Azarra takes a look at the table to see if there is anything else up for auction that they might want to bid for (or steal, later).
Then she returns to the bidding table and says a quick, silent prayer to Lliira to help them through this.
A few minutes later and the now fairly full tent is buzzing with excitement, the auction was surely about to begin. Sure enough a sound like a kettle drum boomed and every head turned to the centre where standing on a shield held by two ogres was the suited goblin. One of the ogres had kicked a barrel which made the noise. This triggered a sudden rush of orcs and weirder creatures to take their seats at the long blue table.
The goblin addressed the assembled crowd with surprising loudness, his voice easily overpowering the excited din of the inhuman crowd, "Welcome! For the Greater Glory of Bane, the Banking house of Valint and Baulk welcomes one and all to our auction! Tonight for the entertainment of all, fortunes shall be made and lost. Favours, Slaves and Items of power are for sale to the highest accredited bidder!"
The goblin makes an expansive gesture before saying, "And without further ado let us begin! Lot number #1 is ten years of faithful service (backed by Geas), by Hyn'thar this most fearsome minotaur bodyguard!"
The crowd roared as the minotaur paraded in front of the goblin, his oiled muscles bulging as he performed several feats of strength - lifting a blunt but improbably heavy 10' long steel sword and waving it about as if it was as light as a feather.
Smiling unctuously the goblin's voice boomed, "Can anyone start us with an opening bid of one thousand gold"
Immediately several hands went up and the bids started to rise.
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Azarra pays attention to the bidding, not bidding on the minotaur, but waiting to see what else comes up, and waiting to see when the orb will go up for sale.
Ser Armithia just stares at those around Ishta,
After several rounds of bidding the Minotaur's services where won by an orc called Ardwin the Red who was apparently some kind of local celebrity.
The suited goblin then announced the next lot, "Up next for the glory of Bane are four dwarven labourers, hard working, hardy. Good for smashing rocks or for archery practice!"
A heavily armed detail of orc and ogre guards then paraded the chained dwarves at spear point for all to see. They looked to be a hardy bunch with corded muscles but with dead looking eyes.
Once all the potential bidders had a chance to inspect the dwarves, the goblin auctioneer's voice boomed, "Valint and Baulk are proud to offer nothing but the very best for you lucky people. Will anyone start with fifty gold for the lot?"
Several hands at the blue table immediately rose and bidding steadily progressed towards one hundred and fifty gold. The goblin cried, "One hundred and fifty gold, going to Eratz the Black. Do I hear one-sixty from anyone? No? Going once, going twice..."
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Azarra notices that they look like dwarven smiths.
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Two hundred! says Azarra, hoping to save the dwarven smiths, jumping the bidding higher to discourage Eratz from continuing.
Ser Armithia marks Eratz the Black who bid the 150 gold...he stares him/it down.
Ishta is about to bid for the dwarves when the disguised Azarra does, so she hesitates. Faking a gesture of "that's too much", she looks elsewhere, appearing as a disappointed bidder.
The goblin grinned from ear to ear, "Two hundred from the lady! Can I hear two ten? Going once..."
Eratz's hand wavered before shaking his head.
"Going twice, Going thrice! Sold to the lady." boomed the Goblin.
An orc functionary appeared and handed a receipt to Azarra and whispered, "Lovely Lady, you excellent taste in slaves. We shall keep them in holding pen until you have arranged payment and transport details."
While this was going on the goblin auctioneer started the bidding for the adamantine sword at five thousand gold and rising rapidly.
Azarra smiles back at the functionary and nods in thanks.
Ser Armithia keeps an eye on Eratz the Black for the remainder of the auction.
The sword was sold to an absentee collector known as Pr'Arakvin for a disgusting amount of money. The next couple of lots involved favours which turned out to be favours of the intimate kind with orc maidens who incidentally looked tough as nails and half as attractive.
The next item was an oversized hammer of impact, designed for an ogre. This went to a warlord called H'rand for an eye watering price.
After these the goblin auctioneer announced, "Now lot 8. Half-elven slaves. One prior owner. Four adolescent males, six adolescent and young adult and an old couple to oversee them. Good strong teeth the lot of them. Well trained, a group ideal for running a large household, a plantation or even a mine. Any takers for the lot? Do I hear two thousand gold?"
Eratz the Black's hand immediately went up.
"Eratz the Black starting with two thousand. Two thousand, one hundred anyone?" asked the Auctioneer.
The large orc next to Lofferen's hand went up.
"Two thousand, two hundred?" boomed the Auctioneer's voice.
Eratz the Black's hand went up again.
"Two thousand, three hundred?" asked the Auctioneer.
2,500 Azarra calls out, jumping to the guide price right away, hoping that will encourage at least some people to drop out.
Eratz slams his hands down on the table and levels a menacing glare at Azarra as he raises his bid in a growl, "Three thousand."
