Ulysses spends the first day reacquainting himself with potion brewing. It has been a while, so he starts with a simple potion: ant haul. If he has a few potions available, then he can prepare a more useful daily extract instead.
He'll spend ten hours making five ant haul potions (125gp). It's weird to me that there is no roll for this.
On day two, his confidence in his skill returned, he creates a single potion of delay poison and two potions of invisibility. (450gp.)
K(R): 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 9 + 2 = 13
Unfortunately for Melech, there is very little in the public sections of the Grand Mausoleum's library about resurrection--or about magic in general, for that matter. That information is mostly in the restricted section. He does learn the basics (essentially, what is given in the text of the raise dead spell).
Frustrated but resigned to his fate that it's just not in the cards for him right now, Melech returns to the inn and spends the days nursing an ale (he's not really that interested in drinking, but it gives his hands something to do) and chatting with anyone who is left from the original teams that explored the Necropolis.
The pickings are slim. Of the groups staying at the Tooth and Hookah, not many are left. You hear from someone else that Falto and the Qadiran cleric left in the early-morning hours; the Taldan looked deathly ill, and both of them "looked shady," as the patron put it. You know why, of course, even if the gossiper doesn't.
Mad Dog's group is presumed dead. They were searching the crypt of a mathematician of some sort. One of his dogs limped through the gates, covered in blood and burn marks. The bodies of Marrn, his remaining brothers, and the rest of his hounds were never recovered.
One group who had showed up briefly the first night disappeared the next day and have not been heard from, a group called the Sunrise Fellows.
A group from Andoran called the Four Lanterns, two of which carry strange weapons they refer to as "guns," have survived intact and will be at tomorrow's auction. They're pretty tight-lipped, but their wizard does smugly assert that they found a completely intact and unused sarcophagus. "Pain in the ass to bring back, but we did. Craziest thing! Unused sarcophagus. Dumb luck. Bet it fetches a fine price with a collector."
While an occupied sarcophagus would have been a massive violation of the three rules of the exploration, an unused one does not, and would likely fetch an impressive price with a collector even if it was a simple one; a more elaborate sarcophagus might actually be a hard sell because it would be so valuable that even the nobles might hesitate to bid on it. But if one does... well. These four will be set for life.
As for other adventuring groups, a handful of scattered survivors remain from other groups, who have taken their slim pickings already and skipped town. The Dead City may have been consecrated centuries ago by Nefru Shepses, but so many fresh corpses dying violently can't do anything good for the necropolis.
That night, when Melech finally returns to his room, he finds a piece of paper on his bed. It is hastily scrawled with a tremulous hand.
I got Nevai killed. I'm so sorry. I'm glad he came back, though I dunno how. I didn't mean to get you guys involved at all. I was told to lead the ghouls to the Scorched Hand and soften them up so she could interrogate them. She's looking for something in the Dead City. I don't know what, but she... knows things about me. Things she had no right knowing. She threatened people I care about. It's not an excuse, I just want you to understand. If you see her, don't fight. Run. She's the most terrifying person I've ever met, and believe me, I met some damn scary people back during my Pathfinder days.
I paid up room and board for you and Ulysses for a month. The bartender seemed pretty hesitant, what with everything that's happened lately, but I gave him his standard rates instead of the special rates for the expedition. That mollified him. Kaysha gave me something to give to you, for saving my life against... well I don't know her name. She kept calling herself Dark Tapestry, but surely that's not her real name. Sounds made-up to me.
Anyway I hope the scroll helps and again, I'm sorry for everything. Please stay alive out there.
Rolled up with the letter is a scroll. You're not a spellcaster though, so you have no idea what it is.
Nevai can take a look at it in the morning.
* * *
Day 11: 7 Pharast, 4714 AR
The evening of the auction finally arrives. The trio approach the Canny Jackal just after sunset, mere blocks from the Grand Mausoleum in the Sunburst Market. Perhaps forty feet from the auction house is a great salt pillar some twelve feet high. Nearly every single inch of it is covered in severed hands, desiccated by the desert sun into vile, withered things. It is a horrid, gruesome sight in the otherwise relatively cosmopolitan city of Wati.
Further ahead, the impressive stone edifice of the Canny Jackal looms in the shadowy dusk, a huge jackal statue standing sentinel before the curved steps leading up to the auction house's three main doors. From inside, many voices can be heard in lively conversation, with light from several torches spilling out into the late evening. Faint odors of rich foods and spiced wines drift out of the open doors.
