Mysterious Wreckage
Prompt 2
Prompt 2
Solo or RP Format
Counts as 5 RP growth Points
Solo word minimum is 750, RP post minimum is 7
Rumors are spreading of a traveler who has entered the area. Apparently, this traveler has a strange item they claim comes from a different time. It's hard to believe what people are saying, and the only way to really know what is going on is if you see it with your own eyes. So, you make it a point to travel to where the traveler was last sighted, and as you approach you notice a crowd. The traveler is holding up an object, high above their head, and shouting across the crowd. Some approach to get a closer look, some appear fearful, but everyone can agree...this is something no one has ever seen before.
What exactly is the traveler showing off? Roll 1d6 to determine what strange item has been found using the guide below:
Rolled 1-2
The traveler pulls out a strange piece of metal, warped a bit on the edges and covered with an unknown language. It looked similar to what you've read, and you think you can make out words, but overall it doesn't make much sense.
Rolled 3-4
The traveler pulls out a strange piece of metal, wound around and almost bouncy in nature. It seems a bit sharp on the edges, but in general it looks like it could possibly be some sort of jewelry piece, if it was smaller.
Rolled 5-6
The traveler pulls two strange pieces of metal, which don't seem to go together outside of their color. One is covered in a language that sort of looks familiar, but isn't fully legible. The other is a winding spiral, which is too big to wrap comfortably around a wrist.
He had found that of all the larger settlements, Ilidan was his favourite to visit for trade.
For starters, it wasn’t even all that large, not when you had been to Jodove and Pajore -- but it was considerably bigger than most of the scattered villages and hamlets carved out of the jungle, with a proper marketplace and local industries. But it was also a place where the goods he arrived with were well-valued, and his work respected. Here was where most of Yaeli textiles were made, and there was always need for the materials needed to make dye for the cloth. The usual olives and browns were easy to come by, but anything brighter or more exotic required the ability to venture deep into the forest, and search out rare, hard-to-find plants.
Having no particular expertise in textiles, it had taken Matchitemin a while to clue on to these desired materials. First, he had come here to trade his usual inventory; plants and extracts made for healing, cleansing, and being burned in special ceremonies. But after exploring the Ilidan markets, he came to notice the stalls frequented by the dye-makers. Their fingers were always tinged green, and they paid well for even the smallest bundles of herbs.
He studied the necessary specimens, and soon became a bit of an expert in seeking them out. He chose to specialize in the rarest ones, the kind that only grew wild in the shadows of the deep jungle. Finding these was a challenge for most, but mere convenience for him.
This was where he chose to spend most of his time, anyway.
However, upon his arrival in Ilidan, he noticed a bit of a fray in one of the main thoroughfares. Townspeople were gathered around a young woman who stood on the stairs of a temple. This in itself was not particularly unusual (people gathered at temples all the time, and often to hear from a priest or a priestess), but… well, even Matchitemin could tell that this young woman was not a priestess. She wasn’t even Yaeli! She had pale peach-coloured skin and short hair the colour of sand. A mainlander, then. He didn’t know where she had come from, but she certainly didn’t look much like Caym, so she wasn’t from Oba. There were other places he knew the names of now -- Tale, Jauhar, Sauti, Zena… but he didn’t know what the people who lived there looked like.
The light-skinned woman, in any case, was holding out two object to the crowd. She was not speaking very loudly, but she sounded passionate and insistent.
“Look at these!” She beseeched her audience, stepping down a step to stretch out the objects towards those closest to her. “Have you ever seen anything like these? I’ve talked to many smiths -- none of them know of a metal like this. Look how this one shines! And see how this one stretches! Don’t be mistaken, these are not of our time?”
A brave Yaeli girl finally spoke up -- until now, no one had dared address the mainlander.
“Then who made it?”
The stranger then began to explain that the artifacts were made far back in the past, in a time before all the people of Tendaji. The crowd glanced at each other uncertainly, clearly not convinced. They had, after all, little cause to believe a stranger.
