Trading Post

The Trading Post is a place where players can trade in Animata items and other excess items for useful or exclusive items and companions. It can be accessed from the [Tavern].

Trades

For all current and past trades, see Trading Post/Trades.

Current permanent rotation:

Trading Post/Trades/Rotation

Past Trading Post rotations by year:

Quests

Animata items can be obtained in small quantities from completing most quests. The amount of items obtained is determined by the stamina cost, and a random multiplier ranging from x0.5 to x1.5. The type of the item obtained is random.

The following quests provide larger quantities of Animata items, matching the type needed for the current trades:

The following quests do not drop Animata items:

Scenario

Staring at my palm, I wonder if it's really mine. I can't be sure.

My head swirls with unreliable thoughts and sensations, memories as hazy as a half-forgotten dream.

One thing alone seems certain:

My name is Pepropé.

It's the name of a man once hailed a hero by the people of Prah.

Terra Battle: A Tangential Tale
- Lost Time -

[After 25 trades]

They threw me in the dungeons the other day.

My crime? Treason. I've bloodied my hands with the murder of the king himself...allegedly.

I say "allegedly" because I remember almost nothing.

Either way, I had no chance to confirm whether I was truly guilty as charged. I found myself condemned for regicide--and then I awoke here.

[After 50 trades]

The dungeons were a desolate sight, a sprawling maze of debris and decay.

Walls and bars had collapsed into rubble. The place was scattered with remains of the dead. Monstrous predators prowled about, eyes glinting dangerously in the dark.

The sole source of illumination was the dying glow of phosphorus. I found that I could see surprisingly well once my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, though.

[After 75 trades]

"It happened just the other day. A bizarre red light swept through and razed the place..."

A grimy-faced inmate had approached and struck up a conversation. He called himself Bebeya.

He was a brawny fellow sporting warlike tattoos and a gleaming, shaven head. Yet despite his fierce appearance, he was a soft-spoken man, his voice geniality itself.

[After 100 trades]

Bebeya was kind enough to explain a few things.

Torrents of red light had decimated the dungeons, leaving the surrounding devastation in their wake. Word had it that that light, writhing and raging like monstrous serpents, had ravaged the overworld as well.

"It's a blessing that we stonefolk survived--sinners though some of us may be."

His account of Prah's situation was sobering. It was painfully clear that this was the end of an era.

[After 125 trades]

"He's lost his memory," Bebeya explained, flicking his thumb at me.

He had introduced me to his friends, but I could find nothing to talk about. Any memories of life before the day I awoke in this dungeon were a fog.

Hell, I wasn't even sure the clothes I wore were mine.

I wondered what I should do.

If they found any use for me in this dark, dank place, I supposed the answer was simply: whatever they ask.

[After 150 trades]

The girl with melancholy eyes was Pleia. The fellow who'd probably kill in cold blood without a second thought was Xeba. The woman who seemed a little too friendly was Pourd. And Bebeya was their leader.

These four welcomed me into their ranks when I had nowhere else to go.

"What should we call you?" asked Pourd.

The answer took only a moment's thought.

"Call me Pepropé."

[After 175 trades]

Though I'd lost my memory, one thing lingered: the name Pepropé.

In the stonefolk kingdom of Prah, it was the name of a celebrated hero.

Without a smile or even a glance in my direction, Xeba remarked dryly, "Well, now. That's a mighty gallant name for a criminal."

They had no idea what my crime was.

[After 200 trades]

It turned out my companions were plotting an escape. It explained why they had been so welcoming.

With no memory and no prospects, I had no reason to refuse. It would at least give me a purpose.

I had a feeling that the harder it drove me, the better I'd be able to figure out who and what I was.

[After 225 trades]

This jailbreak wasn't to be a typical escape to the outside world of fresh air and sunshine.

A being known as the Maker allegedly dwells in the subterranean depths of this world.

And the Maker's domain is said to be paradise.

[After 250 trades]

"They say it's a paradise where nothing is impossible and anyone can live on their own terms!"

Pleia was buoyant, voice brimming with excitement and hope. It all sounded too good to be true, but she fervently believed with all her heart.

[After 275 trades]

"Paradise, huh? I've never heard anyone on the surface mention it. What do you think, Pepropé?"

Xeba was skeptical it existed. On the other hand, why not find out? It beat rotting away in the dungeons.

Thoroughly sick of monotonous days in the dark, Xeba pledged Bebeya his cooperation.

[After 300 trades]

"This place has already been abandoned."

I looked at Xeba. He was glaring at the dark, high ceiling.

"Why did you say your name was Pepropé?"

I really don't think I have an answer that will satisfy him. How would an amnesiac be able to answer with confidence, anyway?

The only thing I can say is that I am called Pepropé, and the people of Prah called me a hero.

Just then, Xeba turned to me and fixed me with a sharp, piercing gaze.

"Penduloma. That was the name of the last man to obtain the title of the Hero Pepropé."

[After 325 trades]

Xeba fixed me in his piercing gaze, waiting for a reaction. I could see he was trying to get a measure of me.

"Then I suppose my name used to be Penduloma, too. That helps confirm one of my memories."

Xeba laughed dryly and closed his eyes.

"I can't tell if you're stupid, or a bigshot, or the real deal..."

Why does Xeba care so much?

[After 350 trades]

"It doesn't matter who I am. It doesn't change the situation we're in. As of this moment, I'm just another prisoner."

"Maybe so, but in this world, only the strong survive. Lip service won't pay the bills. I want to know if you understand that."

I locked eyes with Xeba, and he gestured with his chin, a silent command to look in that direction. There, I found an exhausted old man.

[After 375 trades]

Perhaps he was once well known for his power and ambition. A myriad of scars covered his body.