If you tell Nevai about the scroll before bed (he's staying in the Tooth and Hookah for now; he has no interest in going to speak to Ibrahim just yet and opening that can of worms) he'll prepare read magic in the morning. It's a scroll of remove curse.
Nevai grimaces as they pass the Pillar of Second Thoughts. "Unpleasant sight, isn't it? I am all for setting an example, but this has always struck me as... distasteful. A relic from another time, with a crueler sense of justice." He sighs. "Still, it earns its moniker. One certainly would have second thoughts about stealing from the market while in plain view of this thing."
He moves past it toward the open doors of the auction house. "I still think it's silly to be in full armor and weapons for this event, but the funny little man insisted, so..." He throws his hands up in defeat. The excitable young man--what was his name? Beni?--with the gods-awful patchy excuse for a beard had insisted it would help them "sell the image" of being adventurers. Nevai doesn't know about that, but after all the horrors they faced in the Dead City, he supposes he does feel a bit better wearing his gear.
Melech struggles with the enormous bag of loot that they have accumulated over the past week. He briefly wonders why its weight and unwieldiness hasn't been an issue until right now; they've been taking it everywhere they go! He shrugs and just chalks it up to a quirk of Golarion physics.
Melech leads the trio into the auction house, which is already in full swing. A halfling strums a sitar upon the auction block, a pleasant but rather forgetful tune that simply blends into the background of the many conversations. Men and women gather in several groups chattering animatedly as they eat finger foods passed around by several servants and drink spiced wine from pewter cups.
The young man who helped you divide your items into lots approaches you.
(Point of clarification that I didn't mention, they took the items from you a couple days ago, along with the forms you filled out to set them into lots. You didn't have to haul all of it here, because it was already here.)
The man is wearing a silk dress shirt entirely too small for him, suggesting it's either borrowed or was purchased for him when he was much younger (likely the former) with a fez cap tied jauntily to the top of his head. He has shaved off the terrible beard in favor of an equally terrible mustache of post-teen fuzz. It's honestly embarrassing.
"Hello again, Bombs and Blades!" Beni says cheerfully. You suspect he doesn't usually speak any other way. "It is so good to see you once more! Do you require refreshments? Ahteb!" He speaks to an older man next to him, who despite his wizened appearance, stands straight and holds a tray of pewter cups with a steady hand, offering them to the group. The heady scent of spiced wine wafts out of them. "Please, drink and eat! Hamapetra is around with the food somewhere. But come! I will show you around."
He begins leading you around the auction house, pointing out the various power players.
"See there! That is Baketra." He points to a plump-figured Mwangi woman in green silks. "She is a gourmand. Quite infamous, yes. Fond of rare treats. She was very excited to hear the centerpiece for the food tonight is 2,000-year-old honey brought up from one of the expeditions! You must try some, friends."
He points to the heavyset half-elf man to Baketra's left. "That is Basif Iosep. A well-known coffee merchant from An. He travels all over, and came down for the expedition to find good deals. I have no doubt you have something he will want, of course!" He gives you a toothy grin as he points to the man and woman sitting in chairs opposite Baketra and Basif.
"Here you see Djat Masakhet and Intef Karam, clerics of Nethys, though they work from the Sanctum of Silver and Gold. No doubt looking for magic!"
He turns to the four Andoren men Melech spoke to yesterday. "The Four Lanterns! Not the only other adventurers with items to auction, but the only ones who actually came in person. I know little about them, I am afraid."
He nods to a familiar figure near the auction block: Ptemenib is gesticulating wildly, apparently in animated conversation with the nearby empty chair. Beni clears his throat. "That is Ptemenib. He is, uh... a unique man."
His toothy smile quickly returns as he moves along the auction house, gesturing to a foppish young Garundi man in a beautifully-crafted and wildly ineffective silver-plated breastplate, with a polished and clearly unused khopesh at his side. He looks younger than Beni. He speaks with a humorless woman next to a nervous-looking servant girl. "That is young Khammayid Okhenti, scion of the Okhenti family. He recently returned from his studies in Oppara, I am told! The Okhentis are 'new money,' as they say." He gestures at the severe woman. "And that is Manaat Heshwah. She represents a trading house in Sothis. She comes once every few months looking for all sorts of practical items."
