Trade goods

Naturally, almost anything can be bought and sold—and is—across the Realms. Ranging from the pervasive to the esoteric, here are a few of the most noteworthy examples of what Faerunians produce, purchase, and covet.

Mongery

“Mongery” is the usual Realms term for nails and more exotic fasteners, hinges, hasps, hooks, and the various straps, bolts, framing irons, and the like used in building doors and windows and their frames. Not to mention pots, pans, caul¬drons, spits, trivets—and horseshoes. In other words, anything made of metal that’s not a tool or a weapon.
There are thousands of smiths in the Realms, with the usual wide variety of skills, and they all work to create countless thousands of metal things folk want to buy. The pace of their creation almost keeps pace with the destruction of rust, hard wear, and extreme cold. So there’s “always good trade in useful things made of metal.”
In the 1370s DR, screws and threaded bolts are “holy secrets of Gond,” and pretty much limited to temples and to furniture and special devices built, guarded, and used only by priests of that god. “Link bolts” are created by dwarf and gnome smiths, and by human smiths up and down the Sword Coast and around the shores of
the Shining Sea. However, these link bolts are the threadless sort: a rod pierced by a hole that can be filled with a pin or a wedge. In use, the rod is run through a hole in a timber or a stone block, and the pin is applied to the hole on its far side to keep the rod from being pulled back through. Shim- wedges are used when it is necessary to make the fastening secure and rigid rather than loose.
Metal strap hinges with simple, single pivot pins are known and widely used, as are rigid angle-braces of the same design. These angle- braces lack a hinge, and instead feature a bent right angle of metal. Both hinges are used to protect and strengthen the corners and sides of carry-chests and strongchests. Hook-and- eye catches are known but are used only for small-sized, interior projects. Seasonal freez¬ing problems make larger and exterior usages of hook-and-eye catches rare in the North.
Nails, spikes, and wedges (wooden, metal, and stone) are known everywhere, though only dwarves and gnomes make and work with stone ones, and wooden ones are less popular due to weathering and short-life problems. Delicate work such as needles and wire tends to be rare and ex¬pensive, except in Calimshan and the Tashalar.
Most mongery production among humans is performed by smiths hand-making what is press¬ingly needed plus a few extra for sale. Apprentices are often kept busy making nails and spikes, so successful smiths tend to build up a fairly impres¬sive inventory of nails and spikes of all sizes, as well as hooks and “eye spikes” (nails made for driving into tree trunks or wooden walls, with a long shaft made for fashioning into a ring on which one can fasten ropes).
However, there are mass makers of mongery, including surface human foundries, in Waterdeep, Amn (several), Tethyr, Sembia, Turmish, Calim¬shan (many), and the Tashalar (many).
In Cormyr, there are five very busy local smiths but no mongery-only foundries. One in Arabel sells much of its wares either in Suzail or to the wider Realms through the docks of Suzail, with a trickle of trade flowing through the Dales to the Moonsea. This foundry is known as Garth- en’s Hammer, after the now-aging smith Askarl Garthen. Askarl Garthen is a human whose fam¬ily came from Everlund, and his own numerous children and grandchildren work and run the foundry to this day.
Garthen’s Hammer is a series of connected buildings on the north side of the street that runs right through Arabel, just inside High Horn Gate. It was formerly across the street, due south of its current location, but it expanded into the prem¬ises of a decaying old inn, and Garthen sold his former location to a wealthy and ambitious Su- zailan merchant. The merchant, one Handren Tharmarklor, tore down the old smithy and built on its site a mixed-shops complex that he rents out. Tharmarklor himself inhabits the upper¬most three floors of Tharspire—the tower that rises from the northwesternmost building of the Tharmarklor’s Doors complex. Garthen more or less permanently rents the southernmost House of Thond warehouse for his inventory of nails, spikes, axe heads, hooks, eye-spikes, door plates (both kickplates and lockplates), and strap hinges. Traders’ wagons run almost constantly from this warehouse to Suzail and elsewhere. Garthen himself takes no part in marketing his wares, re-stricting himself to selling from his premises in Arabel.
Glass is common in some parts of the Realms and as rare as gold and gems in others. In most places, windows are leaded affairs of many small panes, rather than huge, rectangular unbroken panes. Moreover, most glass is “shifty”—full of bubbles and uneven thicknesses and whorls that distort reflections and anything seen through them. Shutters are the norm: in winter, full overlapping boards sealed with pitch, and in summer, slats over which layers of gauze are tacked. The gauze keeps the insects out, and if the dust gets bad, occupants wet down the gauze to impede it. The abodes of the poor have shutters but lack glass, and some homes have frames around openings into which boards are slid on a daily basis, but precious glass can be used on special occasions, such as royal visits and marriages.
In most parts of the Dales, drinking vessels are made of carved wood, soak-sealed leather, or ceramic, and a “glass glass” is regarded as an incredible luxury. After all, why make a drink¬ing vessel out of something breakable, when glass is so expensive? The wealthy tend to favor glass drinking vessels to flaunt their wealth. They capitalize on this display of wealth by concocting social rituals that involve the deliberate hurl¬ing and shattering of glasses. (A “tallglass,” the etched wineglass of the wealthier Realms, is something like a champagne flute but slightly larger. Capacity varies, but in real-world measure¬ments, it usually holds around 10 ounces.)
Mica is used in place of window glass in areas where it can be easily found and mined, and some dwarf and gnome clans know how to cut certain types of stone very thin, producing slabs that admit a glow of light when set into window frames.
Homemade ceramics and copper cups in daily use have a maker’s mark on the base and a sin¬gle badge-like design on the bowl or body that identifies the owner. (“That’s my cup—see?”) Commercial pieces are either decorated with badges, runes, or devices for specific buyers or¬dering such finishes, or they have a few simple decorations to encourage someone at a market to purchase them.
A typical Dales ceramic drinking vessel has a flat, rough, unfinished base that flares inward slightly. The outside walls of the cup are either vertical or slightly convex, and the inside resem¬bles a smooth bowl. The base and the handle are often dark brown, the lip usually a natural clay hue. The middle of the body is usually glazed a deep blue, and the body is often decorated with repeating waves, stippling drawn with a finger, or even a series of fingertip impressions to outline a face, sun, or flower head.
Ceramic containers share several kinds of adornments with copper vessels. For instance, some have a bearded smiling face sculpted in re¬lief on the body, across from the handle; some have a handle shaped like the head and scaled neck of a serpent, a wyvern, or a dragon, some¬times with a suggestion of wing outlined across the body of the vessel; and some have an oval frame on one or both sides of the body, enclos¬ing a scene. Such a frame is often shaped to look like a snake biting its own tail, or a sword belt with various elaborate buckles. The scenes inside these frames are sometimes of birds or the heads of animals (stags are popular), but are more often simplified scenes of heroism, such as a lone knight defending a bridge against many mounted foes, a man wrestling off a hungry bear, or a depiction of a local legend. A couple of popular local legends are a wronged wife turning into a dragon or a swan, and a castle cracking and falling because its owner broke his word or lost a bet.
Many folk imbibe out of a drinking-jack, which is a beast’s horn or the ceramic equivalent fitted with a frame and feet to hold it upright when it is not being held in the hand.
In the cities of Amn, Tethyr, Calimshan, and Sembia, and in Waterdeep, glass is relatively com¬mon, and there are even glass ornaments for sale.