But Matchitemin? Well, this all sounded fairly reasonable to him. Surely the world was old, and there was plenty of time back in the past when mysterious and forgotten things would have happened. He had explored the deep caves in the jingle -- down there he’d seen all manner of bones, some of which seemed not to match any living Yaeli creature. The thought didn’t bother him, and he found it a bit odd that the others found it so unlikely. Did they really think the world had been created yesterday, with all the races and nations of Tendaji already in place?
The truth seemed so obvious to him that he wasn’t even particularly interested in hearing the rest of the stranger’s spiel. It seemed like she’d be stuck up there on the stairs trying to convince folks for a while… unless she got chased off by the temple attendants before she gave up. He really didn’t care to stick around for that -- him and priests didn’t get on all that well -- so he turned away and headed for the market. He had more important matters to attend to than all this stuff about past eras and forgotten histories. He had goods to trade, and supplies to collect.
word count = 767
For starters, it wasn’t even all that large, not when you had been to Jodove and Pajore -- but it was considerably bigger than most of the scattered villages and hamlets carved out of the jungle, with a proper marketplace and local industries. But it was also a place where the goods he arrived with were well-valued, and his work respected. Here was where most of Yaeli textiles were made, and there was always need for the materials needed to make dye for the cloth. The usual olives and browns were easy to come by, but anything brighter or more exotic required the ability to venture deep into the forest, and search out rare, hard-to-find plants.
Having no particular expertise in textiles, it had taken Matchitemin a while to clue on to these desired materials. First, he had come here to trade his usual inventory; plants and extracts made for healing, cleansing, and being burned in special ceremonies. But after exploring the Ilidan markets, he came to notice the stalls frequented by the dye-makers. Their fingers were always tinged green, and they paid well for even the smallest bundles of herbs.
He studied the necessary specimens, and soon became a bit of an expert in seeking them out. He chose to specialize in the rarest ones, the kind that only grew wild in the shadows of the deep jungle. Finding these was a challenge for most, but mere convenience for him.
This was where he chose to spend most of his time, anyway.
However, upon his arrival in Ilidan, he noticed a bit of a fray in one of the main thoroughfares. Townspeople were gathered around a young woman who stood on the stairs of a temple. This in itself was not particularly unusual (people gathered at temples all the time, and often to hear from a priest or a priestess), but… well, even Matchitemin could tell that this young woman was not a priestess. She wasn’t even Yaeli! She had pale peach-coloured skin and short hair the colour of sand. A mainlander, then. He didn’t know where she had come from, but she certainly didn’t look much like Caym, so she wasn’t from Oba. There were other places he knew the names of now -- Tale, Jauhar, Sauti, Zena… but he didn’t know what the people who lived there looked like.
The light-skinned woman, in any case, was holding out two object to the crowd. She was not speaking very loudly, but she sounded passionate and insistent.
“Look at these!” She beseeched her audience, stepping down a step to stretch out the objects towards those closest to her. “Have you ever seen anything like these? I’ve talked to many smiths -- none of them know of a metal like this. Look how this one shines! And see how this one stretches! Don’t be mistaken, these are not of our time?”
A brave Yaeli girl finally spoke up -- until now, no one had dared address the mainlander.
“Then who made it?”
The stranger then began to explain that the artifacts were made far back in the past, in a time before all the people of Tendaji. The crowd glanced at each other uncertainly, clearly not convinced. They had, after all, little cause to believe a stranger.
But Matchitemin? Well, this all sounded fairly reasonable to him. Surely the world was old, and there was plenty of time back in the past when mysterious and forgotten things would have happened. He had explored the deep caves in the jingle -- down there he’d seen all manner of bones, some of which seemed not to match any living Yaeli creature. The thought didn’t bother him, and he found it a bit odd that the others found it so unlikely. Did they really think the world had been created yesterday, with all the races and nations of Tendaji already in place?
The truth seemed so obvious to him that he wasn’t even particularly interested in hearing the rest of the stranger’s spiel. It seemed like she’d be stuck up there on the stairs trying to convince folks for a while… unless she got chased off by the temple attendants before she gave up. He really didn’t care to stick around for that -- him and priests didn’t get on all that well -- so he turned away and headed for the market. He had more important matters to attend to than all this stuff about past eras and forgotten histories. He had goods to trade, and supplies to collect.
word count = 767
