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Mickey Flash

Golden Reaper [CLOSED]

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The dwarves were busy digging in the dirt, their pickaxes and shovels going deep into the soil.  This brought back instincts of days long past when they used to dig in the mines for the energy crystals.  They were good workers and could get into places others could not.  But now they were just digging for a fellow dwarf, who wanted a basement for his new home.  The land recently had its trees removed, and they were big trees that had been there for hundreds of years.  But the weather hadn’t been good in the last five years and they needed the lumber that the old trees could provide.  The land was now empty, and the dwarf who’d purchased it had come into a bit of money.  Everyone was happy for him, and more money meant more jobs in the area and spreading of that wealth.

The dwarves worked away, when there was a slight rumble from the earth.  They stopped, unsure of exactly what that was.  The rumble stopped, and they looked at each other and shrugged.  They began to dig again only to have the rumble continue.  One dwarf yelled out, as he sunk into the ground. 

The other dwarves rushed to the spot that he used to be and looked down into a dark hole.  They could hear moaning from inside, and a clever dwarf threw a light crystal inside the hole to see what it would reveal.  Inside was their friend, both of his legs obviously broken.  And around him looked to be…. statues, pillars, and what seemed to be treasures.  They looked to each other; their eyes wide.


Jo had heard about the auction in Dawic and was curious on what would be for sale.  The dwarf that the land belonged to had generously offered to give forty percent of the sales to the town.  He really had no choice though.  It was either that, or have his land made into a historical landmark.  The hidden monastery had been there for hundreds of years, and many of the items under ground had been lost treasures and artifacts that had been taken there for some reason.  Jo was interested in what they had, and if she might be able to purchase something.  She’d been doing a lot of freelance work, capturing scumbags that had been wanted by the law in the area.  She was a glorified bounty hunter.  She’d rather be a cook, but she had to make enough money to start her own restaurant first.

Auctions with ancient artifacts usually had something that could be sold off for a good price, if she could get one cheap enough.  She didn’t doubt there would be some competition.  The town of Dawic was filled with tourists, and she knew why they were there.  They had heard of the monastery, and the auction.  They were there to bid too.  The best she could hope for was to get something that didn’t look important and hope like Hell it was important.

The auction was to take place today in the middle of town, a big show she was sure.  They were already putting up stands to sell things on the side.  Some was food, some jewelry.  She didn’t know what all they would be selling.  She just knew that she needed to get a room before they were all gone.  The hotel she entered was small, plain, and dusty.  The other hotels were full, and she was told this one might have some accommodations.  She asked the guy at the counter.

“You’re in luck.  We have only two rooms left.” 

She was sure this was an event for him, since he looked proud and harassed at the same time.  She thanked him for the key and made her way to the room.  Strangely enough there was no second floor.  There was a long hallway with rooms lined on both sides.  There were four rooms per side.  She went to the door of the one with the number seven on it.  She opened to find a small bed, window, table and chair.  There was a dresser for her to put her clothes in.  This was it.  She lay on the bed and realized that it was made for dwarves.  The heels of her feet hit the end board, and the headboard touched the top of her head.  She sat back up and her black wavy curls bounced back into place.  She could lay here and be lazy, or she could see if she could get a jump on what was possibly being auctioned off.  She jumped up, and her tank top and cargo pants fell into place loosely.  She dug into her jacket, that had many pockets, and pulled out the cash she had brought.  She stuffed the bag in between her breasts, thinking that if anyone was trying to steal her money, she would definitely know about it.  She looked down to make sure it didn’t look like she had a bag of money in her bra, and when she was satisfied, she went out to the tent in the middle of town.  No one was allowed in yet, but she was sure if she poked around a little bit she could see if there was anything interesting to look at. 

Edited by Mickey Flash

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Jon watched the auction tent and crowd with multiple sets of eyes. One set was located in his own head. Another gazed out from the vantage point of a gable of a nearby roof. The final set peered out from the first story window of a nearby inn, between a chink left in the curtains.