He continues leading you clockwise, stopping near a group of couches and chairs in the northwest corner of the auction house where a group of people gather. "Ah! There she is. Hamapetra! Silly girl. These guests are hungry! Try the honey, you must!" He begins going around the circle of people, starting with the women on either side of Hamapetra. "That is Namaru Meshhoten, a dowager, and her granddaughter Maru. Minor nobility here in Wati."
He points to a rail-thin man with whipcord muscle, a gaunt face, and a stern demeanor. "Menya the Whip! Something of a local legend. His leather and steel are the finest in Wati! You could not ask for a better armorsmith."
Beni claps his hands as he turns back to face the party. "Now that you know everyone of import, please! Mingle! Talk! I am sure you will find buyers for all your various goods. And try the honey!" He gives another toothy grin before hustling off with Hamapetra at his elbow, whispering hurried orders to her for more wine and cheese. You're left feeling, most likely, a little bewildered.
Ulysses mumbles, "It's Bomb and Blade," under his breath as Beni leads them around. He commits everyone's name to memory as they are being introduced; a quick glance up at Melech's wide eyes and vacant expression makes it clear that Ulysses will be doing the talking today.
After meeting everyone, he considers for a moment. He hopes to be rid of the higher-value items first, so he approaches the clerics of Nethys. "Masters Masakhet and Karam, a pleasure. What is it that you do at the Sanctum of Silver and Gold?"
Melech's poor brain is instantly overloaded at the barrage of names and titles and occupations coming from Beni. After Baketra, he has no hope of remembering any of this, so he simply looks at Nevai (oh, hmm, is Nevai with us?) and shrugs.
While Ulysses goes to hobnob with the clerics of... uh, Anubis? ... Melech approaches the Four Lanterns. "It is good to see that another group survived. There were so few of us. Do you have much to sell?"
Check the map bruh, also I already posted once. :p
Nevai decides he'll have better luck with the gnome, since Melech seems to have checked out. He follows him to the clerics of Nethys and nods solemnly to them. "Nevai Amon-Ra, servant of Horus. A pleasure to meet priests of the First Pharaoh."
Did I not tell you there's a map? I thought I did but maybe I forgot. Anyway there is a map. :D
The Lanterns nod at Melech's approach. "Not much, 'side from that there sarcoh... scrafa... uh... coffin," one of the gun-toting members says. Adelbert, you remember. Hard to forget a name like Adelbert.
The one in wizard's robes--Atherton, if you remember right--rolls his eyes. "Sarcophagus, icebrain." He turns back to Melech. "Trinkets, odds and ends, that sort of thing. Most of the magic items we have kept for ourselves. There is a spellbook if you or your companions are of the arcane persuasion."
The clerics smile warmly at the duo's approach. "Hello, Master Gnome!" the man booms. He seems to have a somewhat more bombastic personality than his female counterpart. "And a pleasure to meet a servant of the Sky God as well, of course! Your kind are rather uncommon. Forgive the indiscretion, but is that angel blood you possess?"
The woman, Intef, elbows him in the ribs hard. "Djat! Rude!"
Djat blushes and clears his throat. "Apologies. It is simply rarer still to meet one of angel blood who follows one of the old gods. Quite the chance meeting! Anyway, what brings the two of you to the auction this eve?"
Melech looks over at his companions. "Hmm. No, I don't think Ulysses uses a spellbook. He has a tiny little book that he looks at all the time, but that's something different." He sits in awkward silence for a minute. "So. What are you all going to do after this is over?"
Ulysses chuckles at Djat's embarrassment. He's never really understood the taboo about asking others about their heritage. Angel blood is cool! If he was a celestial, he'd talk about it every chance he got. "I've become quite an admirer of Horus myself! He's saved our asses more than once!" He winks up at Nevai, then turns to the clerics. "Funny you should ask! We have a number of magical items that you may find interesting! We have a dead man's headband, an alluring golden apple, and a ring of the grasping grave. I won't insult your intelligence by telling you what they do, but their particular purposes aren't in line with how Bomb & Blade adventures!" He pauses for a moment to let that sink in, then drops the big bomb. "Oh! And we have an impressive collection of ancient parchment and scrolls from a Temple of Nethys."
diplo: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
"Yes, the ring is particularly fascinating and useful, especially against the blight of undeath."
