Event  The Travelers
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Canine 9999yo Genderfluid, Tall & Bulky Native 23 posts 0 Honor 99,395 ☪ Staff
Dawn comes, and with it the warm and brilliant light of Udane. Mid-summer is in full swing and many natives of Ourania might remember that such a time precedes the arrival of adventure. Right on time (for they are rarely, if ever, late) a shadow crests the horizon, coming from the east. With the brilliant rising sun as their backdrop, two creatures mount the outer reach of Anemone with a calm and easy pace, smiles of familiarity firmly painted upon their faces. The brilliant green grass of the meadowlands welcomes them with a shy wave beneath a breeze, kicking up a trail of blossoms that seems to beckon them back with equal zeal. 

They are man and woman, Equine and Canine, and grizzled with an age that can only be called beautiful. Ailill, the equine, pulls a small wooden cart behind him while Ainila, his grayed wife, travels alongside him. They are both gray and weathered in ways that speak of their travels, for they have been doing it for many hundreds of years. Natives to Ourania, they absconded the lands’ traditions for species preference and instead coupled and chose a life of travel: imbued with a loose version of the Immortality the land offered them, they carried about their necks amulets that served to keep them as preserved as they could be while not on Ouranian soil. And so, by oath and love they adventured land and sea, always bringing back with them a taste of the foreign wares they picked up in their travels. Mid-Udane, as it were, is one such time they choose to come home. 

When the sun is high and late morning hangs, they’ve made their cart into a perfect stand to showcase their wares. There isn’t much -- a few trifles here, some sundries there -- but they offer it to their fellow citizens with a warm smile and, usually, a story or two about the places they’ve been. 

Welcome Ailill and Ainila, the Travelers!
They bring with them goods from far-off lands. Their inventory is minimal, and won’t last long. 
Be sure to browse it at the Marketplace!

Ainila smiles as you reach for the flask, her blue eyes tucked behind a veil of ornate wisdom and age. “A good choice,” she says warmly, stepping forward to present it to you. It’s round and hand-smoothed, decorated with a leaf at the cork. “These were made by a group of island settlers to the east,” she explains. “They were very talented with their hands, and made tools from nearly any material imaginable. Use it well!” 

“Ah, those were from Royalty, ya!” Ailill’s smile widens, the pink snip between his nostrils wrinkling. The crowns themselves are all seated on individual pillows of cloth, all the better to show them off. “Ainila and I found ourselves outside a royal caravan in the city of Lilygone to the north. Buildings and cobblestones as far as the eye could see. Turns out that caravan was carrying the Royal family. They were passing out goods to the peoples!” The old draft can hardly contain his excitement. “Afore we knew it, they’d tossed out these pretty things. Wear ‘em in good health!”

“That,” Ainila declares, “is some of the finest wool I’ve ever touched. Strong, warm, and impervious to the elements.” She dons it with a sweep of fabric, demonstrating the good fit as it settles across her back, the muzzle protruding from beneath the hood. “We came across a vast forest-land to the West, with trees taller than the Gods themselves. The woodsmen there traded these cloaks for flasks of a fine wine we’d been carrying. We got the better end of that bargain, I’m sure!”

Ailill’s eyes narrow in good humor as your eyes find the simple dice. “Now those,” he said slyly, “might look like reg’lar dice, but they carry a bit o’ magic in ‘em too.” His prehensile lips gently pick them up and give them a toss. They click and clunk across the wooden board of the cart’s floor, coming to rest with symbols-up. “Don’t know what them symbols mean, but they’re mighty lucky. You find yourself in a tough spot, give ‘em a roll and see if the Fates can’t help you out a bit.”