Exotic Trade Woods

Certain rare woods of the Realms have value as trade goods because of innate properties that make them ideal for carved furnishings and household objects. The wood of the barausk tree, found in Harrowdale and Deepingdale, has the hardness of iron (once the green wood is dry). Rosecork, native to the Inner Sea isle of Prespur, is virtually fireproof and thus increasingly popu¬lar with builders.
When cut to expose its grain, barausk is dark brown mottled with gray-green to the casual glance. When it is more closely examined, the gray-green tinges come from places where the grain is folded back in on itself very tightly. The grain of barausk looks like a maze, or like meat¬balls resting in much-folded spaghetti, or like the “crazed” banding that surrounds burls in other woods. The wood dulls or breaks blades when dry, but can be readily cut when wet and green, or after being soaked in water for a day or so. Spray¬ing the wood with water repeatedly for a few days will make the surface soft to a depth of only about a finger-width; once this much is carved away, the newly exposed surface must be wetted again to soften the wood for deeper carving. Dry barausk turns brittle—and stays that way—if heated, but otherwise is both iron-hard and durable.
Rosecork, on the other hand, is useless for de¬tailed carving work because it splits along its grain readily and cleanly. This same property makes it ideal for inlays, building panels, and the like. It has a pleasant light, reddish, speckled wood-grain appearance akin to that of the more abundant and familiar cork tree. It absorbs and holds moisture, which is one of the reasons it resists fire—think of a wall that emits its own steam-sprinkler when exposed to heat. This quality makes untreated rosecork horribly susceptible to molds, and thus a good base for the deliberate growth of fungi for food or medicine, or for that matter for dungeon traps (at the bottom of a pit, for example). Certain herbal water concoctions, when brushed on rose¬cork, forever prevent spores from growing within the grain while allowing the wood to retain its wa¬ter-holding qualities. Though it is spongy to the touch, rosecork doesn’t leak water if it is sucked on, crushed, or prodded, though a thirsty person could slash a panel of rosecork and glean a few drops from each cut.

