The Golden Terrors of legend was said to be a tireless beast, who could move leagues with each bound, whose beak could crush iron. Sadly, they have not been spotted in generations, although their more common cousins Phorusrhacos are still loyal and powerful partners, imprinted on their rider and raised from hatchling, there is no stronger bond
Phorusrhacos was a real animal that lived in the South American Plans! Roughly twice the size of an ostrich, with a powerful crushing beak and big stompy legs
Recent evedence suggests they may have been Omnivores!
[X]...Astride A Thousand Skies (AKA Astri, Sky-Sky, Idiot)
Kaf saw the raising of a bird as part of the process of becoming a full member of Clan Cohacos, and Annasavai was happy to cooperate, wanting a first hand view of traditional riding bird husbandry techniques.
Now five years old and hand raised, Astride is a deeply loyal, affectionate bird...if not very smart, notable mostly for her impressive endurance and heartiness. Her playful nature gleams through the mischief of her dark eyes, a striking contrast to her blue and white coat.
Adventure 1: Journeywoman, Page 5
The weather the day that Anne leaves Khot-Sen-Lanua is pleasant, if characteristically Lanuan, being some of the city's famed "liquid sunshine". (Weather where a nearly clear sky and warm temperature is still inexplicably accompanied by a light sprinkling of pleasant rain.)
Anne rides over the largest bridge in the City next to her father, having run a gauntlet of goodbyes from the rest of her family in the morning despite her attempts to slip out of the house at first dawn to avoid being delayed in her departure.
(A plan that was frustrated by the simple expedient of there always being at least a handful of people coming and going from the family compound, even after the going away party thrown last night.)
Naturally, everyone wanted to pull her aside to give her a gift, or a last piece of advice, or say a private goodbye. Each well intentioned, but Anne had a very large family. Matriarch Annasavai and her mother had each said a private goodbye, but then more aunts, uncles, and cousins had started popping out of the woodwork and seriously jeopardising her schedule as she kept trying to squeeze in one more goodbye.
Thankfully her father had also been waiting to talk to her and, quickly recognizing her plight, had rushed her out the door using his knowledge of caravan schedules and a half panicked expression to ward off another three dozen goodbyes.
They'd quickly saddled their mounts and begun a circuitous route through the city, slipping down backstreets and bypassing major crossroads and morning canal congestion thanks to Seth's similarly encyclopaedic knowledge of the city's travel arteries.
As the two ride over the great bridge to the mainland, now taking a relaxed pace, her father is once again running over the basics of caravan logistics, having run out of personal topics that were light enough for such a day.
"The thing about caravans," Anne's father begins to relentlessly drill again, for perhaps the dozenth time this season, "is that space is at a premium"
He continues, outlining that every personal item packed means one less trade good that can be taken, thus reducing the caravan's capacity and profitability.
A month ago Anne had acted on that warning and ruthlessly pared down her belongings into what she can carry on Astride A Thousand Skies. She'd cut down to a light change of clothes, to a heavy all-weather cloak gear her grandmother had once worn (still slightly too large across the shoulders), a bow in its case, a cavalry sabre (both also once used by her grandmother), her map, a small collection of cartography and archaeology tools, the book her mother had made for her, and a spare journal her mother had also pushed into her hands last night, and a few other personal items.
Anne then managed to pack most of that into either a set of saddlebags her father had given her for the journey, or into the bag currently slung over her shoulder, her father watching and giving her packing tips that she merely half-resented.
Then Anne spent a final week training her riding bird to not throw off her new saddlebags in a fit of affectionate excitement whenever Anne approached.
The same bird that Anne was riding right now, in fact. Astrid is a bird with a striking blue and white coat, one marking her as a rare bloodline that's found nearly entirely in the flocks of Khot-Sen-Lanua's Silef population. The bird has heart, both in terms of endurance and affection, but she's not the smartest bird the clan has raised, as dumb as she is adorable.
Still, Anne now sits atop her, Astrid moving at a relaxed pace towards the Caravansary that sits on the solid(ish) mainland next to the City
Called 'The Crossed Trunks', it's recorded that originally this stop for traders and merchants was built where a few of the region's massive cedars had been struck down in a storm and been formed by the titanic winds into a natural shelter from the elements.