Diplomacy (aid another): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
Blech. Good thing I'm only aiding. Nevai's dumpster fire rolling continues.
The Mwangi woman on the couch has a look of polite boredom with the conversation, but the portly half-elf perks up. "Ancient records, you say? Interesting. I am in the market for ancient records, in fact. I have been trying to track down my human lineage. It is why I came to Wati; I had hoped perhaps someone would bring back records from the Dead City that might have some clue."
I'm giving you that one for free because I just happened to sit him next to the people who would also be interested in it, which I did not even think about. Because you have piqued both their interests, that will drive up the price for your lot of ancient texts and documents during the auction! Congrats.
Nevai gives the man a small nod. "Then that may just be the lot for you, good sir." He turns to the Mwangi woman. "Baketra, yes? What brings you to our humble city, miss?"
2d6 ⇒ (2, 6) = 8
Baketra wafts the spiced wine in her cup in slow, bored circles. "This and that, sweetheart. I have particular tastes. I am always looking for things that are... aesthetically pleasing." She gives the aasimar a meaningful stare, which immediately causes his bronze cheeks to redden. Her dark eyes narrow, and her full lips pout ever-so-slightly. "Not like those Okhentis. I hear they'll throw their coin at anything with a sharp edge. I like soft things myself. Sometimes hard things." She gives Nevai a look like she's going to devour him on the spot. "Got anything... hard?"
Willem snorts at Melech's question. "Leave."
Adelbert jabs him in the ribs and gives Melech a placating smile. "Ignore Willie, he don't mean nothin' by it. He weren't burdened with an overabundance of manners, as Ma used ta say. We're just uh... ill-suited to the unusually sunny disposition o' yer weather situation out here." Indeed, most of their exposed skin is lobster-red from sun- and windburn. "But he's right, we're keen on gettin' back home and all. Tamran calls."
Atherton looks around. "You know, I haven't seen any of those guys with the fancy gold masks around. Thought maybe they were a local attraction or something."
Willem shrugs. "Nah, bro. I think they're a gang. I hear they were running around the necropolis at all hours."
Atherton shakes his head. "Doesn't mean they're in a gang. Probably one of the other adventuring groups. Gotta have a gimmick, right? Too bad they're not here tonight. Wouldn't mind getting my hand on one of those masks. Something exotic to take home to Tamran, you know?"
Ulysses is overjoyed at Nevai's discomfort with Baketra. "'Aesthetically pleasing', eh?! Then we have a number of items up for auction that will interest you! One lot contains six gorgeous silver platters and matching silver goblets. The other, though -- it's something else. It contains a stunning darkwood box, a positively ancient dress that has somehow withstood the vagaries of time, and a beautiful painting. (Ulysses would go on to actually describe the painting here, but I cannot for the life of me find it in the gameplay thread.) We found them in a manse that was owned by House Pentheru, and we had to destroy a div and a nest of vargouilles to attain them!"
diplo: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
Melech is starting to regret striking up this conversation. These guys are weird. He looks around the room, then his eyes fall on the thin man in the corner. He can't remember the guy's name but he does remember that he is an armorsmith. That's something Melech knows how to talk about!
As the Four Lanterns continue to talk amongst themselves as if Melech isn't even there, he makes his way across the room and approaches the man. He reaches out a hand to shake. "Hello, sir, my name is Melech Kusafisha. Your reputation as an armorsmith precedes you. It just so happens that I am in need of an armor upgrade. We have quite a few weapons and armor lots; would you consider a trade?"
This will go well.
diplo: 1d20 ⇒ 1
Nevai stares at Baketra like a mouse caught in a trap.
"Y-yes. Lovely painting. Very nice."
Diplomacy (aid): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12
He SOMEHOW managed to aid Ulysses. XD
3d4 + 3 ⇒ (2, 2, 1) + 3 = 8
Baketra nods appreciatively. "I do like the sound of that. I will be watching for your items. And maybe a few delicacies." She literally licks her lips at Nevai. Honestly it's starting to get creepy at this point.
Menya the Whip stares coldly at the outstretched hand, then up to Melech. "Of course I'm not interested in a trade. I came here to auction, not trade. You want my wares, buy a lot like everyone else. If your lots have anything that isn't 2,000-year-old trash, I will consider purchasing it."
