thefarmer
01-31-2012, 11:46 PM
a moonlight silver satin cloak
You estimate that a moonlight silver satin cloak can store a very large amount with enough space for any number of items.
You determine that you could wear the cloak, hanging it from your shoulders. The cloak appears to serve some purpose.
You analyze your silver satin cloak and sense that there is no recorded information on that item. It may or may not be able to be worked on by a merchant alterer.
You might be able to have a talented merchant lighten the silver satin cloak for you or have its pockets deepened.
You carefully examine the silver satin cloak and determine that the weight is about 9 pounds.
Loresong:
A silver sheen of magic coats the cloak, flowing over it like a river of essence. The patterns it forms are chaotic and unreadable, leaving no clue as to what its purpose might be.
A high-pitched giggle, completely devoid of any sanity, rings through your mind. For a moment the world shifts, leeched of all known color and familiar landmark. With a nauseating lurch, reality settles back to normal.
Argent moonlight pours over the land, falling from the giant moon that hangs over Melgorehn's Reach. After a moment, a section of the silver light curls and ripples, then floats gently downward. It disappears into the peak, and the scene fades from your mind's eye.
List of scripts I have for now, there's a few more I'm pretty sure.
>tap cloak
You tap your cloak. It ripples about you, seeming almost alive.
>tap cloak
You tap your cloak. With a nearly silent sigh, it falls still.
Vivaldi titters to himself, glancing about rapidly.
You titter to yourself, finding the world impossibly amusing
Vivaldi crosses his arms over his chest and states, "No. I absolutely will not." What he won't do, however, is anyone's guess.
Vivaldi puts his hands to his head and rocks back and forth, looking worried.
Vivaldi looks up as far as he can and gives a friendly wave to the sky.
Ever wonder if the gods get lonely? Certainly they must. Looking up as far as you can, you give them a friendly wave.
Vivaldi looks at <target>, then suddenly begins shrieking in abject terror!
Dear gods, what is that thing on <target's> head?! Upon seeing it, you can do little but shriek in abject terror!
Dear gods, what is that thing over there?! Upon seeing it, you can do little but shriek in abject terror! (Untargeted version)
Cash prefered
You estimate that a moonlight silver satin cloak can store a very large amount with enough space for any number of items.
You determine that you could wear the cloak, hanging it from your shoulders. The cloak appears to serve some purpose.
You analyze your silver satin cloak and sense that there is no recorded information on that item. It may or may not be able to be worked on by a merchant alterer.
You might be able to have a talented merchant lighten the silver satin cloak for you or have its pockets deepened.
You carefully examine the silver satin cloak and determine that the weight is about 9 pounds.
Loresong:
A silver sheen of magic coats the cloak, flowing over it like a river of essence. The patterns it forms are chaotic and unreadable, leaving no clue as to what its purpose might be.
A high-pitched giggle, completely devoid of any sanity, rings through your mind. For a moment the world shifts, leeched of all known color and familiar landmark. With a nauseating lurch, reality settles back to normal.
Argent moonlight pours over the land, falling from the giant moon that hangs over Melgorehn's Reach. After a moment, a section of the silver light curls and ripples, then floats gently downward. It disappears into the peak, and the scene fades from your mind's eye.
List of scripts I have for now, there's a few more I'm pretty sure.
>tap cloak
You tap your cloak. It ripples about you, seeming almost alive.
>tap cloak
You tap your cloak. With a nearly silent sigh, it falls still.
Vivaldi titters to himself, glancing about rapidly.
You titter to yourself, finding the world impossibly amusing
Vivaldi crosses his arms over his chest and states, "No. I absolutely will not." What he won't do, however, is anyone's guess.
Vivaldi puts his hands to his head and rocks back and forth, looking worried.
Vivaldi looks up as far as he can and gives a friendly wave to the sky.
Ever wonder if the gods get lonely? Certainly they must. Looking up as far as you can, you give them a friendly wave.
Vivaldi looks at <target>, then suddenly begins shrieking in abject terror!
Dear gods, what is that thing on <target's> head?! Upon seeing it, you can do little but shriek in abject terror!
Dear gods, what is that thing over there?! Upon seeing it, you can do little but shriek in abject terror! (Untargeted version)
Cash prefered