His tattoo, which I imagine once had a meaningful design, was now overwritten with laceration scars to the point that the original pattern was a mystery.

His stone wings were cracked, his skin deteriorated, and the fossilization process had already begun. In a few days, he would become just another Forlorn Stone. The color of his eyes had already faded beyond recognition, so he was beyond recovery.

"He used up all his life energy."

Said Xeba, walking unceremoniously into the old man's quarters.

[After 400 trades]

"Xeba, what are you doing?"

"Looking for things I can sell."

Xeba answered without glancing back. He then proceeded to ransack the dying man's quarters.

"Aah... aah..."

Seeing this, the old man weakly stretched out his hand, but it was all in vain.

Xeba didn't pay him any mind, and instead simply kept picking things up, murmuring to himself, and then either pocketing the item or chucking it.

[After 425 trades]

"Stop it, Xeba."

But Xeba didn't stop. He didn't care at all.

"Xeba! Please, stop!"

Finally, Xeba's hands fell still.

"What, you're begging me now?"

"It can wait until after he's gone, can't it? He doesn't have much time. Let him die in peace, at least."

"Who would have thought a moron like you could earn the title of hero."

Before I could even react, we were surrounded.

[After 450 trades]

The monsters, Stonefolk, and machines had all formed cliques in order to survive in this world... Anything to increase their chances of survival. And now we were under attack.

"Let's see your power, hero."

Xeba was laughing.

Was he scoffing at me, or was he happy that a fight was about to break out?

But just then, as the fight was upon us, I realized that I didn't have a single weapon.

Meanwhile, they had swords and spears... No archers though, from the looks of it. That's a relief.

The machines would probably be the most difficult to deal with. They looked to be altered security drones, because they were outfitted with sturdy-looking cannons perfect for use during a riot.

"It's for show. They don't have any bullets. Don't panic."

The instant Xeba said that, I was blinded by an explosion.

[After 475 trades]

"No bullets! Good one!"

I screamed.

Everything went white. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't tell how Xeba was doing, or even where he was.

It was all too sudden and too intense. I was rooted to the spot. I couldn't even tell up from down.

But I could tell one thing for sure: I was being beaten, kicked and burned from all directions.

Even then, part of me was still thinking rationally. The pain confirmed that I was still alive. I found this rational part of me kind of ridiculous.

[After 500 trades]

By the time my sight returned, my whole body ached, and all I wanted was to lie down wherever I could.

But it was good that I looked down at the ground, because right there by my feet was a forgotten sword... No, a sword-like piece of scrap wood.

I picked it up and found it to be unexpectedly light. When I held the weapon, my muscle memory kicked in, and I felt something welling up inside me.

The heat from all the scars carved into my body, and the raging life force feeding off it.

I had a strong urge to destroy anything in my way in order to escape this predicament.

This is what it means to live...

A golden glow began to pour out from the palm gripping the weapon.

"That light..."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Xeba had been caught off guard for once.

[After 525 trades]

We were surrounded, with nowhere to run... but I saw this as an opportunity.

This was my only chance to take them out in one fell swoop.

The light took hold of the weapon in my hand, and it transformed into a glowing sword which I then brandished confidently.

That motion required no forethought, as if I was on autopilot. That was just how naturally it came to me.

A thousand rays pierced the rogues.

[After 550 trades]

Xeba looted the bodies of the fallen rogues for valuables.

He assessed all sorts of random items, mumbling to himself as he went. His rucksack was soon filled.

I went over to the old man, who was at death's door.

His faded eyes evaluated me without wavering, and he began to open and close his mouth, as if trying to speak.

"Do you have a message for someone?"

[After 575 trades]

The old man gave up on trying to speak and instead pointed to his bed with a shaky hand. Xeba was not far away.

"Xeba, is there something over there?"

He didn't respond, but he must have been listening. He began to carefully examine the bedding area.

His expression changed almost instantly.

Whatever it was, Xeba tossed it over to me. I caught it easily and looked down at it.

"A doll?"

It was faded and timeworn. The place where its face should have been was nearly blank.

"Is this it?"

The old man looked at it and seemed to liven up ever so slightly.

[After 600 trades]

"Take... memento... please..."

After forcing the words out, he collapsed once more.

Memento? Whose memento was it?

Would the original owner be happy about me simply taking it?

As I puzzled over what to say, Xeba took the doll from my hands and spoke.

"Don't worry. If this is the proof that you once lived, we'll gladly carry it with us."

The old man seemed relieved at these words. He smiled faintly and turned to stone.

[After 625 trades]

"Xeba..."

He was actually trying to protect the old man from those hyenas... I almost said it out loud, then thought better of it.

Because the moment Xeba was sure the man was dead, he carelessly dropped the doll to the floor.

"Did you forget what you just said?"

"It's just worthless junk!"

"Junk? He treasured that thing! Wasn't it 'proof that he existed'?"

"Who cares if anyone in this trash heap ever existed? There's a reason we're all here. What reason is that? Because we're criminals. Committing a crime is the same as trampling on another person. We don't deserve kindness. We deserve to be stabbed in the back."

"You don't think a criminal's life has value?"

"Show me proof that it does. You're in here because of your crimes, right?"

"...So are you."

The conversation ended there.

[After 650 trades]

Not a word was spoken on the way back.

But a thought occurred to me.

The old man surely must have died happily. He believed Xeba, felt reassured, and smiled.

That's the last thing he ever saw.

Isn't that kindness enough?

Unable to abandon the old, faded doll, I secretly brought it back with me. Unfortunately, it had no answers for me.

Trivia

The Trading Post was added in version 4.1.0.
Version 4.3.0 added Animata items as drops for completing most quests.

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