From such a vantage point, he had all the bases covered.

The good news was nobody was giving his human form much attention. A few cursory glances here and there, of course – he still wore his chainmail-and-leather armour despite the fact he’d ditched the heavy cloak in the warmer climate – but nothing that indicated hostile intent.

There were several rich folk here too. Nobles from near or far with an interest in local history, or in powerful artefacts. They mostly mingled under their own pavilion. Some were the nobility themselves, others were representatives. They watched each other with more hostility than they did anyone else, though their eyes were alert.

Then there were the peddlers, still setting up stalls or barking out a list of their wares. And the merchants, just as eager to bit an outrageous sum as the nobles. And a small cluster of youths towards the back of the square, spelling out trouble with their hushed whispers and roaming eyes.

Though Jon’s purse was full, he doubted he could match the bidding power of the nobility or the merchants. He needed an alternative. Someone like him, middling in buying power, and capable of assisting him in the retrieval. Or he could wait until a merchant or nobility had bought it and offered his services as a treasure hunter.

Or…

The eldest of the youths walked past, giving him a knowing grin. Jon gave him a look that said, eyes on the job.

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It wasn’t until Arthur was alone in his room at the inn when the thought hit him. The mage had traveled a long way to Dawic, farther than he’d ever journeyed since arriving on Valucre. Setting his backpack on the floor next to his bed, the mage sat himself near the window and watched the passersby on the street below, time elapsing as he dreaded leaving the comfort of the inn. After all, it hadn’t been the first time that the mutant had trekked a long way for naught. However, the discovery of the old monastery had been too interesting to pass up. Hopefully, Arthur would succeed in ingratiating himself among some of the buyers, and get hired to study any of the treasures purchased at the auction.

Taking a deep breath, the mage stood from his seat and tightened both of his baldrics across his shoulders, causing the leather belts to crisscross near the middle of his torso. Arthur moves quickly, exiting the inn and made his way across town until he found the auction tent. That day, the mutant was dressed in a black short-sleeved button-up with dozens of sunflower prints, black board shorts, and a pair of grey trail-running shoes. His baldrics carried much of his magical equipment, and both of his weapons near the bottom portion of each baldric. Arthur’s long sword was sheathed on his left hip, while his rondel dagger hung from his right. The mage wore his robes on top of everything else; reaching just past his hips like a jacket, the black velvety material sat on his broad shoulders, leaving its sleeves empty and swinging in the breeze whilst also obscuring his upper body.

Arthur dipped under the entrance of the auction tent and found a seat in the back row, situating himself near the corner of the tent where he could watch the proceedings closely.

@Mickey Flash @Cheezeegriff

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Dauner finally arrived after days of walking about almost aimlessly in the wilds. Yet another town would receive him as he traveled across Valucre in search of adventure and like with the other towns that had received him, he smelled adventure brewing. He walked about in the streets of Dawic asking for information about where he was. He got to know a bit about the town and especially about an auction that was about to take place. He planned on paying a visit to the auction to see what kind of 'fun' things he could get to do. First he had to find where to stay for the night. Unfortunately for the young adventurer, he had no money on him.

Since he arrived in Valucre, he had been more concerned with his quest of journeying round this world and taking on as many adventures as he could that he didn't think of making any money. He didn't have the means to pay a room at a motel so he settled with having to sleep on a park bench. He began his search for a park first or at least a bench somewhere where he could spend the night.

After a while of searching, he finally found a place and could now go check on the auction. He wasn't particularly fund of auctions or o antiques but he knew that where there was a big event, adventure was not far off. At least that was what he thought. It took him a while of walking but he finally got there. The place was littered with merchants and nobles who by his guess where here for the auction. He walked over to a corner near the tent and stood there calmly and carefully observing the people present and watching out for some possible action he could jump in on.

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Wendin had been in town a few days working a case, small time case, decent pay ,nothing to write home about.  Sitting on the edge of the bed he ran his fingers through his black hair, careful not to disloge the feather from his former tribe. He knew the auction would be starting soon. Just the place he needed to find his culprit, a charismatic dwarf who ripped of the wrong person, and wendin was here to find him. He quickly got dressed, donned his duster and hat, made sure his weapon was in good service and headed to the auction. 