Smokepowder

This rare, legendary substance is viewed in most places in the Realms as unreliable and often con¬sidered “dangerous, corrupting magic.” Many colorful false beliefs about smokepowder abound among commoners, some of them due to false¬hoods spread deliberately.
Most places have strict rules about its importa¬tion and possession. Importing smokepowder into Cormyr during most of the 1300s DR requires a Crown license and a full explanation to a senior War Wizard, such as Vangerdahast, his second- in-command Laspeera, or one of the six or so mages a single step down from them, plus Ala- phondar or a court clerk. This explanation must include what the smokepowder is required for, where and how it will be stored, how soon it will be used, and so on.
In the case of someone officially trying to con¬quer the Stonelands, approval will be automatic so long as the Crown is satisfied that the smoke¬powder will be guarded well enough so that it won’t immediately fall into Zhent hands.
The interview process is kept as secret as pos¬sible to keep the information from the ears of treasonous nobles, and the license might come with conditions. Common conditions are that the smokepowder can’t be taken south of Waymoot, or into Arabel for any reason.
The license costs 500 gp, which pays for the deployment of two War Wizards and two Purple Dragon bodyguards, who become full-time spies watching over the licensed smokepowder. The precise strength of this watch isn’t shared with the importer of the smokepowder, but that person is warned that selling, giving away, or moving and hiding the stuff—particularly by trying to split it up and put small amounts in many places—will result in its immediate confiscation. 
What the importer isn’t told is that if this con-fiscation occurs, it will be carried out by dozens of War Wizards with Purple Dragon bodyguards, all of them acting with alertness, weapon and spell readiness, and ruthlessness in keeping with full wartime orders.
As for individuals creating their own smokepow- der in Cormyr, anyone trying to become Baron of the Stonelands is already under covert magical surveillance by the War Wizards. If such a person reports making more than around a handkeg’s volume of smokepowder, he or she very swiftly receives a visit from an unamused court official, bolstered by all of the above-mentioned force, who demands the purchase of a license and the assump¬tion of all the conditions described above.
In Waterdeep, smokepowder is banned, aside from what the City Guard possesses and very small amounts granted to specific Watchful Order magists for experimental purposes. Even those limited uses must be observed and supervised by city officials.
Smokepowder can be bought freely in the “wild” trading city of Scornubel (and in later years, in Mistshore and Downshadow). In Luskan and Westgate, small quantities can be purchased covertly, but any buyer invariably acquires an in¬terested trail of spies.

