Dothstar's_Seven
05-30-2013, 08:30 PM
I'm selling items. Hooray!
Feel free to throw questions or comments in the thread. Or a message. Whatever works.
If you're one of those folks who'd rather pay for something with real Amerikan dollars, send a message.
I'm not really interested in trades, but if you want to try to make a deal I'll take a look.
I'll try to update at least once a day after I get off of work.
Once, twice, thrice, sold format.
I might add more items as I dig around in my lockers.
Delivery to FWI, Mule, Sol, and the Landing. I hate Teras and the EN, but I suppose I could manage to get there if I had to.
Yadda, yadda.
~The Rings~
FROST RING
a translucent blown glass ring chased with cloudy white swirls
As you rub the blown glass ring, a layer of niveous white frost forms around the ring and quickly spreads to your right hand, forming a jagged chunk of white ice.
Pretty self explanatory. Make a ball of frost and do scripty things with it.
MB: 15m
BO: 30m
~The Things~
LIGHT BRACER
a pale golden hazelwood bracer
The natural grain of the hazelwood is unmarked, merely polished and oiled into a smooth cylinder of striated gold. Tawny leather laces the thin wooden bracer closed on both sides.
You determine that you could wear the bracer around your wrist. The bracer appears to serve some purpose.
Self Knowledge Light (205) enhansive. Almost innumerable charges remaining!
Loresong:
Faint images coalesce in your mind's eye but they are fleeting -- a flash of pale hair, the gleam of brilliant blue eyes, a flushed and downy cheek.
A stronger vision follows: a pair of small, supple arms swinging back and forth, their long-fingered hands clasped. Both wear wooden bracers, one a golden twin to that which you hold while the other is black as pitch.
The beat of small, running feet is wound through with a melody of laughter. The hands separate and between them you can just glimpse a great temple in the distance, looming over a sprawling village, before the images dissolve altogether.
The ghostly figure of a young woman, hardly more than a child, flickers into being at the edge of your vision. As she walks, the stately columns and carvings of a temple shimmer into view in her wake. Sunlight streams through high, arched windows and paints loving highlights across her brilliant blue robe.
Others are visible now, arrayed on the opposite side of the brightly lit circular chamber. Most wear blue robes like those of the girl, but the woman at the center is clad in pure and flowing white and wears a heavy golden medallion in the shape of a stylized sunburst.
The girl finishes her circuit of the ornate chamber and kneels before this central figure. She bows her head and holds up her hands, revealing strong and slender limbs clasped about the wrists with golden hazelwood bracers.
The white-clad priestess places her hands atop the girl's fair hair and murmurs an invocation that causes them to glow. Her hands move next to wrap about the girl's wrists. This time, her voice rings out for all to hear. "Be bound to the Sun, my child," she says clearly, and the luminescence of her hands seeps into the hazelwood bracers and fades from view. "Serve in the light, and you will be safe from the darkness."
Her dedication complete, the priestess lets her hands fall and steps back. The girl stands and bows deeply, but her expression as she rises is bittersweet.
A single tear rolls down her cheek and splatters on the stone floor, shattering the vision and returning your sight to normal.
The air about you warps as you sing, bleeding colors into each other and repatterning darkness and light.
The lengthening shadows of dusk leech color from your sight. A familiar fair-haired woman, older now, walks in a line through the vast temple halls, chanting melodically and making sweeping gestures with blue-robed arms. It is a stately dance and performed with an air of long habit.
Another line of figures approaches from the opposite direction, robed entirely in black. Their movements, though lacking in the broad and airy vibrancy of the blue-clad men and women, are no less graceful for it. They trace a pattern across the floor with their steps, lighting torches on both sides of the hall with fluid flicks of their wrists and fingers.
When the two lines meet, their practiced motions mingle and complement each other. The black-robed figures weave an intricate pattern through those robed in blue, and the sway of their bodies as they light the torches is a counterpoint to the others' sweeping arms.
