Auction House

“Osric!”

Catalina slams open the front door, rushing inside toward the stairs.

“A thicketbear was spotted in the village! Are you okay, dear?”

She barges into Osric’s bedroom to find him not there. She frantically searches the room, checking under the bed, under the desk, knocking over a bookshelf to look behind it.

Randolf more calmly enters the bedroom, noticing the note resting on Osric’s bed.

“Dear, there’s a note on his bed. Did you read it?” Randolf asks.

Catalina’s rampage stops, her heavy breathing fills the room. She turns to face Randolf, as he starts to read the letter.

“Dear mother and father, I have gone to the Trading Providence of Aurelith to procure a certain necessity that, as the Grand Sage, I need. The trip should take two days at most. Please don’t worry, mother, I will be back as soon as I can.”

“Aurelith? Why would he go to such a lawless place like that?” Catalina runs down the stairs in a panic.

“Where are you going?” Randolf follows her.

“I am going to Aurelith to get my baby!”

Randolf catches up to her, stopping her by the shoulder. "I’m sure he's getting some sort of tool for his magic research. He's the new Grand Sage, not an ordinary kid. He’ll be fine."

“That's fine, you can stay here, I’ll go by myself.” Catalina storms out the front door.

Randolf sighs. “Fine, I’m coming.”

***

I wonder if they read the letter by now. I was too embarrassed to say I was going to buy a cat girl slave, but, they’ll get the gist of it. I made sure to say I would only be gone for a few days — hopefully Catalina doesn’t freak out. Osric thinks to himself in the back of the horse-drawn wagon, gazing at the grassy field passing him by.

“So, how much longer until we get there?” Osric looks over at the merchant manning the reins.

“Shouldn’t be too long now.”

“Do you trade in Aurelith often?” Osric scoots closer to the merchant, sliding across the soft pelts he sits on.

“Yes! Aurelith is like a treasury for Sagia merchants. Anything I’m not allowed to sell there flies out of my wagon in Aurelith.”

“I read that the trading bans in Sagia are really strict,” Osric continues the conversation.

“Many people travel to Aurelith to shop, we really do miss out on a lot in Sagia.”

“By the way, what am I sitting on?” Osric looks down at the comfortable stack of furs he’s resting on.

“Oh, those are beastkin pelts,” The merchant nonchalantly replies.

“What?” Osric stands up and backs away from the pile of furs.

“Like... like the beast people?” Osric looks at the pelts with discontent.

“You’d be surprised. Some like them better than animal pelts, they’re more resilient and said to be warmer too!”

“Yeah — I didn’t want to know.” Osric shuts him down.

The two then ride along in uncomfortable silence.

>>>

“Well, kid, we’re here. This is Silverquay, the mecca of Aurelith.” The merchant points at the lively city they approach.

“Thanks for the ride,” Osric says, stepping out of the wagon.

The merchant nods.

Before they part ways at the edge of the city, Osric flicks the merchant a gold coin from his pouch. The merchant tips his feathered hat to Osric before setting off.

Osric embarks down one of the main red brick roads, absorbing the city. My goodness. If I thought Angus’ town was impressive, this place blows it out of the water — literally, because it's on the coast... Osric cracks a smile at his own joke as he takes in the surrounding buildings.

Vibrantly dyed stone plaster buildings line the way. Unlike the dull grays and whites he’d been familiar with, these tall, flat-roofed buildings are painted in vibrant reds, oranges, tans, and yellows. Merchant stalls cram the edges of the road. The stalls, their frames painted similar colors to the buildings, house merchandise much more intriguing to Osric than what he saw in Lumora. A table on his left presents a plethora of magic staffs, while on his right — a booth with various smoked meats. He almost stops as the smell of delicious pastries wafts past his nose.

There is so much here that I want to buy... No. Don’t get distracted. Buy what you came here for. According to that merchant, there should be a slave auction house up ahead. He clenches his fist, steeling his resolve, and moves on.

The sidewalk opens up to a plaza. A beautiful white stone fountain is surrounded by a circular red-brick roundabout. The plaza is full of people. Stands line the edge of the circle, while street performers are stationed near the fountain. Someone juggling swords in front of Osric receives a round of applause from a small crowd.

Scanning the plaza, Osric’s eyes stop at a red building shorter than those around it. The front displays an extravagant wooden sign. The sign reads “Munster’s auction house”. This must be it. That merchant told me there’s supposed to be a big auction there today, lucky me — it's allegedly starting an hour before sundown.