Lantan’s Works of Wonder

In pre-Spellplague times, two factors govern what fantastic gadgets from Lantan get into circulation in mainland Faerun: price and self-control.
Price is based on demand and the nature of buyers. How many folk will pay serious coin for, say, a clockwork toy, or even a clock, when the sun and local religious observances govern daily events and when no one makes or keeps appoint¬ments “by the minute” or “on the hour”? Palaces and temples have their own timekeeping, and no one else lives in accordance to a clock.
Self-control is the usual merchant’s internal battle between greed and the wider implications of selling an item. Really powerful weapons, beyond individual battlefield firearms and the printing press, which have already found their ways onto the mainland, are likely kept on Lan¬tan. Such items are sent out of Lantan only under strict conditions, such as having a Lan- tanese “minder” with them at all times, under the fiction that the gadget in question is so complex that it will keep working only under the supervi¬sion and maintenance of a trained Lantanese. In other words, young maverick inventors of Lantan are restricted in what they can export by their forward-looking seniors, who thanks to the reli¬gion of Gond have the moral authority to do so.
Lantan-made clockworks of great complexity are known mainly through rumors on the main¬land. Many nobles have complex toys, clocks, and even water clocks. However, full-sized clock¬work tin soldiers are another matter, thanks to the severe weather and the tasks a garrison must perform. If a client wants “dummy soldiers” that can march along the battlements, or move in very simple formations to block an entry arch, lower pikes, and fire (not aim) loaded crossbows, fine. If someone wants to rig a means of replac¬ing the windlass that each crossbow requires with a “mass-cranking” mechanism, also fine. If one desires a very slow way to power simple wagons or handcarts without steering them, or a means of helping to load cart-mounted cranes and winches, fine again. However, anything more complex is beyond the machining competence or mainte¬nance time (all that oiling!) of a lone Lantanese expert. Mechanicals can’t run on uneven ground or stairs, or use the judgment of living warriors that is required for even simple tasks such as aim¬ing at a visible foe, reacting with speed to enemy tactics, or doing anything else of the sort.
If the intent is to create metal men that ape the movements of a human controller (telefac¬toring), years of spell research are necessary. Additionally, such a pursuit requires a lot of space—courtyards and large chambers, not con¬fined passages or small rooms—for a cluster of rod-and-link-driven mechanicals to surround the human operator. Mechanicals that sprout from the faces of doors, and those that carry out repeated movements—threshing blades, for in¬stance, or devices that “fire arrows in a repeating high-medium-low pattern down a passage”—are both practical and deadly.
Not many rulers or law keepers seem to have yet realized that all manner of drugs, poisons, weapons, and contraband goods—if suffi¬ciently disguised—can be readily hidden “in plain sight” inside elaborate clockworks, and thereafter brought into close proximity to rul¬ers, important officials, or wealthy individuals.
It does seem that mind flayers, doppelgangers, kenkus, and others who regard civilized folk as prey, dupes, cattle, or potential victims have grasped this ruse all too well.

