Dahal Al'Ramishin - The house of hundred wonders
Hot, unrelenting wind and the glare of the midday sun bakes the clay streets of Al'nahar. Your steps echo softly across the cobblestones and the scent of strange spices and distant charcoal fires lingers in the air. As you turn down a particularly narrow, shadowed alley, seemingly leading nowhere, a building tucked quietly into a corner catches your eye. Its facade, unlike the bustling merchant houses around you, is plain and unassuming, a soft, faded ochre against the vibrant city. A heavy, unadorned wooden door, its surface bearing an intricate, swirling medallion of bronze, stands slightly ajar, promising respite from the heat.
You push the door open, stepping from the harsh glare into the cool, shadowed embrace of the interior. The air within carries the scent of aged dust and faint, sweet incense. From the deeper twilight of the hall, a figure emerges, its movements the slow, deliberate glide like of those blessed by many years. The man's frame carries the gentle stoop of many seasons with ease, and his eyes, deep-set pools the color of aged amber, crinkle with genuine warmth at their corners.
As he approaches, silver threads sprinkle a once black beard that frames a face deeply etched with the passages of time. He wears clothes of simple, stitched linen, soft with age and perhaps the dust of countless forgotten artifacts. Around his neck hangs a single, smooth river stone, worn to a comfortable sheen. His hands, though slender, are strong, their fingertips slightly broadened, forged by years of tracing delicate surfaces and fragile artifacts. As he speaks, his voice is a low, resonant murmur, the gentle rustle of palm fronds in a soft breeze, each word deliberate, soft, as if carefully selected from a vast, silent library.
(Click the portrait)
On a weathered, raised podium, arranged amidst a bed of dark reeds, rests a pair of large, peculiar foot coverings. Flexible, pale branches, artfully bent and bound, form a lattice intricately woven with dark reeds, creating a wide, almost oval base. Loops of sturdy hide are fastened to the lattice, clearly designed to secure them to the feet. Despite their impressive size, they appear remarkably light, not as heavy as the leather shoes that most Kaharan people wear.
A faint, earthy scent, like damp soil from a distant, verdant place, still clings to them, a faint whisper that tells of distant lands. You can almost feel the phantom squelch of a foot, hear the whispering waters part around the broad bases as someone takes a careful step across soft, yielding ground.
Your gaze drifts to the small, unassuming plaque beside them.
Moatwalkers Boots
200 years after Eclipse This footwear is essential for the Madani, allowing them to travel through their homeland's wet marshes. Crafted from supple swamp willow and intricately woven reeds, the boots' wide design spreads a person's weight, making it possible to cross soft, yielding bogs and the shallow, whispering waters. The supple swamp willow used in their construction is also known to ward off common marsh fevers.
A large, bleached bone lies on the brown, tattered remnants of a tunic. Bleached and smoothed by countless touches, it is covered in hundreds of small carvings: tiny, intricate notches, some rough and deep, others shallow and worn almost smooth. They form complex, dancing patterns that feel deliberate, almost rhythmic, as if each one is a single, precise stroke in a vast, silent script.
You carefully rest your hand on the rough bone, tracing the grooves to find meaning in the abstract shapes, feeling the ghost of ancient hands tracing them alongside you. This bone feels heavy, not just with weight, but with history. You brush across the rough, coarse fabric of the tunic and it feels like the rustle of an unseen wind whispers trough the hall.
The small, unadorned plaque beside the bone reads:
Carved bone fragment
180 years after the eclipse Found clutched I the hands of a lone wanderer in the arid sands, its peculiar shape suggests it served as a ceremonial instrument, perhaps a drum stick for the Children of the Plains, a people known for their deep connection to ancestral practices and their tribes. Yet, scholars debate its true purpose; its dense carvings hinting at a unique form of record-keeping or missive.
Mounted to the wall, on a colorful tapestry hangs a large, oval-shaped shield .Hardened hide stretches taut over a wooden, damaged frame. One side is violently splintered inward, as if struck by the angry cleave of a giant beast, leaving a jagged, gaping wound. Its surface is scarred with dark, irregular scorch marks, and multiple arrows are still stuck to the shield.
Still, even the extensive damage cannot distract from the beauty this shield once possessed; faded geometric patterns and bold, sweeping lines are faintly visible, remnants of once vibrant colors. As you trace the marks of destruction, a weight of sorrow and loss seems to settle upon the air around you, drawing your gaze to the inscription on the wall, curious to find out more about its origin.
Warshield of the Moyo'ala
180 years after the eclipse This formidable warshield belonged to the tribe of the Moyo'ala. It was crafted from the iron-tough hide of the great lizards roaming the obsidian wastes and the resilient reeds of the Great River. The shield was found in the aftermath of the "Battle where Silence Fell" - a harrowing, final clash between the Moyo'ala and Ri'kahar. Not a single soul survived, leaving behind only death, this scarred shield, and whispered tales of an unspeakable end.
Oh this is an interesting way to answer this prompt Tyrdal, I like this. A building as the item, and its actually full of items itself, which each alone potentially could have been the article. That's creative, I enjoyed that little twist and stretch of the prompt. As usual, as expected, you weave the article more like a journey, like an adventure, so as to not just teach to to provide the experience. The sensation of being present, not just reading of, but being present in the moment, in the locale. An excellent job! And certainly one I shall be tucking in my collection :)