The goblin auctioneers pointed teeth sparkle as he grins in glee, "Three thousand to Eratz... Three thousand, one hundred anyone?"
Ser Armithia stands. He stares at Eratz. His ice blue eyes never leaving his....
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Ishta turns her head to look at the people around her, interested in seeing if anyone dares launch a counter bid.
But it's only a trick to be able to whisper through the Message spell without anyone noticing, overhearing or lipreading her.
"Do it."
If needed, she's got two thousand more in her purse.
Will do she whispers back to Ishta.
Wondering why Garwain isn't bidding, Azarra smiles sweetly around her tusks at Eratz and bids again.
Three thousand five hundred. she says, with a little shrug of her shoulders, as if the money were of no consequence.
The whole affair causes Kardas's mouth to grow dry and the swordmage tastes nothing but iron. If he could, he'd murder them all. Alas. There are bigger fish to fry, bigger dragons to decapitate.
Eratz's face distorted with anger and he slammed his fist into the table so hard a bit of it snapped off, "What? Three thousand five hundred! Woman you've gone mad..."
With that tirade he stormed off, slamming into some poor serving orc who he backhanded hard enough to send them flying.
The goblin auctioneer didn't even blink at this behaviour and smiling creepily he noted, "Sold to the lady! Onto lot nine, a cloak. Said to have been passed down from from father to son since the days of Mythdrannor, it may look humble but in the right hands it's a potent force. I hear an opening bid of five thousand gold?"
As before a functionary soon passed Azarra a receipt.
To Ishta Lofferen remarked, "That one's brave crossing Eratz like that. Anyway won't be long now, the orb is lot 11."
Azarra whispers to the others through their message spell:
Looks like that guy is going to be trouble. Not that we need more trouble tonight, but we've got some.
Ser Armithia looks pleased.
The cloak ended up going for a shade under ten thousand to a lanky half orc called Thohgard the Hand, one of the principles of the Black Spear Company. A mercenary company of ill repute hailing from Mulmaster, said to employ monsters of all kinds.
Lot ten turned out to be an Orc drum called Fflar's bane. This sinister looking drum came with a leather harness that is worn across the shoulders and back so that the drummer can play and walk simultaneously. The side of thew drum was made of ivory and daubed with crude symbols. The skin was flayed from the back of Fflar the captain of Mythdrannor before its fall. The drum heads and stacks where fashioned from his femurs wrapped in strips of leg skin.
Bidding was intense and it eventually went to the Orc Warlord Karadur for a princely sum north of thirty thousand gold. There was much consternation later when it turned out that Karadur's purse has been stolen and while he naturally wasn't carrying 30k on his person, he did have a letter of credit from one of the Sembian banking houses. In the end one of the other banking houses decided to back his bit, albeit for a 20 percent fee which left Karadur in a mood best described as murderous.
"And now for the main event! Valint and Baulk are proud to present lot eleven, one orb of draconic command!" cried the goblin auctioneer who had once again been lifted on a shield held between a pair of ogres. At his signal an almost naked female tiefling with gauzy little wings, a tail, cloven feet and dainty red horns strutted saucily towards the table which had been piled high with the auction lots.
All eyes followed her, many focused on the large object under the tap but many others on her derriere. She seemed to drink up this attention and with a practiced flick which made her bits jiggle, she heaved the tarp off the central object. Revealed beneath was an etched crystal globe about 10 inches in diameter sitting upon a sturdy cast iron tripod which to your eyes seemed comically oversized. The globe itself was quiescent although there was a faint cloud swirling within, reminiscent of a nebula.
"Perhaps a demonstration of authenticity is in order. Yulkara awaken it but do not issue a summons..." boomed the Goblins voice as his filed teeth glistened in a malevolent smile.
The tiefling blew him a kiss before placing the palm of her hand on the orb and whispering something. It abruptly flared with a caramel colored light as it grew in size to a diameter of about twenty inches. Within a storm was brewing and there was a palpable aura of power surrounding it like static electricity. Within your head you heard a sudden feminine voice purring, 'come take me!'
The tifeling sneered at the orb before wrenching her hand off it, from somewhere she had produced a small scroll and snapped a word of command. A sudden violet cube shaped cage made from bands of scintillating force snapped into shape around the orb and the whispers and compulsion immediately ceased leaving shocked onlookers in its wake.
The goblin's voice boomed once more "Apologies! But as you can see this item is authentic. Before anyone suffering from the lingering effects of its song gets funny ideas, this place is proof from teleportation and we have a large competent security contingent."
To underscore this a dozen heavily armed ogres including a strange one with two heads took up a defensive perimeter around the force cage and the orb within.
The tifeling sauntered past them to stand near the goblin who with a deeply avaricious grin announced, "Let the bidding begin! Anyone care to start us off with fifty thousand?"
