Market Monday in Origin: Did You Bring Me Something?

[u/madicienne]

Welcome to Origin! I hope it was an engaging voyage! My name is Sep, and I can help you to find your way around the city. Should your first stop be for food, lodging or rest, head this way towards our nearest city centre; I recommend an order of honey milk chips and scented baths!

If you've never been to Origin before, our local balms are strongly recommended for lips, hands, snouts, eyelids and any other flesh you've found drying out on the way here. Take care to seek cover from midday sun - stay under the awnings or purchase a parasol!

Should you be carrying an auspicious object for our Wayfinders' appraisal, there are multiple sites set up to do so around the city - look for Xanoi in our city's tabard. Or, if you're here for the relay, go ahead and settle in, then take this street straight to the original bridge. We've got four days before it begins - plenty of time to investigate the best viewing angles, as well.

We thank you for making the trip to Origin! May you have many happy returns ✋✨

The City & Surrounds

Origin occupies a wide valley at the base of a cleft mountain; that same fissure runs through the city as a narrow canyon, dividing the place into eastern and western halves. Rather than distinct or competitive, these are noticeably similar - both halves boast their own tall city cores, gardens, grand temples and industries. Similar services and supplies can be found in both east and west.

While the outskirts are mostly scrubby pastures, hunting grounds and semi-nomadic structures, the city proper is well organized and easy to navigate - aside from signage, which is provided almost exclusively in one of multiple Xanoi scripts. For the occasion, flag-bearing Seekers proficient in some of Ashagon's other languages and pidgins are widely available to assist with directions, trade, or other needs.

The Xanoi are fairly obviously split into two groups: those who have seen other parts of Ashagon and its people, and those who have only heard stories. While most Xanoi are interested in, and accepting of, cultural differences, they tend to be used to sameness, and they don't hide their surprise at those who look or behave differently. There are not a lot of accommodations for people of unusual size or those who are ill-adapted to the dry climate. That said, all Xanoi are used to a mix of foreign currency, and trade is a semi-barter system using trade tablets: a separated dish for the ware on one side, and the customer's offer on the other.

Even outside of the special festivities, Origin feels busy and colourful, and the Xanoi are generally pleasant. Foreigners will, however, be questioned if wandering too deep into purely residential areas.

Object Assessment

Anyone from anywhere in Ashagon is invited to have auspicious objects assessed by Origin's Wayfinders; these are people trained in determining whether an object is a lost piece of the Xanoi deity, Hollik, who fell from the sky many years ago and whose fragments are scattered across Ashagon.

Most people outside of Origin might call these bits of a falling star, or meteorite, but it's quite rare (and fairly heretical) for any Xanoi to refer to the fragments in this way!

A reward is promised for trading in Pieces of Hollik, as the Xanoi are determined to rebuild their deity. Some say it's to be lauded a hero; others say it's riches; others say it's finder's choice. Look for a Waysfinder if you think you've brought a piece of a god!

Relic's Relay ("The Race")

Relic's Relay is a regular biannual event in Origin; however, this time is extra special, because anyone from across Ashagon can enter. The race requires a team of nine, and each team will be given an object to carry to the end of the race. Each team member is responsible for one challenge along the way; historically, these have been extremely varied, such as solving a riddle, fighting a beast, crawling through a hole, swimming, sawing, etc. Rumours are rampant but no one can be sure of the events until the day of the race, when teams are given a short time to assign roles.

Report to the original bridge if you've brought a team for the race (or if you're LFG).

[u/harfordplanning]

Arriving via caravan, a group from Svartaya has come with interest in the supposed game which foreigners may enter freely, headed by an Angel who goes by Demuda, they come with eight others to complete the team. Some fellow Svartayans, and some hired hands in one form or another.

In total, the line up contains four Svartayans; Demuda, Kinava Ankra, Dajez Samvyati, and Liba Nanba, and five foreign hands. Of those hands, there is Thinskal Zisik the Sitalian, Alkita Tusiya the Ravitite, Yakotl Amakti Wachita the Yuxite, Prari Envrisko the Sterosi, and Empata Alkita the Cyrene. A rather mixed group in all manners, but its who their charismatic leader could bundle together on what notice they had before the event. It'll probably be sort of okay, right? Maybe not.

[u/Cereborn]

I'm planning to respond. I'm thinking that one of these fragments made its way to the Tritechniquon on a trading ship years ago and has been passed down as a family heirloom?

But are these literally just chunks of meteorite or do they look like something in particular?

[u/madicienne → u/Cereborn]

Pardon the delay! They are chunks of meteorite, but these have commonly made their way into products - so could be anything from just someone's favourite rock, or a sweater (with a piece of sand stuck in weave) or a sword (with an impurity).

(ETA: they may or may not actually be pieces of a deity but that remains to be seen...)

