Vorston
Active member
The podium within the market square was a host to a frohoggin draped in loud shimmering reds, arms waving to flash the silver inside of the robes to attract attentions. Bulbous eyes looked askew, mouth wide as he made his decree to gathered, carnival barker to the auction he did direct. A croak, loud as any gong to mark a beginning, then that bowl of a mouth did begin it's marketing. A loose formation of interested and the curious, the passer by and the on looker were audience to the auction, small stage of wood adopted for the goods on offering.
“Come rally around to the first round of sales today, these items you'd be mad to keep at bay! From my gavel I shall decree on your enthusiastic bids, rise those hands high and often, it's all for a good cause!”
A runefolk and gnome did wheel a shrouded object to the stage that were between their heights in tallness. Wrapped in canvas with twining strings, a sodden grin slobbering from behind the wrapping. Stagehands to the goods that was in supply, the frohoggin doing his best to encourage demand.
Some distance away, a gathering of enrobed wizards of wilding colours all supping from flasks of silver did talk amongst themselves. One in tears in garish yellow, consoled by others, hushed consolations speaking of, “It's for the best,” and, “You'll do better next time, I know how you feel.” A gnome did stand at center, long white beard who did herd and guard these wizards from themselves, offering, “There, there, remember what we talked about, it's alright,” and more consoling words and consoling replenishment of herbal tea within their flasks.
The auctioneer did make much in his gestures and flapping cloth, allowing the mystery grow before his declaration.
“These discounted prototypes, defective to the zeniths of expectation of their makers but suitable for needful takers, lighten the load with these amazing deals! What was made by weave and imagination, slightly errant to their engineering, but for you, they'll serve you princely and endearing! Here, our next item, a Mimic that secures your wares and keeps you company, without fear of harm, without fear of biting! Come gather 'round, hurry, hurry!”
The gnomish fellow did take bundle of canvas within his hand, and with help of a fistful of the canvas from the runefolk, did unveil in much slow dragging. A mouth revealed, all gums and wide tongue that put the frohoggin's own to shame. Eyes that rolled this way and that, blinking uneven, as it did smack it's purple lips.
It gave an amused hum and began to speak, loud and stupid. Eyes rolling towards the open sky.
“Strange dungeon, no ceiling!”
Eyes rolling from sunlight to audience. Not a single tooth in that mouth that bumbled out the next demand.
“Gems, feed them!”
The frohoggen drew up sleeves, waving padded fingers in amazement, a slight tremor of nervousness in his chuckle but not his rhythm and cadence.
“Bon mot as you seal your treasures! A feature not a failure, safe around children for it has but gums, it's wit is the only thing that bites! Come come, I must have takers! All bidding does fund the mending of the minds of wizards deranged and estranged, these items so given freely by those who wish to make amends! Friends to the soothers of the mind, and bargains so rare to find, let our charity auction begin!”
The takers seemed more confused than enthralled. But one hand did rise immediate, immensely long sleeve of yellow robes that held a flask that did slosh about with lavenders and rosemary infusion.
“Three hund-”
The hand was dragged back down by the gnome by virtue of the length of the wizard's sleeves that did brush Vorston's bald head, even at the height that it did wave a bid. A rush of other wizard's comment and much confusion, Vorston's quiet words that reminded the one in yellow of his agreements, some sternness required to prevent outright bedlam. One could be understanding, but the cause needed funding. And these folks so recently embroiled with derangement needed to learn how to let go, Vorston knew as all too true.
“Besides,” Vorston said, as if playfully reminding a drunken friend of the facts in light humour, “Check your purse, it's empty from repaying your debts to the candlemakers if you remember.”
This seemed to dampen his spirits, his arm no longer fighting to make a bid, and longful for coin to reclaim their creature that was on stage, looked on glumly.
A croak, a quick creep of a smile from the auctioneer, and then bids were made, as some deduced some value in a mimic that could not bite but was a pit for things. Two groups of parties were now bidding quick, their minds both secured on the same conclusion. Two well dressed parties clad in ill gotten gains, besparkled in jewels and gaudy things from criminal enterprise winnings. Both wishing to have a safe box that didn't bite, one side for their card games, the other for their items to fence. Their hands glittering, their clothes heavy with all manner of things concealed and smuggled.
The mimic, seeing hands rising up, sparkling with rubies, did break from what moorings it had. The gnome shocked and too slow in hurrying to prevent the chest from breaking out, the runefolk shrugging his beard with his mouth at the sight.
To the yellow robed one, it was a clear sign that the gumming chest forgave him as it bounded into the crowd, eyes fixed now upon the teasing sign of what it craved, a shriek of, “I knew you'd forgive me!”, lost in the sound of shock of others. And the booming childish demand of the lock box as it shuddered away and out.
“Gems!”
The lock box of wood and ill woven magic did pounce from push from hands everyone was ignorant of it having. The arms a sickly green, jutting from slats of blackened wood, wide fingered and used for ungainly dragging and leaping. Launching from the stage down to the gathered people that parted, a loud crash of wood against the cobbles, the demand for gems growing as it found itself lumbering towards the criminal enterprises, their bejeweled hands going to daggers.
