag of Holding. He hears you can cram slips into them and they'll probably come out alive on the other side. He had been hoping to ship out his hundred slaves on a ship to Katapesh, but the port is closed, and if the rumor is to be believed, won't be reopened while slavery is still legal. If he's going to start over in Merab, better to do so with some of his stock than none.

Albà laughs at him. "I can't get you a teleport out of the city for that, not today or tomorrow. Maybe next week."

Next week is too late! This fucker knows it's too late.

"Good luck finding someone. I'll buy whatever you're leaving behind, so keep me in mind."

Here’s a guy with some teleports prepared and nothing  better to do today. “Name, destination, cargo?”

"Marc Solari. Anywhere with a good slave market; Absalom if you can manage it, Merab if you can't." He knows a bit about teleport logistics, that some wizards can only reach some cities, but isn't an expert. "I have one attendant and as many halflings as you can bear; you have a Bag of Holding, I hope?"

“Two passengers and a full bag of holding to Absalom. Can do. I’m in a hurry, so if you’re ready before the hour is up I’ll take off the extra fees for making me use the bottle of air and for making me get the bag cleaned after.”

He wasn't going to pay the extra fees for the Bottle of Air, so good thing it's free.

An hour... he does some quick math. "Yes, that's doable." He hands over a small, pre-written card with his name and address on it. "This is my warehouse in the Rego Pena. I'll head there now and prepare everything; we'll be ready to leave as soon as you arrive. Can I pay you in dollars?"

Albà is listening in, and is staring at Lisandro more intently than the other merchants here.

“A moment, let me check the exchange rates.”

Does he really have a spell to detect the relative value of currencies? No, wizards haven’t figured out an arcane version of that one yet, it’s just for abadarans. Does he want an excuse to message the wizard staring at him? Yes. 

It’s clear he was trying the old strategy of ‘name a high price and wait until they realize it’s the only price’ but that comes with risks. Like someone else offering a better price. 

message: this one’s my passenger now, what do you want? 

Albà wanted to know who this wizard was, since you need to be at least 6th circle to make it to Absalom in one hop. He is an expert in teleport logistics.

reply: Just the brokerage commission. If you want more work, I'm at 51 Carrer de Castella next time you're around. And it's 100:13.

Factors and their commissions. Wants a piece of every deal he happens to be in the same room as, does he? Abadar declare a rate level increase. 

message: Double commission for this one, in gold, if you never saw me here. I usually have a reputation to uphold.

Commission? But he didn't arrange... ah, Albà gets it. He would have checked in on Solari. And he thinks he knows who this is, now. 

reply: Sure thing.

“I’ve got the rates. Here’s the price in dollars.”

Pretending he actually does have an exchange rate detecting spell is fun. Maybe he’ll give the broker a bit extra on top of the commission for letting him know. 

Here’s a price, outrageous but not that outrageous considering the circumstances. 

It is outrageous! But Marc has lived in Cheliax for many years, and knows in his bones to not rage at a powerful wizard, and can feel the room's interest in their deal. He needs to cinch it before someone else butts in with a better offer. He puts out his hand. "Done, let's shake on it."

“Deal.”

He has the location and time done with already. Handshake and then he vanishes into thin air. 

Reappearing on a nearby street corner. Time to find that office and pay off that broker. 

Marc spots Albà on his way out. "Can we walk and talk?" The bag will fit a bit less than 30 halflings, plus a passenger, but he thinks he knows which of supply to keep and try to pawn off.

Sure, he'll buy 70 slaves, and the warehouse. He can't afford to pay full price upfront, but he has a bank account in Absalom and is guaranteed by a reputable mercantile house there. How about we write out a loan agreement, paid off in Absalom pounds over the next five years?

There's just enough haggling over details to obscure Albà's excitement; his poker face is good.

The interest rate is going to have to be generous, but it is. And "non-transferrable" in the agreement barely stands out to him--he's a trader of halflings in bondage, not bonds.

They sign, he hands over the deeds, and he and his overseer start corralling the cargo.

Albà stops by his office to drop off his new deeds and check for messages.

There’s a purse full of coin on the table, as promised.

The overseer's whip cracks a few times as they split them up. It's a weight limit, so he thinks it's better to include all the children. They knock out two legs to turn a table into a ramp; set the bag up beneath it, the halflings march up the table and fall into the bag, and they can all be in a minute, Marc thinks. He spends his time collecting his papers and cash, opens his vault and starts sewing jewels into his sleeves. His personal slave packs their bags; he'll be the one holding hands in the teleport, Marc thinks.