"My shirt is a one-of-a-kind relic from another plane; it has no standard market price. In real life, I plan to never sell it, ever, though I might sell the ability to do science to it. Suppose however that, relative to how wealthy I expect to someday be, my shirt, one of my only memories of dath ilan, is worth one million gold pieces to me, in the sense that, if some insidious force was otherwise going to steal my shirt from me, I wouldn't pay any more than a million to protect it."
"Now suppose somebody else has a very weird magical spell that can take any relic of dath ilan, and immediately convert it into ten million gold pieces, no questions asked."
"Any price greater than a million gold and less than ten million gold is a mutually beneficial trade, in the sense that both of us are better off making the trade at that price, than not trading with each other at all. But if my shirt sells for only a million and a thousand gold, I'm only a thousand gold better off, and the other person is around nine million gold better off. If my shirt sells for ten million minus a thousand, the other guy has profited by a thousand and I've profited by a bit less than ten million."
"Trading at all, at any price in the range, is mutually beneficial; we're both better off. But on top of that event, there's another event, a question of the exact price, in which my being one gold piece better off makes the other person one gold piece worse off."
"How do we set that price, then? Aren't we locked into an adversarial game where it's my interest to say, 'I'll only sell at ten million minus one', and it's their interest to say, 'I'll only buy at one million plus one'? Why would we say anything else, when saying anything else just makes the other person better off at our own expense? But if we both think like that, the trade doesn't occur at all."
"What price is fair? How can two people like that agree on a trade at all? How does Golarion, how does Cheliax, think about that?"