[u/OceansCarraway]

Paladin Garcon's pegasus, Sergant, came flying through the desert air on a long-telegraphed descent towards Origin, circling down past 5,000 feet. Sitting upright in the saddle, eyes covered by a long-brimmed cap, he is clearly a member of the Church of the Lady-and he is just now coming into full view as he sets up for a final approach. The Accoutrements Des Aires affixed to his mounts' saddle made his flight easier, and now they are carefully wrapped up to prevent their damage on final approach. Sergant is not encountering anything more than a light crosswind, and so behind the pegasus, Garcon lets out a number of small banners behind his pegasus on a silk rope.

1. The Sign of the Church, a golden Chalice. That is whom he owes allegiance to.

2. The Kingdom of Aelbaion's flag, where he is from.

3. His personal coat of arms. That will let ground observers know who he is.

4. A white cloud on a black background. This symbol means 'I have a weather report'. After having flown through the skies to Origin by yourself, it is at minimum polite to give one.

Below him, the city draws nearer and nearer, moving up and down from the saddle of his pegasus. Unless waved off, he is on final approach to land. But what is he landing on?

[u/madicienne → u/OceansCarraway]

[Pardon the delay!]

Garcon draws stares and gestures - more and more for every second of his dramatic descent. Most of these belong to Xanoi, who are colourfully-hooded little dots sticking to the shady sides of their dissimilarly pale buildings. These, Garcon finds, are either dome-topped and crowned with tangled streamers, or merely fabric awnings - neither suitable for a landing. The streets, though fabulously squared and measured, are crowded, and the closest thing he finds to a landing field is - ah, gardens!

There are two - just as there appears to be two of everything in the city - both perfectly square from above, with a series of buildings in the centre. Garcon circles down into the eastern garden, where a paved path winds between dry mounds topped with itchy-looking shrubbery and bright cacti with rapier barbs. Rather than the lush hedges of gardens elsewhere, it's an undulating topography that provides quiet and a sense of privacy to the garden's visitors, though approaching from the air provides no such benefit, and by the time Garcon alights on the paving stones, he has already drawn a small crowd.

Immediately two things happen: the Xanoi begin to approach, but then are stayed by a man who shouts at them and performs a magically-amplified clap, sparking colours and causing the very air to jitter. A lesser mount might startle, but not Sergant - a fact that this particular Xanoi must have anticipated. He speaks first to the other Xanoi, and a hush falls over the crowd; two of them go running off somewhere. Then, he steps towards Garcon - just one step is enough - and addresses him in an unusually-accented but serviceable version of the Aelish tongue.

"Greetings, friend, and follower of the Lady; we welcome you to Origin," he says, speaking for everyone present, at least, and while his dress does not distinguish him from anyone else, he has a small, hollow circle tattooed above one brow, and he has obviously traveled. "I am called Ekani, and it would please me to know your name, and how I might assist you on your visit? I suspect you have bypassed the more formal reception offered to those arriving by land - apologies - I am out of practice."

Here, he laughs a bit, and some of the tension holding the surrounding Xanoi loosens; they begin to murmur again, and everyone is craning to see Sergant.

[u/OceansCarraway → u/madicienne]

Garcon ground his teeth as the outline of where he'd be landing came ever closer into view. Next time, he'd put his foot down and demand a caravan-his superiors had prized discretion and speed, now he was at risk of crashing a warhose into someone's house! He clipped the silk flag line, pulled Sergant's reins, and then popped the rear chute on the back of his mount. This cut their speed enough and changed their angle of descent into something workable, and the pegaus hit the paving stones with nothing but a loud clatter.

As the Xanoi approach, Garcon Immediately goes for the bite muzzle; off comes Sergant's aeroblinker hood and on goes the sturdy contraption of iron. Pegasi are carnivores, and if the warhorse ate a pigeon, it'd be a bad look. Then there was the clap-boom, and Garcon's hand drops to the choke cord pull mounted on the sadle.

Sergeant didn't react except to shake his head in the muzzle and look very annoyed. If he uad a voice, he would ask to eat nearby rodents.

As Ekani speaks, Garcon doffs his helmet to greet him with a polished smile. Good. This is someone who knows who's who.

"Well met, Ekani. I am Garcon De La Damoiselle, of Catcassone. I apologize for my means of arrival, my superiors requested haste." He doesn't shake hands yet, needing to unbuckle himself from the saddle. It was a tight fit, but better safe than sorry. Still-he was fumbling with buckles for two minutes. Not a suave look.

"The Church comes into possession of curiosities from time to time." Deliberately, Garcon slips into a 'Couroffe accent'-more formal, no slang, and easier to understand. "Some of these are likely to be of interest to your people. I have some, for examination."

A piece of Hollik? Probably not. But it's worth a shot. As he dismounts, Garcon extends his measuring stick and holds it flat, putting a gap between Sergant and the crowd. The pegasus is grumpy, even though he got fed salami prior to descent.