“Oh dear, should have checked for that,” Vorston did say as he soothed himself with a quick stroke of the beard, a concerned frown upon his face as the situation developed. The other wizards in his care did slurp and cackle, nudge elbows and enjoyed where this was going, as those that had bid were being boundered towards by idiot box, a frohoggin gavel banging for order now instead of bids.
“Come rally around to the first round of sales today, these items you'd be mad to keep at bay! From my gavel I shall decree on your enthusiastic bids, rise those hands high and often, it's all for a good cause!”
A runefolk and gnome did wheel a shrouded object to the stage that were between their heights in tallness. Wrapped in canvas with twining strings, a sodden grin slobbering from behind the wrapping. Stagehands to the goods that was in supply, the frohoggin doing his best to encourage demand.
Some distance away, a gathering of enrobed wizards of wilding colours all supping from flasks of silver did talk amongst themselves. One in tears in garish yellow, consoled by others, hushed consolations speaking of, “It's for the best,” and, “You'll do better next time, I know how you feel.” A gnome did stand at center, long white beard who did herd and guard these wizards from themselves, offering, “There, there, remember what we talked about, it's alright,” and more consoling words and consoling replenishment of herbal tea within their flasks.
The auctioneer did make much in his gestures and flapping cloth, allowing the mystery grow before his declaration.
“These discounted prototypes, defective to the zeniths of expectation of their makers but suitable for needful takers, lighten the load with these amazing deals! What was made by weave and imagination, slightly errant to their engineering, but for you, they'll serve you princely and endearing! Here, our next item, a Mimic that secures your wares and keeps you company, without fear of harm, without fear of biting! Come gather 'round, hurry, hurry!”
The gnomish fellow did take bundle of canvas within his hand, and with help of a fistful of the canvas from the runefolk, did unveil in much slow dragging. A mouth revealed, all gums and wide tongue that put the frohoggin's own to shame. Eyes that rolled this way and that, blinking uneven, as it did smack it's purple lips.
It gave an amused hum and began to speak, loud and stupid. Eyes rolling towards the open sky.
“Strange dungeon, no ceiling!”
Eyes rolling from sunlight to audience. Not a single tooth in that mouth that bumbled out the next demand.
“Gems, feed them!”
The frohoggen drew up sleeves, waving padded fingers in amazement, a slight tremor of nervousness in his chuckle but not his rhythm and cadence.
“Bon mot as you seal your treasures! A feature not a failure, safe around children for it has but gums, it's wit is the only thing that bites! Come come, I must have takers! All bidding does fund the mending of the minds of wizards deranged and estranged, these items so given freely by those who wish to make amends! Friends to the soothers of the mind, and bargains so rare to find, let our charity auction begin!”
The takers seemed more confused than enthralled. But one hand did rise immediate, immensely long sleeve of yellow robes that held a flask that did slosh about with lavenders and rosemary infusion.
“Three hund-”
The hand was dragged back down by the gnome by virtue of the length of the wizard's sleeves that did brush Vorston's bald head, even at the height that it did wave a bid. A rush of other wizard's comment and much confusion, Vorston's quiet words that reminded the one in yellow of his agreements, some sternness required to prevent outright bedlam. One could be understanding, but the cause needed funding. And these folks so recently embroiled with derangement needed to learn how to let go, Vorston knew as all too true.
“Besides,” Vorston said, as if playfully reminding a drunken friend of the facts in light humour, “Check your purse, it's empty from repaying your debts to the candlemakers if you remember.”
This seemed to dampen his spirits, his arm no longer fighting to make a bid, and longful for coin to reclaim their creature that was on stage, looked on glumly.
A croak, a quick creep of a smile from the auctioneer, and then bids were made, as some deduced some value in a mimic that could not bite but was a pit for things. Two groups of parties were now bidding quick, their minds both secured on the same conclusion. Two well dressed parties clad in ill gotten gains, besparkled in jewels and gaudy things from criminal enterprise winnings. Both wishing to have a safe box that didn't bite, one side for their card games, the other for their items to fence. Their hands glittering, their clothes heavy with all manner of things concealed and smuggled.
The mimic, seeing hands rising up, sparkling with rubies, did break from what moorings it had. The gnome shocked and too slow in hurrying to prevent the chest from breaking out, the runefolk shrugging his beard with his mouth at the sight.
To the yellow robed one, it was a clear sign that the gumming chest forgave him as it bounded into the crowd, eyes fixed now upon the teasing sign of what it craved, a shriek of, “I knew you'd forgive me!”, lost in the sound of shock of others. And the booming childish demand of the lock box as it shuddered away and out.
“Gems!”
The lock box of wood and ill woven magic did pounce from push from hands everyone was ignorant of it having. The arms a sickly green, jutting from slats of blackened wood, wide fingered and used for ungainly dragging and leaping. Launching from the stage down to the gathered people that parted, a loud crash of wood against the cobbles, the demand for gems growing as it found itself lumbering towards the criminal enterprises, their bejeweled hands going to daggers.
“Oh dear, should have checked for that,” Vorston did say as he soothed himself with a quick stroke of the beard, a concerned frown upon his face as the situation developed. The other wizards in his care did slurp and cackle, nudge elbows and enjoyed where this was going, as those that had bid were being boundered towards by idiot box, a frohoggin gavel banging for order now instead of bids.