But when two particular robed figures, both pale-haired and strikingly similar of feature, draw near to each other, they do not sway apart but move closer still, almost touching. This gesture too, although a break from the pattern thus far, bears a practiced look. The motions of these two are controlled, straining toward each other yet neither crossing that final distance that separates them.
Their moment of closeness is fleeting, however. They pass each other in their proscribed steps. The woman raises an arm smoothly in time with her brethren, and the black-robed man brings a torch to flickering life with the rotation of one black-bracered wrist.
The two lines continue onward in opposite directions. As the last of the blue-robed figures pass by, the torches gutter and extinguish themselves, allowing the passage of day into night.
Upon a bier at its center lies the frail, white-robed body of a man. His hair is a cloud of ivory about his heavily lined face, and the black fel bracers he wears are crossed over his sunken chest. Wound through one gnarled hand is a thick chain bearing a sword-shaped pendant of obsidian edged with silver.
A shadow detatches itself from the darkness shrouding the walls. Soft light flickers across the pure white robes of a woman bent with age. Breathing shallowly, she stands beside the bier for a long moment then gives a long, drawn-out sigh. The woman straightens with a shudder, as though a burden has lifted from her shoulders, then carefully stretches out on the platform beside its unliving resident.
She curls at his side, one thin arm winding about his own and clasping his cold hand in hers. The pale golden hue of her hazelwood bracer stands in stark contrast to his own fel bands, but the joining is harmonious and perhaps long overdue.
With a smile, the old woman rests her head on the dead man's shoulder and closes her watery blue eyes. "As in birth, so in death, beloved," she murmurs, and her next words are her last. "You first, but I swiftly follow."
As the vision fades, she, too, ceases to breathe.
MB: 5m
BO: 15m
EPEEN AXE
a colossal executioner's axe
The most striking feature of this weapon is not the craftmanship of the blade or the finely hewn wood of the haft, but rather the overwhelming size of the piece. On looks alone, the axe, even when in both hands, would almost seem to be unwieldy for the largest of giants and is, at the very least, a formidable choice in weaponry. You also notice a small enchanter's glyph.
After a careful inspection you determine that a colossal executioner's axe requires skill in twohanded weapons to use effectively.
You swing your executioner's axe up into the air over your shoulder then down toward the ground in a powerful chopping motion.
You gingerly run your finger over your executioner's axe, testing the sharpness of the blade.
... and a few other scripts.
7x
5lbs. Max lightened.
Comes with a custom weapon displaying sheath!
a long leather axe harness
You glance at the harness. A series of thick shoulder straps appears to be secured to a long, thin strip of leather meant to drape down the back of the wearer, enough to extend the entire length of the body. Attached to the end of the leather strip is a small steel catch.
MB: 6m
BO: 10m
~The (Girly) Things~
VANISHING POINT CORSET
a copper lace corset draping fitted tiers of thin laje chain from neckline to hem
Locked.
210k dez SOLD
Feel free to throw questions or comments in the thread. Or a message. Whatever works.
If you're one of those folks who'd rather pay for something with real Amerikan dollars, send a message.
I'm not really interested in trades, but if you want to try to make a deal I'll take a look.
I'll try to update at least once a day after I get off of work.
Once, twice, thrice, sold format.
I might add more items as I dig around in my lockers.
Delivery to FWI, Mule, Sol, and the Landing. I hate Teras and the EN, but I suppose I could manage to get there if I had to.
Yadda, yadda.
~The Rings~
FROST RING
a translucent blown glass ring chased with cloudy white swirls
As you rub the blown glass ring, a layer of niveous white frost forms around the ring and quickly spreads to your right hand, forming a jagged chunk of white ice.
Pretty self explanatory. Make a ball of frost and do scripty things with it.
MB: 15m
BO: 30m
~The Things~
LIGHT BRACER
a pale golden hazelwood bracer
The natural grain of the hazelwood is unmarked, merely polished and oiled into a smooth cylinder of striated gold. Tawny leather laces the thin wooden bracer closed on both sides.
You determine that you could wear the bracer around your wrist. The bracer appears to serve some purpose.
