As Damon left the auction house, two women walked over and asked the clerk curiously. "What happened, Hila? Why are you so nervous?"
The clerk, Hila, looked up, visibly pale beneath the magical glow of the auction hall's interface panels. His usually smooth, merchant-trained smile was nowhere to be found. He glanced toward the retreating figure of Damon and then back at the two women, both dressed in fine robes, marked with the emblem of the auction house.
"That guy who just left," he whispered, leaning forward, "he put up a legendary grade treasure chest for auction."
"What?" The two women gasped in unison. "What? Are you serious? That guy? Impossible. He looks like a beggar. How could someone like that come across a legendary treasure chest? Don't be stupid."
Hila swallowed hard, his fingers still trembling as they hovered over the glowing console. "Fine. Whatever. I don't have time to talk to you both now. You can see for yourself when the auction is set up."
