The auction house square was abuzz.

Every week, as the workers got awarded their weekend and the evening descended, the auctions rolled around.

Each house competed, and each of the auctioneers could host thousands of participants. But the nifty thing, at least if you asked Livia, was this: All the auctions from all six houses were displayed on each stage.

They used an item that had a shimmering screen flicker into existence, one that looked almost like a cinema screen once the Spell activated, and while you did have one of the auctioneers live behind it working on stage for the local house, once they stepped off–that’s when you heard a celebratory tune for a short interlude, before it was usually one of the other houses' turns to impress the audience–then the next item got displayed from the broadcast of the connected item from right next door.

It was the niftiest piece of [Enchanting] they had encountered so far, if you discounted the incineration toilets. Which I’ll do gladly, thank you very much.

It was so alike the technology that Livia was used to that it became all too easy imagining everyone around her were medieval RPG cosplayers from home for a minute… Until you spotted the few oddities that looked far too real, and who could not help but stand out by the sheer power of their presence. Like the Foxkin cultivator who was up on one of the balconies, seemingly meditating and gathering little flickers of light to his core–or the one-headed Ogre, which might even be the same one they’d seen in the markets earlier–unless the massive ones, with such a deep blue skin-tone were a lot more common than Livia had been led to believe.

Livia listened to the buzz once they'd found their seats. Apparently they had missed some sort of cocktail hour in the summer sun outside, before the hall officially opened. No matter. Even had they heard of it last minute they may well have decided it wasn’t worth losing the time it would take to go here early and socialize. They had been busy enough using it to instead figure out what they truly wanted most from here, despite how they’d had all week for their research.

Margaret had even joined them after her shift at the library, since she’d heard a lot about the auctions but hadn’t yet gotten the chance to observe one personally, and what better opportunity than when some friends had a spare ticket over and were all excited for a sale- and possibly a big purchase of theirs?

In the end they had decided on a few well-known Enchanted tools and Natural Treasures to be on the look-out for, but with auctions there was no telling when something of unknown origin and powers could show up.

But then again, they were only here for a week total, and they were leaving tomorrow. These auctions were a great place to get lucky, but the perfect item for them might just as well be coming up next week instead. And if nothing great showed up then it had been decided they wouldn’t be spending their funds just for the sake of it; they’d spend half on more mundane preparations and save the other half for whatever plans they came up with once they’d decided on a location worthy of fighting to make their own.

Which was clearly the sensible course of action; since they’d be in a position to start earning an income then, and be able to have someone stay in the city to attend the weekly auctions at all times.

But if the right magic item was being auctioned tonight then it threw all those considerations out the window. For the right advantage they might just stay around an extra week to earn some more, maybe even lend at steep interests for a while to keep afloat, while they went out and started building. With the right item it could be well worth it, especially if it came down to something that could be further developed into an edge that only she, or possibly Margaret, so far knew how to leverage. Hah, not being the only one who remembers home really will take some getting used to.

Livia looked over and noticed how Margaret and Redd had on fancier clothes than the rest of her [Guild] members who had been too caught up planning, now the two were talking quietly.

And the other piece of action tonight was of course seeing what their own goods sold for. Tonight was when they hopefully saw a bidding war go down for their three kegs of [Cloven Honeybee Mead], but as usual Livia was already planning and mentally preparing for the worst too. She’d seen no similar products on sale yet in Dormata. Nothing of a magical quality. And neither had Albert, not in any of his pub runs, nothing but cheap imitations. So while they might garner interest, their product still relied on someone–hopefully several someones–taking a chance and looking for some stronger brews for nothing but pleasure.

It took about 35 minutes, but once the proceedings began, the hall descended into complete darkness while the stage was suddenly lit up with magic strobe lights.

They had all been given bid paddles that were made out of some slightly fragrant material that glowed yellow-green in the dark; with a painted number in the middle.

It was mostly for ambiance, but unless you had an amazing mind for memorizing where everybody went to sit, or were looking out for someone in particular, then the bidding was practically anonymous this way as well. Not that most people seemed to want to hide their winnings… When they arrived here at the beginning of the week plenty of [Merchant]s had still been bragging about finds they’d made at the previous week’s auctions.

The first item… Sigh. It was nothing special. It was a decorative hauberk, providing decent protection but most of all built to be light while remaining decently sturdy. But oh, how it shone. It was apparently made with the Classless in mind, made for the scion of a richer family who did not mind looking a tad vain perhaps.