Osric glances over at the large sundial near the fountain while walking toward the building. He sees that the shadow is about to touch the third and final marking before the sundown symbol. Good thing they use the same system as in Sagia. I’ll just make it.

Entering the auction house, Osric notes the rows of red upholstered seats, the domed ceiling and the wooden stage in the back... Did I just walk into an auction house or a theater?

The seats are mostly empty and the stage barren — no... did I get the time wrong? Is this not the right place? Osric checks the venue, worried, looking for signs of activity.

He spots a group of two sitting in a middle row. He decides to ask them some questions.

“Rumor has it that Munster’s haul is pretty pathetic this time.”

“I see most of the usual clients didn’t show.”

The two well-dressed men talk amongst themselves as Osric approaches.

“I hear he has a rare commodity this time, a young half-beastkin,” a very round man in a blue wool overcoat excitedly proclaims.

“I remember you telling me about those last time, you said they were quite exquisite,” the skinnier man sitting next to him says.

“Yes, yes, they are downright delectable. They look human yet have winsome animal ears and tails.”

This is what I’ve been looking for! Excitement bubbled in Osric as he edged in behind them, listening in on the conversation.

“The best part is, they can’t get pregnant,” the round man exclaims.

Osric’s face floods with disgust. He backs away.

“Oh, you don’t say,” the skinnier man remarks.

Osric slowly backs away from the two, then walks down the aisle toward the back of the building. The look of disgust is still stuck on his face. He tries to repress the vile scenes that statement made him imagine. Osric picks the corner-most chair, and slumps into it.

While struggling with the images in his mind, Osric notices a man walking onto the stage. He lights two lanterns on either side, the platform now flickers with ambient light. The man wears a deep-maroon vest overtop of a pristine, ruffled white undershirt. His silver-gray hair, tied into a braid, and his navy-blue pants sway as he makes his way to the podium. He looks out at the rather measly audience and clears his throat.

“I see we have a rather small gathering today — no matter. For those who showed, I have some high quality products.”

Osric sits up in his chair as another equivalently well-dressed man, with brown hair, leads a beastkin man onto the stage, pulling on the chains around his hands to speed him up. The beastkin man, with only a tattered tunic to cover his white fur, is bound in a metal collar like Osric has seen plenty of times before. The beastkin is rabbit-like, something Osric has yet to see. Long rabbit ears stand straight up on the top of his head, and a button nose sits in the middle of his face.

“Now then, let’s begin my — Munster’s famed slave auction!” the man at the podium declares.

“My first product is a male rabbit beastkin in great health,” the man calling himself Munster gestures to what Osric assumes is his handler, holding the chains.

The handler then spreads open the beastkin’s mouth, showcasing his white teeth. He then grabs the rabbit man’s ears to display the pink front and fluffy white backs.

“The bidding starts at ten gold coins, any takers?” Munster asks.

Osric’s attention is drawn to the middle row; the round man raises his hand.

“Eleven gold coins,” a new voice rings out.

Osric stands on his seat to see a lone man in the first row standing, his hand raised.

Munster’s eyes twinkled. “Two gold coins, thank you, anyone else care to raise the stakes?”

“I’ll do twelve,” the skinnier man seated next to the round man shouts out.

“Fifteen!” the round man interjects.

“Anyone doing more than fifteen... No? Sold to Mister Broadhold!” Munster slams a gavel onto his wooden podium.

>>>

Several other wolf- and cat-like beastkin are brought out for auction in much the same way. Most of the slaves go to the Broadhold fellow after long bidding wars. Osric, now completely disinterested, picks at his fingers as the auction goes on. Dang, no cat girls, huh? he thinks, peeling skin off his thumb.

“This is my final slave of the auction,” Munster announces.

Osric’s attention is caught again as the handler, struggling to carry a large cage, plops it down next to the podium.

A human-looking girl sits slumped over in the cage. Her pale skin looks sickly, almost gray. The pointed wolf-like ears on the top of her head droop as if too heavy to lift. A bleak look in her dark eyes as she blankly stares at the bars. Her long, tangled dark-gray hair sprawls on the floor. A dark-gray, bushy, matted tail sticks out her backside. She has only a burlap rag to cover herself, the cloth not even long enough to reach her thighs.

Munster points at the cage. “A rather rare specimen to end off the night, a half-beastkin wolf girl, only seven.”