AestheticDeath
08-04-2008, 05:09 AM
Taking offers/bids on this EG auctioned ferroniere. Trades are welcome.
a faceted golden blazestar ferroniere strung from a delicate faenor chain
- Wizard only
- enhances earthlore +10 skill
- mana regen +1
- Costs 24k BPs to recharge.
- head worn
No idea how many charges cause of the loresong. Assuming it is persistant.
loresong:
An image coalesces in your mind's eye. An elven child strides jauntily up a mountain trail with an older man at her side. In a flash of prescience, the man pushes the girl aside, an avalanche of rock and dirt crashes onto the path, burying him. The girl screams in horror and flings herself on the pile, vainly pushing at the large rocks. Abruptly, the earth and rock begin to shift and slide, unearthing the injured man. The girl sheds tears of joy as she dusts him off and he pats her back soothingly.
A new image falls across the canvas of your mind. The girl is years older, though still young, her cropped brown hair revealing upswept, pointed ears, and her golden robes suggesting a slim, boyish figure. She stands at the center of a domed hall and bows her head as a white-robed, snow-haired woman crowns her with a faenor-strung golden blazestar. The girl lifts her head, and her brown eyes sparkle with pride as she meets the gaze of her father, leaning on his cane near the back of the assembly.
The thundering beat of hooves washes over you as you continue to sing. The elven maid rides into the thick of battle, firing arrow after arrow into the throng of raging barbarians. She rushes toward a troupe of beleaguered elves cornered on the far side of the field. As she rides, she raises her arms and invokes a spell, the golden gem on her brow flashing. Abruptly, the earth at the feet of the attackers explodes, knocking them to their knees and pummeling them with shards of rock and clods of dirt.
As your song winds to a close, a final image flickers across your mind. A portrait of the warrior maiden stands on an easel at the heart of the domed assembly hall. Before the portrait, a small altar stands with a tall faenor urn upon it. The assemblage of mages passes before the urn, bowing their heads in respect, some kneeling briefly or kissing their fingertips and touching the urn as they pass. Upon each brow is a golden blazestar, and as the image winks out, you notice a like gem adorning the urn.
a faceted golden blazestar ferroniere strung from a delicate faenor chain
- Wizard only
- enhances earthlore +10 skill
- mana regen +1
- Costs 24k BPs to recharge.
- head worn
No idea how many charges cause of the loresong. Assuming it is persistant.
loresong:
An image coalesces in your mind's eye. An elven child strides jauntily up a mountain trail with an older man at her side. In a flash of prescience, the man pushes the girl aside, an avalanche of rock and dirt crashes onto the path, burying him. The girl screams in horror and flings herself on the pile, vainly pushing at the large rocks. Abruptly, the earth and rock begin to shift and slide, unearthing the injured man. The girl sheds tears of joy as she dusts him off and he pats her back soothingly.
A new image falls across the canvas of your mind. The girl is years older, though still young, her cropped brown hair revealing upswept, pointed ears, and her golden robes suggesting a slim, boyish figure. She stands at the center of a domed hall and bows her head as a white-robed, snow-haired woman crowns her with a faenor-strung golden blazestar. The girl lifts her head, and her brown eyes sparkle with pride as she meets the gaze of her father, leaning on his cane near the back of the assembly.
The thundering beat of hooves washes over you as you continue to sing. The elven maid rides into the thick of battle, firing arrow after arrow into the throng of raging barbarians. She rushes toward a troupe of beleaguered elves cornered on the far side of the field. As she rides, she raises her arms and invokes a spell, the golden gem on her brow flashing. Abruptly, the earth at the feet of the attackers explodes, knocking them to their knees and pummeling them with shards of rock and clods of dirt.
As your song winds to a close, a final image flickers across your mind. A portrait of the warrior maiden stands on an easel at the heart of the domed assembly hall. Before the portrait, a small altar stands with a tall faenor urn upon it. The assemblage of mages passes before the urn, bowing their heads in respect, some kneeling briefly or kissing their fingertips and touching the urn as they pass. Upon each brow is a golden blazestar, and as the image winks out, you notice a like gem adorning the urn.