The modern Caravansary contains aesthetic nods to its origins, especially in the strategic planting of trees as shade and shelter, and was a sprawling complex of paddocks, warehouses, outbuildings, and bunkhouses that lined the outskirts of Khot and abutted onto a set of piers and the city's most solidly built bridge.
"Which is I keep telling you to-" Her father suddenly sits bolt upright and points towards the outer edge of the Caravansary, "There it is! Tarn's group."
Anne looks carefully, at what just seems to be a muddled mess of distant horses, people, and packages, "How can you tell?"
"Well, I know what to look for, he's mainly bringing…"
[ ] "...Books"
Seth has spotted the distinctive waterproof crates that were designed to carry the mass produced books that Khot-Sen-Lanua's university presses have begun running off in bulk over the last century.
The Caravan leader has decided that nothing's more valuable than knowledge, so despite the weight and room that books occupy he's decided to make half his cargo a variety of tomes on hundreds of topics along with language primers.
[ ] "...Optics"
Seth has spotted the distinctive, reinforced and carefully sealed containers that hold within optics of various kinds. Binoculars, spyglasses, eyeglasses, and lenses of various kinds and configurations that were invented Khot-Sen-Lanua and produced in few other places in bulk.
The caravan is hoping that the Dunes don't also produce optical items of the precision and quality of those produced by the Optics Guild… and that these survive the journey.
[ ] "...Alchemics"
Seth has spotted the distinctive warning labels that the Gunpowder Makers' Guild has been forced to label all their products with. Not simply explosives, these also include perfumes, medicines, and other specialty compounds that come from the fevered imaginations of the guild's collection of inventors and madmen.
The Caravan master is hoping that such unique products will not be available anywhere else, and will attract gold and (welcome) attention.
Today's vote (70 word write in) not only covers the kind of cargo Anne will be travelling with, but also will indicate the sort of luxury and specialty goods that Khot-Sen-Lanua produces that are unlikely to be found anywhere else. Or at least, that's the hope. In this case about half of the cargo will be the winning vote, but the other entries may also be found in the rest of the cargo.
As a reminder, caravan cargos tend to be items with a high profit margin to space taken ratio.
write ins said:
[X] "...inks and dyes." Even from here you can smell the distinct, metallic scent of fresh ink wafting from the cart. Khot-Sen-Lanua's printing presses use them by the barrel, but abroad it's always fetched a high price for its sharp color and clear gloss.
They and the dyes that accompany them are made from a selection of well-cultivated herbs and animals native to the marshland's vibrant ecosystem, lending them a unique quality that cannot be easily matched elsewhere. The caravan will surely make a small fortune selling its stock to eager scholars and tailors.
Even from here you can smell the distinct, metallic scent of fresh ink wafting from the cart. Khot-Sen-Lanua's printing presses use them by the barrel, but abroad it's always fetched a high price for its sharp color and clear gloss.
They and the dyes that accompany them are made from a selection of well-cultivated herbs and animals native to the marshland's vibrant ecosystem, lending them a unique quality that cannot be easily matched elsewhere. The caravan will surely make a small fortune selling its stock to eager scholars and tailors.
Anywhoo, I think I'm going to settle on the title being "Journeywoman's Journeys: a Fantasy Age of Exploration Worldbuilding Quest (Updated Daily)" then rewriting the opening to let people know what's going on.
(I'm kinda a fan of the alliteration tbh, and if no one has objections, I'll prolly change it to that tomorrow)
Anywhoo, I think I'm going to settle on the title being "Journeywoman's Journeys: a Fantasy Age of Exploration Worldbuilding Quest (Updated Daily)" then rewriting the opening to let people know what's going on.
(I'm kinda a fan of the alliteration tbh, and if no one has objections, I'll prolly change it to that tomorrow)
Seth chuckles, "It makes sense, no one else has advanced those arts like we have."
Anne leans forward slightly and bids Astride to pick up the pace slightly. Her father, suddenly finding himself falling behind picks up his pace as well.
"You're that eager to be rid of me?" he says with a grin as he draws near to Anne again.
