The final portion of the auctions had blown Livia away, on the surface–but her thoughts had barely been able to leave the gadget they had purchased. She really couldn’t wait to start trying it out. It's got to have some crazy hidden functions. The thing just looked too cool for the rather mundane extra features that the [Auctioneer] had mentioned. Charging it faster by way of drowning it in water? The elegantly dressed woman could count on Livia coming at her with a proper interrogation when the time came to collect, if she was even present when it was time to make the actual exchange. Otherwise Livia would be coming at some other sorry sucker for information. Surely they know who's the creator?
Livia had been sitting there worried at first, almost panicking over how bold she’d been with their funds. They spent 30 000 silver, and they didn’t even have it. They currently only had 28800, and blowing that would mean they needed to find someone to borrow from to afford the rest of their remaining preparations, including recruitment and finding an information broker to squeeze for some detailed news of the region they were heading into in just a few days.
But the real reason she was panicking at the time was because of how little they really knew of the artifact; unless they figured out how to make it earn them some profits–and fast–then the others would for sure start to question if their funds couldn’t have been better spent on something else, and just leaving the advanced farming tool, that none of them had any experience working, for later.
They might even suggest handing responsibility for the financial decisions over to the more organized Elin, she was their [Accountant] after all. And Livia wouldn’t even mind it, all that much. If it wasn't for the implication. She really wasn’t the type to get greedy over the final say on every purchase, but she still felt that it indicated something of the level of trust that their members had in her, and she really didn’t want to lose this part of her duties. She was already painfully aware how she wasn’t a great fighter; if Livia couldn’t deal with handling financial decisions either, then Livia would have to find a way to specialize. That meant being forced to try and upgrade her Class as early as possible, in order to dive deeper into her niche; something Livia sorely wanted to avoid. As things stand, a generalist Class is the way to go, for sure. Certainly if we're gonna keep growing this fast with me at the head. I need to be ready to lead all kinds.
This world and its Classes were already so complicated, that before making a final decision on how her own Class should turn out Livia wanted as broad a picture of her options as possible; which meant focusing on the fundamentals, and staying focused on upgrading her Skills as a generic leadership [Class] until you had unlocked as many advanced choices as possible.
That complicated Dormata marketplace where Livia had been fighting her battles this week, they were a challenge that every aspiring [Merchant]-lord had to overcome; and Livia truly believed you could not do so for long without fully trusting to your instincts. Learn as much as possible, but then grab for it.
But the reason Livia wasn’t more worried about the money aspect of things was because they’d put their limit at 30k for a reason. One that she suddenly remembered and which helped ease at least one of their worries. It was what she’d realized as the final portion of the evening’s auctions started: They still haven’t sold the Cloven mead, it must be part of the ‘saving the best for last’ section!
But then what if it doesn’t sell, people still barely even know what it is… Livia had to shake herself to forcefully banish such pessimistic thoughts, causing Kalle to look over with a raised brow. Livia ignored him–and when their turn finally came along, all Livia felt was stuffed to the brim with excitement and expectation, fears forgotten.
They had decided to act modest with their expected gains; 1800 silver for each of their three kegs, announced as the starting bid. As long as that sold, it would be enough to cover their own bidding and leave some over for the looming expedition. They’d still have to borrow a bit, but maybe only half as much. And getting it sold at that price was still more than twice what they’d have gotten selling it in Salcret. Everything was just a lot more expensive here, but it certainly worked in your favor when you had something to sell.
Instead the bidding turned out in a way they would have never predicted.
The magnetic woman from before came on stage, the true [Auctioneer], still in her sparkling cyan gown; she stood in front of their kegs from the boondocks and gave them a pitch that Livia and Elin could still only aspire to match. "Presenting, once more from house Shoal, our first premium item of a celebratory nature: [Cloven Honeybee Mead]. Brewed by a hidden master of the frontier,” Images of the drunken idiot making mud angels on the orchard hill flashed through Livia's mind. "this enchanted honey mead comes from Cloven stock but has the Human touch, it is guaranteed to knock off your socks and stiffen your... Yes, you'll have an evening to remember, so long as you do not overindulge of course, it is still alcohol and the magic is psychedelic, not a memory booster!"
Harold gave Livia a hard, pleading look. Hell, maybe we should keep it ourselves, is is too late? Hah.
When their wares came on stage it started out slowly… With separate bids for each of the kegs, despite how you could signal a bet on all three. Each raise had been no more than 500 silver, and there had been a break followed by intrigued tittering after each.
But then someone from a balcony in one of the other buildings had suddenly put in a bid for all three; at 3000 silver.
And that suddenly seemed to set them off. It was as if they’d all suddenly caught on to a secret, like the worth of the kegs had suddenly been confirmed by Skill. The crowd in house Shoal put up an especially stiff resistance to the couple in the darkened balcony; in the end it stopped at 5500 a keg, and Livia felt like she wanted to go ahead and swoon, just to be dramatic.
The rest of the night after that had passed by in a blur; and only the highlights remained to be remembered afterward.
