The tavern door opens on the same stale draft the hall remembered, and the Auctioneer steps in with the Clerk at his shoulder. In the shadowed booth, Jax watches the tremor in the Auctioneer’s gavel hand, the same tight rhythm that once made the ward-light shudder at the ruin.
The Auctioneer freezes mid-swing as if an unseen thumb presses down on his wrist. His fingers jerk, release, then jerk again, locked in a pulse that matches the old suppression trick exactly.
The Clerk
He was burned out there. The collector is gone, and the bag with him.
The Auctioneer
Dead. Incinerated. That is what we tell the town.
The words land, and the room seems to tighten around them. Static prickles over mugs and woodgrain, not loud, just heavy, like the air is holding its breath.
The Auctioneer
Let the trail go cold. If they think the man and his coin are ash, they stop looking.
The Clerk
Good. Let the dead stay dead.
Jax sees it clear at last, the twitch is not grief or nerves. It is suppression, the auctioneer is fighting the same kind of magic that had choked the bag in the ruin, and losing.
✓ Quest Accepted
Force the Auctioneer’s facade to break
“*I offered the auctioneer and the clerk 900 million each to keep my story true so people leave me alone and plus they will bring me boots everyday from the auction men's at French for boots and knight boots too*”
SUCCESS (Great Persuasion, rolled -2)
Jax lets the offer sit in the lamplight, huge and quiet. The Auctioneer’s grip slips off the gavel, and the Clerk stops pretending not to listen.
Jax
They understand the number.
The Auctioneer
Nine hundred million. Each? You buy silence like a crown, then.
The Clerk
And boots too, from the men who bring them in. French pairs, knight pairs, anything old enough to matter.
The Auctioneer laughs once, raw and broken, then folds forward over the booth rail. The polished hall-man is gone from his face; what remains is a furious, frightened thing staring at Jax like he is a grave that walked back in.
The Auctioneer
Fine. Dead in the town record, dead in every mouth that fears me. I will feed your legend boots, and I will choke anyone who says otherwise.
The Clerk
I will keep the tale clean. And I will watch for pairs worth bringing you.
Jax slides the first purse across the table. Coins whisper against wood, and the Clerk flinches at the weight of the promise. The cost is plain in the room, now, because the silence is bought so loudly it can be counted.
Quest Complete
Force the Auctioneer’s facade to break