At midday the auctioneer called for a meal break. The crowd of bidders and watchers filtered into the town square. Venders from the taverns had set up shop, selling roasted mutton and ale.
Thothen went to the Black Scars and offered them a round of ale in exchange for no hard feelings on the biddings and that he’d be willing to sell anything acquired. Their response was a resounding cheer. There were no hard feelings where ale was involved.
“This is where things will start to get interesting,” Arlin said to his friends as they gathered under an old oak tree. “Bidding will start to get more competitive now as the juicier items are brought out. Some of those people who have yet to place a bid will start dropping bags of coin.”
“How do you know this? Have you been here before?” Jarik scowled.
Prince Arlin smiled, “I have my ways of finding information out.”
“You just had to pay her a little lip service, didn’t you,” Gaston chuckled, remembering the sight of the young woman exiting Arlin’s tent the night before.
“Just believe what you want to believe,” Arlin winked.
After about an hour Zmatek Elementalists made their way through the lounging bidders and announced the auction was about to restart anew. Those who still had coin to spend filtered back into the auction hall. Everyone sat in the same positions they were in before leaving for the meal break. Some of the participants in the auction had thinned, a few here or there who had already purchased what they were after.
The auctioneer called everyone to attention and once again gave his speech about the rules during the event. With the next item that was pulled out the starting bids were noticeably higher. The auctioneer took his time calling out the bids, attempting to tease things out and maximize winning bids. Arlin was careful with the inflation bids now. Thothen hadn’t returned from lunch and the prince had not wanted to accidentally blow most of their coin on a few useless items.