The brimstone horde marches the obsidian road toward the Cauldron. You own nothing —
every tower is bought under the hammer.
Between waves the catalog opens: rivals bid like maniacs on
glittering lots that hide cursed junk.
The true prizes — the Fireball Basilisk, the Pyre Mortar —
sit quiet, ignored, unproven. Cold-bid them while the mob
chases the decoy and burns your competition’s gold.
Prices ride demand: hot lots climb every auction. Win a lot,
drag it onto the field, then upgrade it with kill-bounty coin.