The First Chapter
Conversations died down, waves crashing behind the exhausted crowd. The Auctioneer glared at the small crowd of people. He scoffed and chuckled a bit as he rested his arms behind his back. He then paced back and forth, the eyes of his audience started to follow him, almost hypnotizing them.
The crowd started to mutter again, the Auctioneer didn’t pay any mind to it.
“Hurry it up will ya!” Someone from the crowd yelled out at him.
“Hold ya horses me, friend!” The Auctioneer rasped out, he gave another soft chuckle to the crowd as he yanked out an item of radiating gold and silver.
The whole crowd gasped while the Auctioneer did a quick "HAHA!"
“This here is King Luther’s forgotten Scepter, all the way from little ole Chrylotine! It was a gift for the Myrefalls, but they threw it out! So I was there to pick it up.”
“Just get to it already! How much is it worth!” A random man yelled out, he kept pushing pushing and shoving the other patrants until he jumped up into the front.
“More like what be yer name?”
“Hugo, Hugo Ebner.” He said with pride while taking a bow.
The Auctioneer groaned and took a couple of steps back as he held up the Scepter and held up two fingers and a silver coin with a sun ins on it.
“20 Sillow for the Scepter!” He mused along as the crowd gasped in awe at the price.
Then, people started to shout numbers, people held their leather pouches and their deerskin purses. Shaking them as their life depended on it. Even the sounds of the coins jingling around in the pouches and purses almost sounded musical.
“45 Sillow!” Hugo yelled out as he stood on a table, shaking his coins. The crowd went silent for a while then continued their shouting and screaming. The Auctioneer leaned back against the wall of his makeshift wooden stage, chuckling and giggling with glee.
He had enough of it, Hugo stormed off to the front of the stage, pushing and pulling people out of his way, muttering curse along the way “Hey, mate, how about-”
“10 Aurum!” Someone interrupted Hugo and made the crowd speechless.
People started muttering, Hugo glanced to his right and glared at the person who interrupted him.
It was a yellowish skinned man with a slight point to his ears. He wore a smile and glaring daggers for eyes. His grungy face and scruff made him look a lot older than the way he spoke.
His clothes have seen better days, holes littered the vest he wore and stains were everywhere on the trousers he wore. An empty dagger sheathe rested on the right of his hips while his undershirt was grungy and unbuttoned from the top.
Hugo scoffed and rolled his eyes, he brushed off his shoulder like there was dirt on his neatly detailed jacket. His hands then lost grip of his coin purse as soon he saw The Auctioneer chuckling and laughing in the corner.
“You Stoikia people are crazy, especially the Elf, acting all rich and all. You a member of the Quindrake household?” The Auctioneer mused, “Ah, who am I kidding, they’d kill anyone with clothes like that, even their own family.”
He gave a slight chuckle and squatted in front of the dirty man.
“You got a name?” He questioned while looking at him with squinted eyes.
The man smiled and gave up his glaring eyes and gave him a pleasant look, his eyes didn’t shine like jewels but to The Auctioneer, they seemed valuable.
“Borrison, Borrison Fen. Or just Boris.” Boris replied, “Now, that Scepter please.”
He held his coin pouch, it looked empty, but as soon as he shook it, the sounds of the coins sounded more musical and more elegant than the quiet silver coins and the dull copper coins everyone else had.
“So, are all elves rich or something?” Hugo asked as he leaned against the stage, crossing his arms.
Boris squinted his eyes and glared at Hugo, who was also glaring at him.
“If you are rich mate, you think you can lend me a couple of brass, if not coin if you-”
“Define rich.” Boris interrupted Hugo, who bit his tongue. Boris smiled wryly at him as Hugo stepped back and exhaled. He held his hand out at the same time.
“Ebner, at your service.” He said after Boris took his hand and shook it. Hugo’s grip kept getting stronger but Boris kept his grip ahead of his.
But then the two snapped back when The Auctioneer called out once more, getting everyone’s attention.
“10 Aurum, going once!” He yelled out, people started to leave, others stayed and started to count their coins, some even just sat down.
Hugo smirked a bit as soon as he pulled out another pouch, this time with a louder elegant jingle.
“Aaaaannd, we are-”
“20 Aurum!” He yelled out, Hugo’s face dripping sweat, he still wore his smirk and chuckled a bit.
The Auctioneer also chuckled a bit too, his face was a little pale but he cleared his throat and
“Uh, 20 Aurum, going once anyone?” He asked the crowd, he swallowed a big lump in his throat. Smiling nervously.
“G-going twice?” He said them each a couple of seconds longer.
“30 Aurum,” Boris said chuckling as Hugo fell to his knees, jaw hanging. The Auctioneer face was now white as bed sheets. He set his back straight then cleared his throat again.
“All right son, you earned it. If I get any more than 30 Aurum, I am going to go mad. So he re, just take the damned thing.” The Auctioneer pleaded.
Hugo gritted his teeth as he glared at Boris. He breathed in and out. His head started to hurt, sweat started to drip off of him, nausea took control of him as his heart felt like it was in his throat. He gritted his teeth and fist, he then stormed off, leaving Boris confused.
“I need to relax,” Hugo muttered as he stormed off.
“So, your name is Boris? Like Boris Allerton?” The Auctioneer asked.
“Nah, it’s just Boris, Borrison Fen.”