They'd swept in like a wave when they got back to the Legume–with the evening's results confirmed–and with auction houses having sent the packed crowds of winners and losers on their merry way to pick up their goods on the following day.
Then they partied like only a Salcret [Guild] filled with [Druid]s, [Warlock]s, [Guild Master]s and [Pugilist]s knew how.
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Oscar looked around the stacked main room of the Legume; practically the whole city were out partying this night, celebrating the summer; unless you had even more stuff to celebrate.
And boy did they have a lot to celebrate.
Sten was looking back on top, and he even got a little into the drinking tonight, despite often abstaining. Now he had on a fixed expression and was playing with Harry, only a few feet from Jane, who repeatedly looked away, but kept getting drawn back in and forced to smile at the extremely hairy cat's antics. She was spending hours every day cleaning up hairs after it at this point, once the owner asked Livia to please get her to do something about the creature's mess. The staff had been doing such a good job before then that the [Guild] members hadn’t thought of it being a problem until it was mentioned in passing as an escalating issue. Jane didn't seem to mind it, as long as she got to keep her cat in peace.
Harold and Kalle were taking turns outdrinking, out-armwrestling and out-chessing each other, with the loser having to down another filled mug, compromising them further–but despite this the underdog had somehow kept rallying through sheer determination.
And even Lena, their [Weaver] and Ronia the Captain were present and making merry for once, after having both spent almost the entire week being out so late that they came home and went straight for their rooms to recuperate; while having been out on very different errands.
But Livia and Elin were going the most crazy of all, they were both sloshed and singing songs together with the main room's other guests; it was the weekend so there was a regularly scheduled musician present, who’d come by to entertain. Somehow it turned into sing-along.
Oscar had only had one drink and decided not to go too crazy, but the mood really was infectious. Only their new addition Moa had retired early this evening; but it wasn’t because she’d seemed grumpy or like she hated a party, rather she just hadn’t had any part in their victory, and had spent the day training to the point of exhaustion, looking eager to not be left behind.
And so Oscar went to sing, but after he got too embarrassed at his voice cracking, and as the two business ladies kept laughing at him–until he turned as skittish as a cat waking up at a blacksmith–he fled to go have at least one, second drink for the night.
It was a special occasion after all, and if he got properly tipsy he’d be having a far easier time with himself messing up too, however inevitable, what with being drunker now too.
But as he got to the bar it turned out a drink was already waiting; Sanders, the bartender, let him know how a man in the corner booth had bought one for him, and was apparently happy for him to take it and enjoy.
When the man was pointed out to him, Oscar was met with a serious look and a tip of the man’s beret. At first he thought the man might be flirting, Oscar had been getting in tremendous shape after all.
But the man was clearly dressed as a warrior; and Oscar liked to think he would at least have gone to the effort of dressing up a bit if that was the intention. This definitely had the smell of something else.
Since Oscar had plenty of friends nearby to call on, if the guy turned out high level and rude, he figured there was no harm in bringing his drink over and seeing what the man had to say.
They spoke for a few minutes. As it turns out the rough man was a [Gladiator Recruiter], and he was here about seeing if Oscar had any interest in being trained for joining a team. It was only 2 year-commitment as opposed to the militia’s 3, and the training took only six months of that before you started earning money. Not to mention how there was a sign-up bonus of 500 silver.
It was a decent offer, for someone not already committed, but Oscar smelled something fishy and he soon let the man know that he appreciated the drink; but really wasn’t interested in abandoning his current [Guild], even if it was not strictly focused on fighting.
The man took the rejection with grace, and even had the decency to give Oscar a heads up.
As the young [Sentinel Squire] looked to Sanders at the bar again, the man held up his hand with all five fingers spread. Oscar took a closer look around the room, and he wasn’t kidding. Oscar would not even be exaggerating later when he told the fellows how he’d gotten 5 simultaneous tips of the hat from different men around the room, all waiting to get him properly sloshed and signed on over the course of the evening.
He decided then and there that he’d had enough; they were leaving late tomorrow and he had no intention of being dragged into some further trouble. Instead Oscar went on one more round around the room to enjoy the evening, and then he went straight for his room to have a bit of privacy, with his shield.
Just this morning they had learned something new of it from Redd’s experiments, and they’d figured out something that Mr Beard and Livia had both been suspecting. The Enchanted, [Quest]-provided shield was in fact a growth item; someone had once empowered it to grow and diminish in tune with the bond to its owner.
But that’s not what made it unique, plenty of Enchanted items had the power to strengthen over time with use, so long as you kept it in good condition.
Rather when Redd had lifted the item from where they had lain it overnight–on top of the other cheap shield they had bought–they discovered something that at least provided an answer to why Oscar’s shield had promptly sucked on and got stuck to Moa’s during their duel, and had refused to let go.
Oscar sat on his bed with the shield in his hands, vision swimming slightly from the earlier drinks. I still can’t believe I’ve done anything to deserve getting so lucky.
It was also Enchanted with [Cannibal].