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Azarra says
Fifty thousand
bidding the minimum and trying to size up the competition.
Ser Armithia looks at those around the room. The gold elf Paladin itching for Holy fire to wash over the room.
He resists not only the pull of the Orb, but also the temptation to cut it in twain!
Ishta feels the power of the orb, and how almost impossible to resist it is, and then realises Lofferen has barely winked before it. This orc must have tremendous willpower, out comes magically prepared for such an artifact. In either case, it seems a very dangerous enemy.
Lofferen grins as several others bid up to fifty five thousand and glancing at Ishta he grunts, "OK let's cut to the chase sixty thousand!"
This was a huge sum of money but you had reason to believe he may had secured perhaps another twenty thousand or so on top of that.
The goblin's grin grew to rival a cheshire cat's and his gleeful voice cried, "Sixty Thousand to Lofferen! Any advance?"
Azarra says matter-of-factly
Sixty-one thousand
Azarra rubs her lip nervously to cover whispering to her team.
This is the critical moment. Maybe whisper to him that you know that orc over there only has 75,000 in funding to bid on this item, and see if you can get him to jump the bid up really high to the top of what he can afford. That might discourage anyone else from trying for it? Then, if he wins, you guys walk away. If someone else bids though, we have to help him win.
Ishta nods. She carefully approaches Lofferen's ear and whispers.
"Our research of rumours says that one over there has a ceiling of 75 to 80 thousand. Will we - you - be able to outbid him?"
Lofferen swore softly as he whispered back, "Wow and I thought I knew all the players with funding. I wish I'd known earlier, I had some other expenses and can't go over 62000 tonight. Just one more day would have made all the difference... Well there's several ways to play this from here, lean on somebody to make a joint bid or let him win and make alternative arrangements. If he can't or won't pay up then we win by default. Let's see if anyone else bids shall we?"
Ishta nods to Lofferen's words, saying nothing.
Moments stretch and the auctioneer's voice booms, "Going once to the lady..."
Lofferen sighs and calls out, "Sixty one thousand, one hundred ."
The goblin eyes glitter as he acknowledges Lofferen's bid and asks, "Any advance on sixty one thousand, one hundred?"
Lofferen's glassy eyes bore into the female orc who had been bidding against him, with the implication of violence that will explode if this continues.
Sixty-two thousand says Azarra calmly, not looking at Lofferen, but secretly hoping he gets so angry he has a heart attack right here on the auction floor.
Ishta really has to make an effort not to bite her nails!
Ser Armithia just stands there stoically as ever.
I am so glad that I am wearing gauntlets! My poor nails would be done for!
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Lofferen's hand raised but then he shook his head and sighed. To Ishta he whispered quietly, "Thank you for your investment but unless you have more funds available I fear I will need to make an alternative arrangement. There's two ways I can proceed from here, one involves you, one doesn't, both are risky. Are you interested?"
The Goblin raised one eyebrow at Lofferen's withdrawal and his voice boomed, "Going once to the lady for sixty-two thousand!"
Ser Armithia nods in the affirmative.
Ishta looks back at Lofferen. "My company doesn't appreciate blind bets. If you want our cooperation you'll have to be more specific."
Lofferen whispers, "Do you think you could offer to invest in whatever they're doing and invite them to discuss terms at T'anguar's tannery and kitchen? Would be foolish to make a move in here, only an idiot would make an enemy of Valint and Baulk, but their protection only extends inside this tent..."
Ishta puts a serious face. "I don't approve of these methods." She then lets her shoulders down a bit and relaxes her face. "However, it might prove difficult to explain how we managed to let the chance slip through our fingers. Being an exceptional situation..."
She shrugs, letting the idea penetrate Lofferen's defenses.
"T'anguar's Tannery you say? Let me talk to her, I'm quite sure I can make her go. But what if she has friends?"
In the background the announcers voice boomed "Going twice! Going three times! SOLD To the mysterious lady for SIXTY TWO THOUSAND! And onto the final lot lucky number twelve, one singing elven recurve bow. Do I hear eight thousand from anyone?"
Several hands went and the bidding stared briskly.
Loffren shrugged, "She's not the only one with friends. It's surprising how many a heavy bag of gold can buy! Ha but we're going to have us a proper lock in! We'll get us that orb and maybe tan some hides..."
Ishta laments not having the money to bid for the bow - surely Azarra would love it. She considers bidding for it as part of the negotiation with Lofferen, but that would make the facade look weaker.
"I'll be sure to approach her and ask her to go there with any excuse - you go straight and be ready. Your presence in the talking might be too intimidating and she might suspect."
She goes away, but turns to add something more.
"If all goes well and we get the orb... I never was at T'anguar's."
Ser Armithia stands just behind Ishta. The Bodyguard not smiling.