Scents and Perfumes

Many humans in Faerun use scents or perfumes on themselves and their surroundings. The term “perfume,” in contrast to “scent,” is increasingly used to mean stronger smells that can be used on objects or misted into the air to provide a lasting smell that masks less pleasant odors.
Most scents are made from natural substances such as plant saps and distillates, and beast ichors and organs, combined with each other along with herbs or spices. The base is usually alcohol dis¬tilled from vegetable sources. The source for most Waterdhavian vegetable alcohol is the nearby, sprawling temple-farm of Goldenfields.
The combinations and processes are secret, be¬cause it’s not easy to create scents that don’t stain garments and skin and are stable. Unstable scents tend to “go off,” rotting into a disgusting, sticky mess, or separate.
The price range for most scents is from 1 gp to 16 gp per flask, with less savory equivalents (the sort sold in Dock Ward, in Waterdeep) available for 4 sp to 3 gp per flask.
Guilds try to control scent-making in Water- deep and Cormyr. However, Waterdeep is so full of purveyors—independent alchemists; charlatans pretending to be alchemists; importers from the busy perfumers of Calimshan and the Tasha- lar; and elves, gnomes, halflings, and dwarves who make, use, and prefer their own traditional scents- that any guild control over perfume-mak¬ing is a mere fiction. Almost every shopkeeper has a bottle of something to sell you, as do most fest¬halls. (“Like how our staff smells? Take some of that home with you!”)
Some large-scale producers and some fairly well-known formulae do exist, resulting in many producers making very similar scents. Some of the most widely available and best-known scents are discussed below.
Bluestars: A blue translucent liquid with gold flecks, bluestars has a strong medicine smell until it is applied to the body of a humanoid, where¬upon it turns transparent and smells like fresh before-storm winds (with the exception of ores, on whom it smells like fresh-baked bread). It also instantly and lastingly banishes body odors and strong food-related smells such as curry and gar¬lic. The effects last for about a day. Bluestars is purportedly made from forest dew that has mir¬rored starlight, virgins’ tears, and a distillate of alicorn (unicorn horn), but in fact it contains none of these things. It is actually derived from a specific kind of clay, the powdered shells of a particular type of snail, and the saps of three weeds. The cost per flask (holding about a pint) is 220 gp—its high price due to its odor-banishing properties and alleged but false efficacy as a ward against poisons.
Darkdew: A scent that has been associated with dangerous women for nigh a century, this opaque black oily ointment is said to come from the Underdark and to have something to do with both the blood of monsters and the sweat of fe¬male drow. In truth, it is a combination of three plant oils, six herbs, and a distillate of slugs. It turns transparent upon contact with the skin, and it imparts a musky smell to the wearer for most of a day that most folk, from fey to goblinkin, find arousing. Darkdew tastes like black, bitter, unsug¬ared licorice. The cost per flask is 176 gp.
Harlyr: The cheapest widely known perfume in Waterdeep, harlyr (har-leer) is a rose red trans¬lucent liquid that feels slightly oily or gummy, and smells of nothing at all. When applied to the body of a humanoid (except for goblinkin), it turns transparent and sinks into the skin and for the next three hours or so, the wearer smells strongly of a clear and pleasant fragrance like that of freshly opened roses. If the wearer is a goblinkin, the smell is like scorched urine. Harlyr is cor¬rectly known to be made of nut oil, alcohol, and the sap of three abundant, nondescript field flow-ers. The cost per flask is 4 sp.
Jassal: Subtle but capable of wafting for long distances, jassal is a fashionable scent that looks like a blue-green translucent alcoholic drink and smells like ripe cherries. It feels chilly when ap¬plied to the body, turns transparent, and imparts that same cherry smell to the wearer for around six hours. It is widely believed to be made from cherries, alcohol, and some secret ingredient, but in fact is made from alcohol and the distilled roots of thistles, nettles, and three small flowering weeds. Priestesses of Loviatar long ago discovered that if a body drenched in jassal is whipped, the skin briefly feels intense, “on fire” pain, but heals itself of all scratches, weals, bruises, and other small wounds. The church of Loviatar now uses jassal in many rituals because of these properties. Jassal-coated flesh makes a loud, cracking sound when struck, and emits an intense cherry odor, even if the initial smell has faded almost to noth¬ing. The cost per flask is 140 gp.
Sunrise: A yellow-orange translucent liquid, sunrise smells like freshly grated lemons. On the body it turns transparent and imparts a minty smell with a citrus tang that lasts for around six hours. It is widely believed to be made from alco¬hol, various citrus fruits, and a secret ingredient. In fact, it is alcohol in which specific sorts of mus-sels, oysters, and snails have been boiled, with the addition of a few drops of the juice of a certain sort of melon, and more than a few drops of rab¬bit urine. The cost per flask is 20 gp.
Tanlarl: A reddish brown, oily ointment, tan- larl turns transparent and stops feeling oily upon contact with the skin. It smells of faint wood smoke before contact with a body, and on some bodies has no smell at all. However, on most fe¬male bodies it smells mildewy, and on most male bodies it smells warm and leathery, and the odor is very attractive to females. Tanlarl is widely be¬lieved to be made from the bodily secretions of rare monsters, but is in fact derived from vegeta¬ble oils, the livers of oxen, and certain herbs. The smell is a very strong aphrodisiac to ores and half- ores, who might be moved to accost beings they would otherwise shun. The cost per flask is 12 gp.