Upon arrival at the auction he quickly found a spot near the rear if the participants, using his senses to anaylze the people entering and leaving carefully, the caucophany of sensual imput in the locale was almost too much to handle. Dozens of different colognes. Perfumes, cigar smoke, nonstop chatter, shouting and dazzling displays of jewlery from noblesooking to show off. It didnt distract wendin however, hec was looking for the telltale scar along the left cheek that would give away his quarry. 

"it would be much more simple to just bring his head to the client you know.  Dwarves can be quite protective of one another, wrong ones see us, a human, attacking one of thier own? Tsk tsk much easier to just eliminate him, toss him in a bag and call it a day."  the spirit in his head pointed out. After a few moments thought he responded "Silence" and went back to the hunt

 

 

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Jo peeked into the tent, ever curious. She slowly walked in, taking in the atmosphere. There were all kinds of merchandise lining the walls. Some of them were large, looking like works of art. Some of them were tiny. There were ancient swords, and armor. She assumed those would go fast. She wasn't interested in anything like that. She had her own cutting utensils already, in her claws and fangs. She also didn't need armor when she was a werewolf and healed very quickly. These things weren't the type of valuable thing she was looking for. She was looking for something that didn't look valuable, but probably was. There were too many things for her to tell from first glance, but she was hopeful and excited by what she saw. It was like playing a game of poker, or doing a hunt. There is a lot of luck involved, and skill. You need a bit of both to win this game.

 

After getting a nice long look at the baubles in the auction, she looked around at the other people there to bid. There were all sorts. Strangely enough, not many of them were dwarves. She guess the fact that the proceeds were going to the town made every dwarf in the area become automatic winners. There was no shortage of small people here though, as the participants brought their children to the affair. Some of the kids were weaving through the crowd. She could see them dipping their hands into some pockets. She stood with her back against the tent and her arms crossed over her chest. No way the little buggers were going to be dipping into her treasure between her breasts without her knowing about it. She smirked at them, and when one saw her watching him reach into a pocket he froze. She winked at him, and he grinned back as he swiped the money bag quickly before disappearing in the crowd.

 

The auctioneer was a local man, a dwarf of some years. His voice was high and nasally, as he warned everyone that the auction was to begin in another ten minutes. The voices in the place grew quiet as this sunk in, and then they grew louder in the excitement. Jo shifted from one foot to another. She was excited too, just like the rest of them. Her wolf was pacing on the inside, and Jo felt the need to do the same. She controlled herself though, and she kept her eye out for any interesting people or things out of the ordinary.

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The crowd was getting a little impatient. Jon could see it on their faces, the way the rich fanned their ruddy cheeks, or the merchants drummed fingers on their arms. More and more pressed into the square in front of the auction tent to the point all the other tables were full. All except Jon’s. Something about his expression, perhaps, the half helm on the table and the claymore sprouting from his back like a crucifix had allowed him to keep his table all to himself. It was unintentional. A little amusing and probably for the best.

At last, a small, wrinkly dwarf with a  beard as fine as cobwebs stepped up to the dais in front of the auction tent and banged his cudgel on the lectern.

“The auction will now begin,” he said in a voice as thick as his beard. “All items found on the land of one Mister Trodin Forkweathow, in the ruins of a monastary long buried. All of indecipherable age but probably dating back to the Caperium era. The first item is a set of daggers, in middling condition…”

Jon tuned out. The crowd had turned mostly silent, and his boys had disappeared from sight, which was well and good. A silent crowd was hard to pick-pocket in, despite everyone’s attention being focussed on the dwarf and his assistant dwarf, who held up all the items for view.

Jon’s heart started to race, and despite his calm demeanour he felt butterflies in his stomach. To pull this off he’d have to be ready at a moment’s notice.

Edited by Cheezeegriff

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