Chương 1685: [1582] – Y07.082 – A Man of Silvers VII

The air remained tense. Thankfully, the half elf hadn't bid on the rapier, however, it was time for the members here to open up their purses. Though the warriors had bid on some of the mundane weapons, and some had even bid on the magical items on offer, and while most were now mostly tapped out, they still remained to watch the true battle begin.

"Ahm Mohammed, I'd like to have a little chat with you after the end of the auction," Adam said, though as he did so, he stood, for he needed to slip away to relieve himself.

"I am willing to lend my ear," Mohammed confirmed, though as to what, he was uncertain, for the half elf's behaviour during the last few bids was rather awkward. He squirmed so much from bidding on the rapier, they all assumed he was counting the last of his silvers.

"What a relentless young man," Alluard Emarak said once the half elf slipped away, following the half elf's form as it grew ever smaller with every step.

"It seems he may have overspent on the herbs," the Grand Alchemist half joked, though the remaining companion was fairly certain the half elf was probably counting his silvers to spend on the last two items, for he had disappeared for a short time before the auction had begun in earnest, enough time to allow him to Identify the various magical items, including the greatest two on offer.

'It seems the rest are no longer planning on holding back,' Azim thought, feeling the awkwardness in the air, while the warriors and Saib within his little outpost, sipping his kafa lightly, the gentle warmth threatening to alight his heart, but he would not aggravate the half elf for this singular auction. What was a loss on but one auction?

There were more auctions he could spend his coin, and it was not even the seasonal auction, in which one would find whatever treasures could scupper onto the galley, of the storm which would soon sweep through the auction house. Finally. As the half elf took his spot beside his wife, having used his magic to dry off his sleeves, he reached for his kafa, and the music began to fall into a gentle hum, the desserts freshly served, the drinks refilled. It was time for the slaughter.

"It is named the Reaping Rukh," Dina said, revealing the large greatsword, which was simple in design, save for the entire sword was rather dark. It did not appear overtly impressive.

"It is a blade of great power. It is considered Greater Enhanced, and upon striking a foe, also allows one to regain their vitality to allow them to remain within the fray for a greater time." Reaping Rukh (+2 Greatsword) Requires Attunement Deals 2D6 slash +1D6 necrotic damage. Reaping. You regain Health equal to the necrotic damage die of the Reaping Rukh.

'It's only slightly below my current axe,' the half elf thought, though the Reaping property was probably better in the hands of a Rage Dancer.

"It was once wielded by Red Rahim, and was said to have been lost when the sea swallowed him whole," Dina said, clasping her hands together, bowing her head gently.

"I shall allow the honoured guests to set the pace."

"I will set the pace at fifty thousand," the Faro began, for the blade would go for at least that much.

"Fifty five thousand," Mohammed called.

"Sixty thousand," Muhammed called, causing the nobles and merchants to look his way with a curious glance, for surely he wouldn't bet unless he had such a sum, but would he have such a sum now? His eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Seventy thousand," Emarak bid, raising a cup to his lips.

"Seventy five thousand," a particular young woman called, in her early twenties or so, though her hands were too rough to be a noble or merchant, her physique suggested she was a decent warrior. She had only bid on a few weapons earlier, managing to procure a dagger for herself, but nearby a worker held a giant blade that was far too big for her.

She was as tall as the average woman, but built quite strong, and she wore cream attire, a grey scarf loosely around her head, though her dark hair curled across her shoulders.

"You should understand, I have the responsibility to speak up when you auction a greatblade in front of someone like me!" The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

'She's cool,' Adam thought, raising a cup to his lips as they continued to raise the price, five thousand silver at a time, until it finally almost reached a hundred thousand, the equivalent of ten thousand gold. Had he sold anything for such a price? He was fairly certain he hadn't. He stared at the greatsword, which he could perhaps enchant himself, perhaps even greater than such, but…

"One hundred thousand," Azim called, the blade now reaching the limit of the acceptable price to overspend. Adam sipped his kafa lightly as another bid on the blade, though it seemed Dina was allowing quite some time before finalising the transaction, noting how people were still discussing between one another, and since they were at the penultimate item of interest, it would be rude to rush things.

"Are you not interested in such a fine blade?" Merchant Mohammed half joked.

"I wanted the others to have their fun before I began bidding," the half elf replied, sipping his kafa, the warmth spreading through him, and as it reached the tips of his fingers, he placed down the cup. Mohammed's playful smile quickly shifted, his eyes now carrying worry, since the half elf probably shouldn't bid. He had caused too much of a stir, and though he had at least eased some of their worries earlier, he had still caused some people to lose face.

"One hundred thousand, by the great Azim Shums of the Setting Sun Merchants," Dina called for the first time, though the next call wouldn't be at least for another minute.

"One hundred and ten thousand," Aliya finally called, causing her grandfather to peek down towards her.

"Kal Zayan has worked so dutifully for our family, such a fine weapon should reward him for his assistance."

"I suppose it would be quite useful to send to him, the Reaping Rukh against the Reavers," Mohammed said, his eyes sparkling lightly, since his granddaughter had opened up the path for his family to show off.

"What can I do now that we have set our eyes on it."

"If only it didn't suit my grandaunt so well," he, of all the people, said, placing down his cup of kafa.

"One hundred and… twenty thousand silver?" Mohammed blinked, his eyes turning to the side, towards the half elf, who was so overtly picking a fight with him. Did he not hear their reasoning? If he did, he should have stepped back.

'Did I bring a tiger into the fox den?' Aliya side eyed the half elf, for he had now given others justification to step forward.

"One hundred and thirty thousand may be more suitable," Emarak mused, nodding his head to Dina.

"One hundred and forty thousand, surely?" Muhammed, whose eyes sparkled with greater mischief, called.

"Haha!" the young muscular woman roared, grinning wide. However as she made to bid, the merchant beside her picked up a cup and offered it to her, stopping her from causing a scene. If she bid that much, her father may actually beat her until she could no longer wield such a blade. If nothing else, the merchant himself might be beaten senseless.

"One hundred and fifty thousand," Adam said, allowing the old man to play him so easily, though since he had stepped onto the stage for the sake of his grandaunt, was he allowed to lose?

"I hope you do not take it to heart," Aliya said, only now realising the double edged blade Adam was.

"One hundred and sixty thousand."

"Why would I take it to heart? It isn't every day I can face off against the likes of the finest merchants in Aswadasad!" Adam half exclaimed, and a smile crept across his lips, the kind of smile which had lain beneath the surface, but since it had come to this, the half elf reached up towards the sword, and clasped his fingers around it as though he had already claimed it.

"Two hundred thousand." Mohammed wasn't sure how much they would need to spend to try and get Adam from killing himself, but seeing the look within the half elf's eyes, as though he had become a crazed beast, with only the sword within his eyes. Lanarot looked up towards her eldest brother, who seemed to hold such a look within his eyes, and the girl sat upright, crossing her arms.

'How foolish. To go against my brother. How foolish.'

'Did I show too much mercy?' the half elf thought, noting the look within Mohammed's eyes.

'I should have beaten the Fariq publicly. Did they think I was only stronger than the Fariq Thanwi by a little? Did they think I was lucky? You should be more afraid of me! Didn't I already threaten you enough before?' This time it was different, Vonda thought. The half elf's eyes were not full of anger. They were glistening with a slight annoyance, but there was a seriousness within them. It was rare to see her husband hold such a rationality, even if it did seem more like he was a crazed beast at the moment.

Though she wished to calm him, she was certain she shouldn't reach out to him at this time, especially since he had chosen to spoil a particular grandaunt.