He turns away without addressing the slayer further.
Natty 1 is brutes macgoots, bruh.
Nevai stammers something about leaving the stove burning and
runs walks very very briskly away from the conversation. He sees Ptemenib and begins hustling over to him to say hello. He needs a familiar face.
Ptemenib looks distracted as the fellow cleric approaches and doesn't immediately react, staring off into the corner where Melech is trying and failing to make mad connects.
"Hmm? Oh. Yes, hello Nevai. I am glad to see you looking spry. The residual negative energy clinging to you does not seem to be causing too much distress?"
If Ulysses decides to join them:
"And the Bomb of Bomb and Blade! How fares your negotiations thus far, Master Alchemist?"
Melech's head drops. He feels like a complete idiot. Maybe talking to people by himself wasn't the best idea? He nods, then turns and walks away, trying to find his tiny gnome friend among the crowd.
On the way, he sees Hamapetra and decides he might as well sample the honey.
Ulysses follows Nevai, but his eyes are scanning the crowd, looking for his next sales opportunity. He nods absently at Ptemenib's question, mumbling something about it going fine while he walks away, eyes on Khammayid. He approaches the young man and gives a small bow. "Master Okhenti! Decked out like a true warrior, I see. And like any true warrior, I trust that you are proficient with a wide variety of weapons and armor? We just so happen to have quite a few items that may interest you for sale, several of them magical!" He goes on to describe the weapon and armor lots in detail. "What say you?"
diplo: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Melech catches the tail end of Ulysses's pitch as he walks up to the bored-looking youth, and quickly tries to think of something to say to seal the deal.
"Yes, uh, they are all of fine quality!"
diplo aid: 1d20 ⇒ 8
1d4 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13
Khammayid looks at them like he's wondering why the help has the audacity to speak to him directly. "Yes, I am sure it is quite... impressive." He doesn't bother to hide the sneer on his face.
Ptemenib glances bemusedly at Ulysses and Melech, then turns back to Nevai. "Not going to rescue your friends from themselves?"
Nevai considers moving over to them for a moment, then remembers Ulysses' unabashed glee at his supreme discomfort around Baketra and shrugs, sipping his spiced wine. "I am sure they can handle it."
He turns back to Ptemenib. "Fairly impressive gathering for only a few days' worth of advertisement."
Ptemenib smirks. "That was mostly Anok's doing. He knows quite a few of the nobles in the city, being from Abadar's flock and all. My crowds tend to run in less reputable places. I find friends from the shadows to be more my speed--and generally kinder company--than those that live on estates worth more than I will see in my lifetime."
Melech finally samples the 2,000-year-old honey. It... tastes like honey.
It is clear to Ulysses and Melech that they really screwed the pooch on their opening pitch with Khammayid and are unlikely to get him to bid. Checking the time (on your wrist sundial? I guess? lol) you note that you have about 16 minutes before the auction begins. There are still a couple people in the auction house you haven't spoken to yet: Manaat, the representative from the Sothis trading house; and Maru and Namaru, the grandmother and granddaughter from the minor noble house of Messhoten. From here, you can't make out much about them, although Namaru cuts a rather fetching profile.
Ulysses looks up awkwardly at Melech, and walks away from Khammayid without a word. He approaches Manaat. "Good day to you. May I ask, what is it that your trading house specializes in?"
Ulysses shakes his head. "Sadly, no. There was an impressively large chariot in one of the crypts, but we had no way of getting it out. The only thing we have that I think may interest you is a matching set of silver platters and goblets. They are of exceptional quality, as they must be to have survived a couple thousand years while most everything else crumbled around them."
diplo: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
aid: 1d20 ⇒ 4
"YEAH YOU SHOULD BUY THEM."
Nevai sighs as he watches his companions flounder. "One minute," he grumbles to Ptemenib, and heads over to where the two are speaking to Manaat.
"Dear Ulysses, you neglected to mention the best part. That dinnerware was set with flaming undead skulls!" At Manaat's incredulous look, he nods. "Quite the sight, I assure you. And quite the battle. Skulls with bright green fire for eyes swarming us like locusts from beyond the grave. Gave us a terrible fright! And I hear that Baketra" he nods in the direction of the woman in a manner letting Manaat know precisely how he feels about her "wants it for herself. Gods know what she'll be doing with it. Probably eating pastries off it like it's a common dinner plate! Can you imagine? Such a storied item?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
1d4 + 17 ⇒ (1) + 17 = 18
I dunno what the hell was going on with the roller but it seems to have sorted itself out. I'm counting your roll as an aid roll because he was literally off by one.
