Chapter 98 Our Last Stop
“Take a sea…” A short woman in worn out worker’s clothes said before she looked up from her apple. She had a dull knife in one hand and half an apple in the other. “Oh, oh no.” She whispered when she realized who the three were that were passing her on their way into the main hall.
Phantom led Darkness and Hellfire through a curtain and into a massive room cut out of the stone under Safeharbor. The benches arched around a center stage in cascading rows of rough cut stone. Most of the benches were loosely filled with everyone looking for something that couldn’t be sold out in the open. “Front or back?” Phantom questioned his charges with an exaggerated gesture and a bit of mania in his voice.
“Back.” Darkness replied. “We are here for the auction, not to end it early.”
“Then by all means.” Phantom gestured to the bench closest to them. There were two people already sitting on it. One of them turned around to see what the commotion was about and then froze in place once he noticed who was standing before him. “What was your line, Darkness? Ah, yes,” Phantom began and then leaned in close to the man. “Boo.” The man jumped and practically landed on his compatriot before they both tumbled off the bench. Phantom shooed them away. “Skitter away little rats.” He then stepped aside and waved Darkness and Hellfire to their seats.
Neither of the pair showed any expressions as they took their offered seats. Shadows covered the benches before either of them sat down so the grime and red stone dust wouldn’t cling to their high end clothes. Phantom took the seat at Darkness’s left while Hellfire took the seat to his right. Together, the raggedy tans, browns, and greens with the dusty white mask made Phantom blend in with the rest of the crowd, or it would have if everyone didn’t recognize the mask and swords at first or second glance. The beautiful Lady clad in silver with perfect skin that almost seemed to glow a steely purple in the dim glowing stone light was practically a beacon of grace and power. In between the Phantom of Safeharbor and the stunning Lady Defector of Contantis was the man that some still had nightmares about. The Human Demon, The Specter of Death, The Legend Slayer, The Lord of Darkness, these were the names those in the room knew him by. His pale skin stood stark against his black clothes, mask, and hair. The smirk marking his face made everyone who dared to look feel a sudden sense of dread.
The rest of those present wore a mixture of masks made of anything from fabric with eye holes cut into it to velvet bird masks and everything in between. There were some merchants, servants, thieves, and beggars in attendance and their chosen clothes ranged from dusty ballroom coats to tied together rags. If Darkness had worn a cloak and made an effort to not stand out then he could very well have made it through the entire auction without anyone even knowing it was him. He had no doubt that Phantom had a spare mask that was less well known that he could have worn. Hellfire on the other hand was never going to go unnoticed. There was no way to hide what she was without drawing even more attention to her. One thing that everyone had in common in the underground auditorium was their lack of openly worn armor. Most of them didn’t have exposed weapons either but Phantom’s curved swords were as notorious as his mask so they were on full display.
“All right, you lot!” A man in a tattered tophat wearing clerk’s clothes walked out from behind the large curtain that hung behind the stage at the center of it all. “Are you ready for… what’s got y’all so silent?” He questioned and looked around. He peered out from under his hat and through his red band with eye holes that served as his mask. It only took him a second to notice Hellfire and then the man next to her and the man next to him. “Ah, I see, we have some special guests. Well, no matter, let the auction begin!” The man’s ability to roll with the punches of the trio’s appearance showed that he would have been successful if he had chosen a more honest career of showmanship. “On to the first!” He shouted and a woman dressed much like him but without the hat wheeled out a cart with a small assortment of vials and glass bottles.
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“Stolen from Mister Albert Henry, the Alchemist on Seventeenth Street.” Phantom spoke quietly to Darkness. The dark mage nodded once in understanding but otherwise kept quiet.
“An assortment of aids and ills without label nor marking. Only an Alchemist or wise wizard could identify these items but there is no doubt that lying inside one of these miraculous magical…” The auctioneer’s voice trailed off as he tried to find another word to alliterate but failed. “these bottles, lies something that could save you in your harshest time of need or slay your enemies with but a sip or drip.” The auctioneer went on. “We are starting the bid at five gold coins for the eight of them.” A man in the crowd raised his hand. “I see five, do I see- ah six, what abou- beautiful seven!” He went on as hands were raised. At ten he jumped to fifteen and then twenty. The bidding stopped at seventy five. The man who won had to walk up to the front and take his prize immediately. There was no waiting nor trust in a rogue’s ability to pay. The money was exchanged for all to see and the items nestled into a small wooden box lined with hay.
“That’s about it.” Phantom explained. “It’ll go on like this until they run out of goods.”
“How do the suppliers get paid?” Darkness questioned.
“The blackmarket buys the items off of the supplier beforehand. They probably paid twenty five to fifty gold for those vials and the rest is profit.” Phantom explained.
“Where does the money go afterwards?” Darkness wondered.
“To the Guild.” Phantom replied. “From there it’s dust in the wind.” Their entire conversation was spoken in quiet whispers with as little motion as possible so the onlookers would have a hard time eavesdropping on them.
“Next up is a bit of a treat!” The auctioneer called out. “A Bottomless Box! This one has some years on it but we guarantee its stability and performance, in fact, we will hold off on it until we allow you all to bid on what lies inside!” He reached into a wooden box the entire way up to his shoulders, with both hands, and paused for dramatic effect. He quickly ripped out a fine curved sword that looked a lot like the ones the V’Nova soldiers used. It lacked any enchantments, unlike the real ones, but most of those in the room would be none the wiser. “Some of you may be wondering where a wicked blade like this came from and, of course, I cannot spare the details exactly, but any of you who had the fortunate ability to witness the great battle against the…” He trailed off as he remembered Hellfire’s presence in the back row. “The raid from our estranged neighbors, would recognize this blade in a mere moment. That’s right! This is a blade of elvish make from the empire down under! We start the bidding at five hundred gold!”
The auction continued past the fake sword and beyond the Bottomless Box. It moved on after a collection of jewelry, some fake but most real, until finally it reached something that the trio had expected but hoped not to see.
“Finally, our last stop before the main event!” The auctioneer called out. A woman and her two daughters were pushed out onto the stage. Their iron chains hung heavy and clattered against each other. They were dressed in sackcloth long shirts that hung to their knees. To call them dresses would be a disservice to the article. Their feet were bare and they were shivering from the relative coldness of underground. They looked healthy enough, all things considered, but they looked like they hadn’t eaten in at least a few days. The three women had dark brown hair, tanned skin, and pale olive green eyes. They looked utterly terrified. “All in great condition from across the sea, these lovely ladies have been kept whole,” He winked towards the audience. “and healthy for our wonderful customers. The older two can speak, read, and write Overworld Standard and Elvish. The younger one can too, though not very well, or so I am told. Their ages are thirty one, thirteen, and seven. Due to the oldest and youngest’s ages, we will lower the cost by a few gold but their perfect health and the middle one’s age will raise it a bit more. In all, we will start the bidding at three thousand g…ol…d…” His voice died out as the back of the room lit up in an orange blaze and the weight of million grudges descended upon the auditorium.