One born every minute

To make a magical item, you need a pile of resources, and then you need to pour a bucket of skill and effort over it.
In Lios-Grand's opinion, this was a fantastic waste. Lios-Grand was a Pasha, an earth-djinn of royal blood, and being rich was something he was very good at. Making things (in his incredibly experienced opinion) was a mug's game. You had to find something that someone wanted, then make it (working with your hands!) What was the purpose of being rich if you had to work for it? It made Lios-Grand a little nauseous even considering the idea. 
What was far easier was to wait for people to give you money. If you wanted easy money, you needed trade goods. They were great, they held their value, and you never needed to haggle. It was a simple matter to buy them at cost, and then wait for someone to buy them off you at a slight profit. You didn't need to make much on each transaction, you could make it up in bulk.
Take today for instance. Lios-Grand was spending today as he did most days, inside Dante's Pub. He knew a lot of people here, and he pretended to care about their struggles long enough to at least see if needed anything he could source for them. 
Sitting across from him was an Oread mindshaper. Mindshapers were a kind of lazy artisan, using magic to bend the elements to their will. This particular one was highly skilled, but also completely skint, due to a crippling addiction to a certain volcanic rock that had mind-altering powers. Without access to this very expensive drug, the Oread was essentially useless, and so went the cycle of selling an artwork, spending the proceeds on more rock, and using the high to create more art. Sadly, this cycle had broken, as the Oread had neither money for rock or for raw materials.
Lios-Grand was not a kind creature, but he could smell profit a mile away. Turning to his stony companion, he made an offer: Enough raw material to last him a year, but in exchange Lios-Grand would expect to be paid back from his profits, plus an additional five percent on top. As a token of his friendship, he would also make sure the Oread left with enough rock to get his creativity flowing. The Oread cried with joy, shook Lios-Grand's hand, and called him a "savior" and "a true king".
Feigning modesty (although not trying too hard) Lois-Grand stood up and walked over a few tables, where a young orc was making a very interesting offer. Lois-Grand politely waited until he had the orc's attention.
"Young man, I would like to buy your mithril. All of it. I am willing to pay you two million gold pieces, in the form of gold, platinum, diamond, stone, or any other material. 
Lios-Grand smiled. What was the purpose of being a djinn, if you didn't grant wishes?