Manaat's eyes narrow in Baketra's direction. "Honestly. The impudence! Such a thing is a collector's item, not a pastry plate. You shall be sure I will look into its purchase, young man. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."
She moves off, apparently to go find more wine, muttering "Flaming skulls! Marvelous..."
Nevai puffs out a breath and then gives the gnome a bemused glance. "Care to try our luck with anyone else? We still have a few more minutes before the auction starts."
Things started off well, but even Ulysses's natural cheerfulness doesn't change the fact that he is a crazed-looking mad scientist gnome with burn scars on his face and hands. This is the first time Nevai has seen him truly discouraged.
He shrugs. "I guess we can mention the jewelry lot to the rich ladies?"
Melech almost wishes the auction house would be overrun by undead so he could have something to do.
Nevai nods. "May as well. Follow my lead."
I am 100% Nevai's sudden luck with rolling will hold out.
Nevai leads them to the grandmother and granddaughter. "Begging your pardon, madams. We could not help but note the staggering beauty you have been radiating from this corner of the room." He speaks primarily to the grandmother, Maru. "Such beauty deserves accouterments of an equal level of sophistication and grace. And who better than our ancient forebears? It just so happens that my associates and I found a few such items in our explorations within the noble house of Pentheru. Noble jewelry aught to stay in noble hands and on noble necks, yes? I think you will find our collection quite fetching."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
Uh, Nevai! Melech! Aid! We're so close!
Ulysses fights the urge to violently roll his eyes. Instead, he throws on his most winning smile. "Oh yes, indeed! The jewelry was guarded by a nest of vargouilles! Terrible thing, vargouilles! They can turn an unskilled adventurer into one of them with just a bite!"
diplo: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
diplo: 1d20 ⇒ 7
Melech yawns. "There was a div there too."
Namaru seems entirely enthralled with the story, but Maru gives Ulysses and Nevai a patronizing smile. "I'm sure they are quite lovely. Thank you for telling me."
Sorry guys. Literally missed it by 2. If Melech had hit that DC 10, you'd have it.
A throat clears near the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen!" the auctioneer calls, a tall, thin Garundi man in a pristine courtier's outfit. "Thank you all so much for attending this auction. Many fine relics of Osirion's past will be available for bidding, as well as several fascinating local wares and art! Please, continue to enjoy the food and wine while you bid! First up: a nearly priceless vase from the 3rd millennium AR, found right here in the Dead City..."
And the auction begins! I'll post the results of your stuff later as a summary. Let me know what you want to try and purchase and we'll see if it comes up for auction!
During the auction, all the items sell fairly well, though some better than others--a bidding war between Manaat and Baketra on the silverware drives up the price a bit--but some of the items sell for less than market. All in all though, an impressive haul.
The items on your shopping list end up being surprisingly easy gets. Little bidding gets them to you for about market price.
However, the one exception is the suit of full plate. It's gorgeous--polished steel plates with etched hieroglyphs of Ancient Osiriani. "The hieroglyphs tell the tale of the First General, Tan-ab Omat. He fought as the protector of the First Pharaoh as he battled the Spawn of Rovagug to found Osirion itself! We begin the bidding at 1500..."
You quickly outbid everyone for the full plate--everyone except the steely-eyed Menya the Whip. He glares daggers at Melech; clearly he wants it for his collection.
You can roll Bluff, Diplomacy, or Intimidate to get him to stop bidding. Otherwise, he's going to drive up the price another 10%.
Ulysses knows that Melech wants that armor; he has lamented that his armor is not good enough many times over a drink or after a fight where he took a few too many hits. He approaches Menya with his usual disarming smile.
"Good sir, I can see your interest in this armor. Might I suggest a mutually beneficial business arrangement? You let us have the armor at market value, and we come to you to upgrade our weaponry. My friends are in need of a falchion and khopesh, respectively, and my sad little crossbow isn't doing me much good."
diplo: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Melech nods. "I go through weapons like ale. One bespoke magical weapon purchase could cover your expenses for months."
diplo: 1d20 ⇒ 13
heyyyyyyy he got one!