Also by non-players Rio, Natalie, and Liane.
Additional documentation photography by Anna One.

Quoth Sunshine:
As soon as I joined SFØ and read through the tasklist, I knew I was going to do this Task and do it to the fullest of my abilities. I have long loved the concept of Goblin Markets, and general Fae contracts and salesmanship, with all that this entails. So I contacted Bryce, and the two of us posted an Event, contacted some friends, and generally got the thing going. It turned out far better than I could've hoped--the Goblin Market truly did come to Union Square, a fleeting crossover into a larger and stranger world. We had about fifteen people, all told, both sellers and hawkers, and managed to quite effectively fill a corner of the Square, making it really feel like a market alleyway.

The Union Square maintenance folk were at first suspicious of us, especially as we had no permit to sell anything, but once we explained to them that we were really more of street theater than salespeople, they became quite amenable to our presence. Eventually we had to move to a different part of the Square, due to some music being set up where we had been, but our new location proved to have even better customer throughfare (not to mention shade!).

I had been planning on just selling trinkets, but a few days before the market, Reed gave me the brilliant idea of selling Personas. So I set up shop, with a massive sign offering PERSONAS AND OTHER MASQUES. I cleaned my room of its various trinkets (it was thoroughly full--I pretty much never throw anything away) and divided them into groups. I made a set of cards, with the name of the Persona on one side and a description on the other. Each Persona had two or three charms or tokens that represented them, which the buyer got along with the card.
The Personas, along with what I was charging for each one:
The Lover (a kiss, on the back of the hand)
The Healer (an ailment or disease)
The Traveler (somewhere they had always wanted to go but never been)
The Childlike Dreamer (a dream)
The Scientist (a fact that I didn't know)
The Philosopher (an improvable theory)
The Parent (a childhood memory)
The Enigma (an unsolvable riddle; alternatively, a lie)
The Engineer (a new shape to a block puzzle I had with me)
The Gambler (luck, in the form of a roll of the dice)
The Hero (a failure)

I would estimate a solid three dozen people stopped to examine and discuss my wares, many of them parents. I had a good pitch to them, offering them a nigh-guaranteed future for their child as, say, a scientist or doctor. At the very least, the child would WANT to be that... A number of people inquired after certain Personas, with the Hero and the Scientist being quite popular. After hearing the prices, though, people always balked away from those two--the idea of trying to find a fact I didn't already know was made more interesting by the way people seemed to assume that if I DID already know the fact, I would do something like claim their soul. Either people in San Francisco understand the Goblin Market already, or we did a very good job of channeling our mythological counterparts!

My favorite woman, though she didn't buy anything, was a woman who clearly understood the spirit of the market. She asked to buy some of my physical masks, which, as they are very nice masks (and were on loan from Reed) were not for sale. So she offered me her son in payment. He looked to be about four or five, and was rather shy. I leaned forward, sniffing at him with my mask's long beak. He hid behind his mother's legs in terror, but she shoved him forward again, promising me that he was a hard worker and would grow up to be tall and strong like his father. Unfortunately, as the child refused to tell me his Name, I couldn't accept him. Smart kid. Got off lucky.

I made three sales of Personas. One to Eva, who bought the Engineer, as she wants to grow up to be one. Another to a boy of about three or four, who seemed curiously lacking in parents. He bought the Hero, as I think he wanted the dragon statue and plastic X-Wing that were its tokens. As he seemed a bit young to explain a failure, for his price I asked his favorite superhero. "Superman" was a reasonable answer. I expect great things from his future.

By far my favorite sale was to a child of about the same age, traveling with his father and younger sister. The father was discussing options with me, particularly interested in purchasing either The Healer or The Lover for his kids. Meanwhile, the boy had wandered over to The Gambler, and was pointing eagerly at its tokens--a set of odd-looking (and very shiny) foreign coins.
Father: "You don't want to buy that."
Kid: "I wanna!"
Father: "Trust me, it's a bad idea. You don't want to go down that road."
Kid: "I waannnnaaa!"
Me: "The price is low... all I need is some luck. A roll of the dice."
I extended a hand with three six-sided die. Before his father could stop him, the kid had snatched all three and thrown them down. They came up five, five, and six. The father let out a low whistle.
Father: Well, maybe with luck like that, the Gambler is a good path for you after all...
The kid went away gleefully jingling his new fistful of strange currency.


All in all, I had an absolutely amazing time bringing a bit more myth and magic to the streets of San Francisco, and would very gladly do it again, even bigger and better!


Kiga Sez:
One wouldn't expect a Goblin Market in the middle of Union Square. Not in this economy. Nonetheless, a few adventurous (read: starving) merchants set up shop in the middle of San Francisco for one afternoon only, with the intent of selling invaluable wares for bargain-bin prices such as, oh, a birthday, or a shape.



Were you at the market, surely you stopped by Kiga's Fortune Emporium, where you can "find out your future, then give it the finger!" Unlike your typical sleazeball fortuneteller with the neon window sign squawking "PSYCHIC READINGS", Kiga would start you off with a tarot reading, but that was just so you knew what would have happened, had you not found your way to Kiga's Fortune Emporium. Here the idea wasn't to predict your future, it was to craft it. In exchange for one's wandering feet, or a curiosity, (or some butt-warming pads, seriously!), you could look through the entire deck and hand-pick your future yourself.


Once you had exchanged your fortune for something better, you may have wanted to stop by right next door, to purchase one of the many marvels of magic and chemistry for sale by the legendary Magician-Scientist, Flammel! Sadly, his partner Nicholas could not be at the market that day, as he was off in jail somewhere. The savvy shopper at Flammel's wondershop would have noticed potions of luck, love, power and majesty, all yours for a simple price! Though, of course, that price might be a few days of your life, or ever something more... interesting.