They gave each item 90 seconds of description, combined with a sales pitch. And then 60 seconds for everybody to bid. Only if the item exceeded 2.5 times its opening bid would the bidding be extended for another 60.

That did not happen this time. But a couple of [Merchant]s who apparently knew the right family to forward it to were happily engaged in a chicken race, trying to eat into the others profits–without going so far as to risk getting stuck with the item and having to sell at a loss.

The next item was a [Frost Enchanted] battleax which the owner claimed to have unearthed at an ancient battlefield, but which was more likely just stolen in some distant borderlands.

And the next one after that was actually a Hexstone, quite similar to the one they'd used at times in Salcret, but this one seemed like it must be more expensive since it could be aimed and used at range, while their more basic version had had to be in direct contact with the affinity you wished to identify. Could be useful, hm. If only were were richer, bah.

Despite not being very rare, the item went for several thousand silver once the haggling was done.

This was how it went, one item after another. The six auction houses all had a specialty: Armor, weapons, Enchanted general goods, Class specific items–which were often used to gain the Class in the first place–Natural Treasures and ingredients, and finally magic consumables, which was the house where their own wares had ended up.

Not that the auction houses were above stepping on each other's toes for profits, once in a while–when it was worth it. But mostly they stuck to their set domain, since they had the most expertise at hand to discern the true nature of products within their specialty. And there was such a huge list of items to identify, so any [Merchant] with goods of real value, who was looking for a fair evaluation, would naturally go to the people with the most knowledge.

But there were also several reasons why you might not. Including personal relationships, having not gotten what you expected from an auction in the past; and yes, perhaps even wanting to run a fast one by a lesser evaluator.

Of course, the auctions all happening in tandem meant you could never blame a lack of exposure. Your products would be seen, of that much you could be sure whichever House you chose. How the sales pitch was phrased though; that’s where the auction houses integrity came into play, and where the customer truly benefited from the fierce competition between the bordering rival houses.

The dynamic became much more clear to both Livia and Elin after the first of several finales. At the end of each hour was a featured, premium item from each house, one that was given twice as much time and attention; the added spectacle clearly meant to give you something to look forward to, and help combat the monotony of seeing item after item go past, most of which might not even be relevant to your interests, unless you were a [Merchant] of particularly great means or entrepreneurial spirit.

The first three were impressive; maybe some of the most impressive magic items Livia had set her eyes on yet.

Everything up to this point had been presented by assistants, but now there was a magnetic new woman on stage, who must surely be an actual [Auctioneer], made up in a cyan gown with silver trimmings and an aura to match with the opulence of the evening. “Presenting, from house Shoal, our first premium item of the evening: [Valanyr’s Devastation]”

To Livia’s shock the woman actually projected the System approved name in the air in front of her, and the text even had a color reminding the [Guild Master] of budding spring leaves. Must be some sort of Skill. Must be.

But when Livia tried her [Mark of Worth] on the woman she found that it was somehow blocked.

The actual item was a warhammer with a spiked top; it looked to have been made partly in stone, but with metallic edges that looked almost obsidian, and the [Auctioneer] explained that the Enchantment was designed to raise a forcefield in front of you every time you struck downwards from overhead, strong enough to block arrows, so long as they were not empowered by some Skill, and even those would be weakened.

The bidding started at 13 000 silver and only went up from there. They used up the full allotted time in the end, and only barely missed the 2.5 mark that would have called for an extension of the bidding.

And that was only the first of three. Livia was seeing dollar-signs, and the wealth that was about to trade hands that evening made her picture their future all too clearly; they were going to make some goddamn waves in this place–for sure within a few years. My [Guild] members better believe it.

The third item was an improved Townguard field pillar, and Livia was sorely tempted to strike then and there, just for the security it could bring to wherever they decided to settle down. But after consulting with Redd and even having their [Accountant] Elin pitch in, about the cost of maintenance specifically–she decided in the end that that was mid-game stuff, for when they had things built to protect already.

They would just have to deal with living a life on the line for a while, and work hard to set up secure perimeters by more mundane means, and perhaps post a couple of look-outs or patrols whenever there was trouble brewing.

What they needed most, what they sorely lacked, and which was most imperative to correct first, was gaining a steady income. Short-term, yet sustainable profits.

Until that was secured they would all too often find themselves sidelined when opportunity came knocking.

Tonight was another beginning.