Inspire
12-14-2009, 08:30 PM
First AIM/PM.
GONE!
a thin wyrwood composite bow
6x, Exceptionally Crit Sighted
Show:
Narrow wyrwood branches have been tightly woven, every tiny crevice filled with a hard, translucent lacquer. Visible beneath the varnish, scales have been carved into each branch, forming an upper and lower limb that seem composed of entwined serpents. The lower nock is formed of the hooked tails of the branches, while the upper is formed as a single head rises from the mass of snakes, the string clasped in its fangs. Green suede wraps the grip, offset by an overlapping crescent design in bronze ink. You also notice a small enchanter’s glyph.
Loresong:
As the notes of your song reach out to the bow, a vision unfolds before your mind's eye. The brightness of the day makes you squint against it, the sun vibrant in a flawless azure sky. It is early in the year by the look of the trees flanking the temple nearby, and an icy bite still clings to the wind as it rushes past you. Despite the seeming perfection of the day, a heavy sorrow shrouds your heart. With a weighty sigh, you begin walking toward the temple, and your vision fades to black.
Heralding the memories of the bow, the interior of a temple materializes before your eyes. Upon a raised dais is an altar, and beyond that is a towering statue of Lorminstra. As you approach, the light caressing the folds of her marble robe make them seem to flow. However, your attention parts from the monument as you reach the altar, and you gaze upon the body of a man. His cheeks are pale and his skin cold. Beneath his folded hands lies a composite bow, and as you look to his face, your sight fails.
Your song opens again a vision, and you find yourself kneeling at an altar, hands clinging to the corpse upon it. "Give him back to me," you hear yourself whisper. "Give him back." The grief in your words solidifies, turning to an anger that consumes you. You rip free the ebon gate talisman around your neck, screaming, "If you will not, I will find another who will!" Your cry comes as you sling the talisman at the statue, and you hear it clatter to the floor as your vision closes.
Your song brings to your sight a tall shadow; it hisses, "Sssso you will..." Your heart skips as mist forms, flowing to enshroud the man and the bow he clutches. For the briefest moment, the body is obscured. The slightest breath moves the man's chest, and you gasp, daring to hope. You lean in, and the man's eyes suddenly flash open, their slit pupils constricting as he lunges. Your screams echo in your ears as you feel the pressure of his serpentine fangs, and the vision dies.
GONE!
a thin wyrwood composite bow
6x, Exceptionally Crit Sighted
Show:
Narrow wyrwood branches have been tightly woven, every tiny crevice filled with a hard, translucent lacquer. Visible beneath the varnish, scales have been carved into each branch, forming an upper and lower limb that seem composed of entwined serpents. The lower nock is formed of the hooked tails of the branches, while the upper is formed as a single head rises from the mass of snakes, the string clasped in its fangs. Green suede wraps the grip, offset by an overlapping crescent design in bronze ink. You also notice a small enchanter’s glyph.
Loresong:
As the notes of your song reach out to the bow, a vision unfolds before your mind's eye. The brightness of the day makes you squint against it, the sun vibrant in a flawless azure sky. It is early in the year by the look of the trees flanking the temple nearby, and an icy bite still clings to the wind as it rushes past you. Despite the seeming perfection of the day, a heavy sorrow shrouds your heart. With a weighty sigh, you begin walking toward the temple, and your vision fades to black.
Heralding the memories of the bow, the interior of a temple materializes before your eyes. Upon a raised dais is an altar, and beyond that is a towering statue of Lorminstra. As you approach, the light caressing the folds of her marble robe make them seem to flow. However, your attention parts from the monument as you reach the altar, and you gaze upon the body of a man. His cheeks are pale and his skin cold. Beneath his folded hands lies a composite bow, and as you look to his face, your sight fails.
Your song opens again a vision, and you find yourself kneeling at an altar, hands clinging to the corpse upon it. "Give him back to me," you hear yourself whisper. "Give him back." The grief in your words solidifies, turning to an anger that consumes you. You rip free the ebon gate talisman around your neck, screaming, "If you will not, I will find another who will!" Your cry comes as you sling the talisman at the statue, and you hear it clatter to the floor as your vision closes.
Your song brings to your sight a tall shadow; it hisses, "Sssso you will..." Your heart skips as mist forms, flowing to enshroud the man and the bow he clutches. For the briefest moment, the body is obscured. The slightest breath moves the man's chest, and you gasp, daring to hope. You lean in, and the man's eyes suddenly flash open, their slit pupils constricting as he lunges. Your screams echo in your ears as you feel the pressure of his serpentine fangs, and the vision dies.