Between a traveling alchemist, two masked musicians, a hypnotist, and a persona vendor to name a few, this year's Goblin Market was everything you'd ever want in a bazaar, but couldn't think of. It's hard to know if or when it may happen again, but if you're in the area, make sure you stop by.


Ombwah added:
I and my young progeny were quite involved in playing down the Cacophony when it happened ~ A momentary shift in the worldplanes that deposited us from our home to the crowded streets of a local prime.

Terra - USA - California - San Francisco - Union Square Park

It would seem we were drawn through by an unusual gathering of similar beings, goblike and obscure, those that would trade a wonder for a wonder, as I had been known to from time to time.
I saw amongst them:

An animal man with a knack for twisting fortunes and shifting cards,

A spry and gold-bedecked purveyor of emotions,

A masqued saleseman of masques,

A statue in red,

An artist's arrangement of images,

A mysterious and industrious alchemist, who consumed as much of his brew as he passed on,

and

A wide assortment of strange and unusual artifacts, all with a story and each purveyed for nary a coin of the realm.

Attracted inexorably to the displays, and at this point sure to be remaining on this plane for the duration of this confluence, our troupe, the Stone Council, settled in and set to playing; My son the digeridu and myself the tin flute. I do think our lively piping was fit for goblins, to be sure. It brought the passers-by nearer, I fancy.


When our energies ran low, we dipped into our cache of inspirations (on this plane having taken the appearance of river stones) and bartered them with the denizens of San Francisco for "A secret, a dream, or the name of your favorite song." To woo the reticent I would occasionally tell them the stones were for protection, and cite their power to drive off locals.

My youngest couldn't be bothered with such dalliance and merely cavorted in her joy throughout.

In goblin commerce I encountered:

One that occasionally does her dishes in the shower.

A tale of a walk where some took the high road and others the low. All were well and happy by the end of the journey, but the individual who followed her own path was rewarded with the most wonderous gift of all.

A surprise meeting in the city, with a friend thought far adrift.

I heard as well a handful of names of the passing souls' favorite ditties, these, however, shall not be recounted here.

There were also just a few epic battles.

one of which can be viewed here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NfIrkKVsRPw

In time the angle of the sun fell away, and we strange merchants packed up our meager things.
The one I came to know as Abe poured out the bottle of laughter, and we goblins broke ways in peace.

Ananas and Mind Boggle:
We bottled the fog of the early morning in the Sunset and brought it to the market to sell, along with greeting cards for all occasions and greeting cards for some occasions, featuring images of San Franisco and wacky, slightly morose sayings. Our first sale was a greeting card to Anna One. We were unsure what price to ask, but upon spying the empty vials yet to be filled from neighbor Abe's blanket, decided that laughter was always a good thing to have. Later, a man with two small children came by. Impressed by our fog catching technique, he and his daughter picked out a jar in exchange for an impromptu story of the unfortunate scrapes and accidents she had experienced in her young, young life, including colliding with her brother at full speed while running around the house. At this point we packed up and left our remaining greeting cards next to the famous red heart that borders Union Square with the message, 'Really, really free greeting cards!'

Abe expounds:
I came to the market with empty bottles, in which to store memories, emotions, and dreams, and a large sign reading "We can remember it for you wholesale." I brought a basket of trinkets as well, dwarfed by the collections of my neighbors, but the most valuable item in my inventory was a vial of bottled happiness.

Bottling up any emotion is easy; the hard part is letting it out, and this was achieved through a complex ritual involving the use of my snakelike hypnosis staff, which I received many years ago from a dying German monk.
Later, a neighboring merchant bottled a laugh, and I traded her the vial of happiness for this. Just before the market was dispersed, I tipped out this vial of laughter, in a magic ritual that took several minutes and had the effect of a pandemic of laughter.

The market itself was mostly overlooked by the passersby, but several, especially children, were ensnared by its charming appeal.
I also asked several families if they would "be interested in trading their children for something more interesting," but, while several said yes, none followed through on the offer. Quite a shame—there's high demand for children this time of year. We collected a number of feathers, powdered drinks, opinions, ideas, secrets, and birthdays, but alas no memories, colors, hair, or tears.


Ariana's notes on the matter:
The goblin market was a place of all sorts of wears, raging from fortunes to essence of the prior friday in a bottle. Many of the vendors were calling to the crowd to buy their wares. Certian phrases used by the vendors included
"a gift for the lady?"
"get your fortune told and give it the finger"
"would you like to trade in your child for something more interesting?"
I spent a good deal of time motionless on black marble. Needless to say that if you're barefoot and the dark stone absorbs all of the sun's heat, it gets really quite hot by one o' clock in the afternoon. Being a statue, I could not pitch to have someone buy anything from me as the other vendors did, but had to remain as motionless and catch their attention solely through eye contact and a small sign that said "Put something in the hat". For a while, a man and his daughter and son stared at me curiously for a while, then he told me their names and their favorite foods. I danced around a little, and then they did it again. This went on for about ten minuted until they wandered off. Throuout the day I generally recieved customers under the age of seven singing me songs, telling me stories, cracking jokes. I wish I had spent more time wandering around the market myself, as I did want to purchase a persona (I was given "The Artist") and perhaps have my fortune told, but all in all, it ended well. Unfortunately, the epic battle between myself and Cthulu at the end was broken up by Kiga, so we didn't get to discover who dominates the other in the goblin underworld. Shame...