"I've never left Khot before," Anne says by way of answering, slowing down Astride again, and looking around curiously.
He chuckles, "You know? I haven't much cared for travel. The City's all the world I need." he points towards the spot from earlier, pulling his own riding bird onto a path diverging from the main road, "You must get that wanderlust from the Matriarch, because you surely didn't get it from me or your mother."
"I just need to see what else is out there." Anne shrugs expressively, "I've heard so many stories and I want to see everything for myself."
Seth sighs dramatically, "This really was your grandmother's fault." he says teasingly, "Alright, let's get to work, take a loot around for Tarn. He's the big blond bas- uh, ah, Kal Ymi."
Anne briefly looks around but thankfully Tarn Sey Shar isn't hard to spot.
A tan and chestnut example of the Kal Ymi people with long braided golden brown hair, the centauroid man is a rock standing resolutely in a tide of frantic movement as he directs his caravan into roadworthy condition.
He's in the prime of his middle age, tall enough to see eye to eye with Anne even as she sits atop Astride and quickly takes notice as she and Seth approach.
He shouts orders at a trio of other Kal Ymi then turns to face Anne and her father, a bushy eyebrow raised, "I thought you'd be earlier, girl."
Hmhh, right. Anne remembers now, he's a man that can be… Direct.
"But you're not late either, and you're not hung over, missing any parts, or being chased by a mob. So good job."
"I could just leave." Anne says, half tugging on her riding bird's reins.
He laughs and shakes his head, "No you won't girl."
Anne brings Astride to a halt. Damn, he's right.
Seth just rolls his eyes, and looks around interestedly at the flurry of activity, "Hey Tarn you damp cart humping bastard, how the fuck did you last this long?" he points at some of the boxes being loaded on waggons, "What the hell's this? Books? Spyglasses? Some kind of alchemical pastes for your broke dick?"
There's a moment where Anne's jaw drops -and then Tarn begins to laugh, Seth joining in.
"Did you see your face?" says Tarn to Anne after a moment.
He turns to Seth, "Yeah, like I said last week, I'm focusing on inks and dyes. But I'm taking a bit of a sampler too. You know, books, some lenses and medicines. Standard stuff"
"Yeah, I can see your guys loading up on more mundane shit too." Seth says, raising his head and pointing with his lips towards some humble crates being loaded by Tarn's men, "That's for your next destination right?"
"Yeah, going to sell that for some travelling coin after we get…"
[ ] "...to Gerra"
The closest of Khot-Sen-Lanua's allied cities, the city state of Gerra lies along the coast to the north. While Khot-Sen-Lanua has its own coastal access, Gerra's harbour is the deepest and widest year round ice free harbour in the known world. Protected from storms and attack by a crescent shaped island that protects Gerra's harbour, it's reputed to be the world's greatest port city and is the westernmost trade hub of the confederation of city states to which Khot is a member.
Tarn plans to take the roads up to Gerra and from there seek passage to the east on the placid river that runs into Gerra's harbour.
[ ] "... through Kana"
The nearest of Khot-Sen-Lanua's allied cities. Lying to the west of Khot-Sen-Lanua, Kana barely qualifies as a city, being in reality the first amongst equals of a patchwork of Orisatl settled villages that lie along an inland valley.
Known as the origin for much of the raw materials that flow through the cities, Kana remains something of a sleepy backwater country town to the east of Khot-Sen-Lanua. Its main claim to fame being it's large market and the hall where local leaders meet to send representatives to the other cities.
Tarn plans to take on supplies at Kana and continue along the northward leading roads towards the border.
[ ] "...to Takan"
Hoping to bypass the mountain range that borders the cities to the east, Tarn is headed southeast towards the mountain fortress city of Takana. Settled by Silef centuries ago, Takana guards the south eastern flank of the cities and their mercenary companies are oft rivals to the companies of the Glittering Spears.
Tarn hopes to swing around the mountains now before heading northeast
For this vote (write ins are 110 words), I'm hoping to establish another of Khot-Sen-Lanua's sister city-states and I'm looking for what the terrain is like, where it lies in comparison to Khot, it's place in the nameless confederation of cities (which we really need to name soon), and a bit about it's population, as well as why Tarn is headed towards there first.