Rope, Chain, and Wire

From leather thongs, to thigh-thick mooring cables, to man-sized links of chain, to fine wire sharp enough to cut flesh, “coiled goods” are among the most useful and expensive everyday items in the Realms.
Everyone needs long, flexible lines of some sort. Sailors need rigged sails in order to voyage. Cooks need chains to hold pots over hearth fires. Caravan merchants need something to bind their precious loads in place. And miners and other climbers, such as adventurers, need something to aid them in ascending and descending.
Hempen ropes and fire-hardened jungle vines have seen such use for untold centuries, and chain has been known since the first dwarves, but the making of truly fine wire is still being perfected in the Realms as of 1350 DR, and that is a pro¬cess fated to continue for more than two centuries thereafter. In the mid-1300s DR, cable (ropes woven around a continuous wire core) is still un¬known, though the word “cable” is heard betimes, meaning a massive rope respected for its strength. Much wire is soft, brittle (and so easily snapped or severed where it has been kinked or bent more than once in the same spot), and thick.
Gnomes, and right behind them dwarves, are the most skilled crafters of fine wire and chain—and humans just can’t get enough of the stuff. Throughout the 1200s DR, the use of fine chain in jewelry and garment adornment blos-somed, increasing the demand for fine and even finer chain. The most popular variety of fine rope among humans is the thin, strong, flexible waxed cord of the sort preferred by thieves everywhere.
Blacksmiths who lack the skills or the right metal to make wire or fine chain know the value of making and keeping in stock sturdy hooks, open links, wall-rings, “strap-rings,” and other fasteners. Strap-rings are collars that go around pipes, posts, or columns and are affixed to rings that connect to a chain or rope. Such under¬stress fastenings break frequently, and someone desperate to buy a swift replacement knocks on a smithy’s door about as often.
Like food and fuel, coiled goods bring steady, high-coin sales. Every “manygoods” merchant tries to keep some coiled goods on hand, often keeping them in the strongchest that serves as his trading seat. (If he’s sitting on it, it’s diffi¬cult for someone to sneak away with it without him noticing.) Along with their stores of coiled goods, manygoods merchants keep a forge-chisel and two pairs of pliers for “doing off’ lengths for customers. Coiled goods are always bought by length, with long, unbroken pieces commanding the highest prices, because no one wants to climb down a mine shaft on a line made of short hunks of rope knotted together.

Salt

The salt trade is very important in the Realms, but not quite as vital as it has been in the real world for two reasons. One, there are other means of preservation, which was salt’s primary impor¬tance in the real world; and two, salt has never been as scarce in the Realms as it was in large areas of the real world. In Faerun you can always get some salt fairly cheaply from a nearby source, so shipping sacks of it is not usually important.
So exactly where does all this handy salt come from? It can be obtained in one of the many salt marshes of the Realms by ladling salty water out on large, flat, sun-baked rocks and waiting until the water evaporates. A few of the better known salt marshes include the Flooded Forest between the Moonsea and the Dragon Reach, the Adder Swamp in Chessenta, the Spider Swamp, and Rethild (the Great Swamp). Salt also washes up and deposits naturally around certain shores, such as the Lake of Steam and around Azulduth, the Lake of Salt. Huge salt plains also exist in An- auroch and Raurin, the remnants of once-large bodies of water that have become dry land.
Salt mines operate in Chult, Calimshan, under certain islands in the Korinn Archipelago and north of Mintarn, in the mountains girdling Amn, in the Orsraun Mountains, and other places. The point is: Salt is plentiful.
Many gnome families make a good living min¬ing small salt deposits and trundling the results to the nearest human town or village market, so you won’t find a “Salt Road” or salt caravans, though you will often find a salt wagon in a mixed-goods caravan.

Childrens Toys

The most desirable toys by far are small, whittled wooden warriors, wizards, dragons, and other monsters. Also well-loved are large, whittled wooden dolls, often princes and princesses, dressed in clothes sewn from scraps of old rag. Next come marbles made of rounded stones, whittled-down nuts, frozen berries in winter, and sometimes blown glass. Finally, carved wooden toy swords and, in rural areas, slingshots are fairly popular.
A bit more pricey are the cuddle-in-bed toys known as hearth faeries—intricately sewn, stuffed with scented herbs and ward-away-sickness charms. These keepsakes are often retained into adulthood and used as pillows. Also popular are cast metal “little warriors” (model soldiers) and dragons and other monster figurines that are large, well painted, cast from metal, and pose- able (with articulated joints). Then there are large knight-and-horse figurines even more realistically modeled and painted, with real hair and such.
Temples of Gond sell very expensive little clockwork toys, such as revolving-egg jewel boxes that play tunes. The “egg” of one of these jewel boxes is an upright, ovoid sculpture that has several layers that rotate within each other by clockwork, revealing elaborately detailed etched and painted scenes inside. Common scenes for egg jewel boxes include feasts in castles, men fighting each other with swords, and skeletons escaping manacles in a dungeon. The temples of Gond also sell expensive “marching warriors”
(the familiar “walking soldier with windup key in his back”). In some large cities, a few crafters make large stuffed lions, cute dragons, and other shapes that children can use as pillows, sleeping bags, play-steeds, and friends.