Rhone shifted on his feet as the bidding began. He'd done this several times; it was nothing new to have a price put on his life. Sometimes that price was depressingly low. When Rhone was young, he was lucky to sell for 10 pieces, and once he had been given away as a mere gift. The bidding began slow and hesitant. He could practically feel the crowd staring at him, judging every inch of him. He could feel eyes wandering over his bruises, wondering what he did to deserve them. 

After a few of the bidders dropped out, two remained. From where he stood, Rhone could see an very short female and a tall aristocrat with his daughter. Neither of the two appeared to be the type to want a dirty field slave. The prices they drove were almost ridiculous. Rhone wondered why they kept going up. It almost gave him a bad feeling in his gut. A mere field slave was worth nowhere near what these two parties were willing to pay, so what did they want him for?

The bidding finally maxed out, with the aristocrat and his daughter winning. Rhone briefly looked up from the ground to give his new owner a curious glance. The auctioneer was beaming with joy at the ridiculous price for which he had been sold as he shook the new master's hand and unchained Rhone to hand him over. The shackles remained around his wrists and ankles, in case he tried to run.