Lady Lightning
01-26-2017, 09:54 PM
a serrated rolaren knife inlaid with a mosaic of colorful glass- Droughtman's Maze win.
5x with realm flares
Basically, the flares change depending on where you are. Here is more info on the flares. (https://gswiki.play.net/Realm_flare)
CB: 1m Chaoswynd, SOLD
The first thing that strikes you about the knife is the sturdy craftmanship, the uncanny balance, and the elegant design. The metal from which the knife is crafted feels strangely heavy in your hand. You sense rare, wild magics in the weapon, magics that are tied in some elemental fashion to time and place.
Your voice strains to overcome the protective properties of a serrated rolaren knife inlaid with a mosaic of colorful glass. An image, faint at first, forms slowly in your mind. An ancient forge lit by a small, white hot fire. A leather-aproned dwarf, hammer in hand, squinting against the bright fire, intently examining the still hot weapon. A gentle tap here, a feathery touch there, each made with quiet confidence, each touch of hammer to weapon almost a prayer.
The scene shifts as you continue your song. A stone croft on some remote, barren mountainside. Beside the croft, a stone structure resembling a well, but filled with what appears to be peculiar orange sand. The edge of the knife is immersed to the hilt in this odd sand. The dwarven smithy stands well to one side as the sand begins to roil and shift. Waves of power emanate from the sand, enveloping the weapon. Lightning flashes, flames dance around the rim of the structure, the ground rattles, wisps of icy blue fire encircle the weapon, the harsh stink of acid envelopes the area.
Voice cracking, you continue to coax images from the knife. Images from generations of dwarves flicker by, from the first battle of the dwarven clans wars to the clearing of Wehnimer's Landing. You see the knife rising and falling in battle, you hear the sound as it slashes through the air, you feel the solid shock as it strikes bone. Battles fought, prizes won, lives lost. Across the ages the knife has retained its solid form, has kept its feral beauty, has remained true to its purpose.
5x with realm flares
Basically, the flares change depending on where you are. Here is more info on the flares. (https://gswiki.play.net/Realm_flare)
CB: 1m Chaoswynd, SOLD
The first thing that strikes you about the knife is the sturdy craftmanship, the uncanny balance, and the elegant design. The metal from which the knife is crafted feels strangely heavy in your hand. You sense rare, wild magics in the weapon, magics that are tied in some elemental fashion to time and place.
Your voice strains to overcome the protective properties of a serrated rolaren knife inlaid with a mosaic of colorful glass. An image, faint at first, forms slowly in your mind. An ancient forge lit by a small, white hot fire. A leather-aproned dwarf, hammer in hand, squinting against the bright fire, intently examining the still hot weapon. A gentle tap here, a feathery touch there, each made with quiet confidence, each touch of hammer to weapon almost a prayer.
The scene shifts as you continue your song. A stone croft on some remote, barren mountainside. Beside the croft, a stone structure resembling a well, but filled with what appears to be peculiar orange sand. The edge of the knife is immersed to the hilt in this odd sand. The dwarven smithy stands well to one side as the sand begins to roil and shift. Waves of power emanate from the sand, enveloping the weapon. Lightning flashes, flames dance around the rim of the structure, the ground rattles, wisps of icy blue fire encircle the weapon, the harsh stink of acid envelopes the area.
Voice cracking, you continue to coax images from the knife. Images from generations of dwarves flicker by, from the first battle of the dwarven clans wars to the clearing of Wehnimer's Landing. You see the knife rising and falling in battle, you hear the sound as it slashes through the air, you feel the solid shock as it strikes bone. Battles fought, prizes won, lives lost. Across the ages the knife has retained its solid form, has kept its feral beauty, has remained true to its purpose.