Self Knowledge Light (205) enhansive. Almost innumerable charges remaining!
Loresong:
Faint images coalesce in your mind's eye but they are fleeting -- a flash of pale hair, the gleam of brilliant blue eyes, a flushed and downy cheek.
A stronger vision follows: a pair of small, supple arms swinging back and forth, their long-fingered hands clasped. Both wear wooden bracers, one a golden twin to that which you hold while the other is black as pitch.
The beat of small, running feet is wound through with a melody of laughter. The hands separate and between them you can just glimpse a great temple in the distance, looming over a sprawling village, before the images dissolve altogether.
The ghostly figure of a young woman, hardly more than a child, flickers into being at the edge of your vision. As she walks, the stately columns and carvings of a temple shimmer into view in her wake. Sunlight streams through high, arched windows and paints loving highlights across her brilliant blue robe.
Others are visible now, arrayed on the opposite side of the brightly lit circular chamber. Most wear blue robes like those of the girl, but the woman at the center is clad in pure and flowing white and wears a heavy golden medallion in the shape of a stylized sunburst.
The girl finishes her circuit of the ornate chamber and kneels before this central figure. She bows her head and holds up her hands, revealing strong and slender limbs clasped about the wrists with golden hazelwood bracers.
The white-clad priestess places her hands atop the girl's fair hair and murmurs an invocation that causes them to glow. Her hands move next to wrap about the girl's wrists. This time, her voice rings out for all to hear. "Be bound to the Sun, my child," she says clearly, and the luminescence of her hands seeps into the hazelwood bracers and fades from view. "Serve in the light, and you will be safe from the darkness."
Her dedication complete, the priestess lets her hands fall and steps back. The girl stands and bows deeply, but her expression as she rises is bittersweet.
A single tear rolls down her cheek and splatters on the stone floor, shattering the vision and returning your sight to normal.
The air about you warps as you sing, bleeding colors into each other and repatterning darkness and light.
The lengthening shadows of dusk leech color from your sight. A familiar fair-haired woman, older now, walks in a line through the vast temple halls, chanting melodically and making sweeping gestures with blue-robed arms. It is a stately dance and performed with an air of long habit.
Another line of figures approaches from the opposite direction, robed entirely in black. Their movements, though lacking in the broad and airy vibrancy of the blue-clad men and women, are no less graceful for it. They trace a pattern across the floor with their steps, lighting torches on both sides of the hall with fluid flicks of their wrists and fingers.
When the two lines meet, their practiced motions mingle and complement each other. The black-robed figures weave an intricate pattern through those robed in blue, and the sway of their bodies as they light the torches is a counterpoint to the others' sweeping arms.
But when two particular robed figures, both pale-haired and strikingly similar of feature, draw near to each other, they do not sway apart but move closer still, almost touching. This gesture too, although a break from the pattern thus far, bears a practiced look. The motions of these two are controlled, straining toward each other yet neither crossing that final distance that separates them.
Their moment of closeness is fleeting, however. They pass each other in their proscribed steps. The woman raises an arm smoothly in time with her brethren, and the black-robed man brings a torch to flickering life with the rotation of one black-bracered wrist.
The two lines continue onward in opposite directions. As the last of the blue-robed figures pass by, the torches gutter and extinguish themselves, allowing the passage of day into night.
Upon a bier at its center lies the frail, white-robed body of a man. His hair is a cloud of ivory about his heavily lined face, and the black fel bracers he wears are crossed over his sunken chest. Wound through one gnarled hand is a thick chain bearing a sword-shaped pendant of obsidian edged with silver.
A shadow detatches itself from the darkness shrouding the walls. Soft light flickers across the pure white robes of a woman bent with age. Breathing shallowly, she stands beside the bier for a long moment then gives a long, drawn-out sigh. The woman straightens with a shudder, as though a burden has lifted from her shoulders, then carefully stretches out on the platform beside its unliving resident.
She curls at his side, one thin arm winding about his own and clasping his cold hand in hers. The pale golden hue of her hazelwood bracer stands in stark contrast to his own fel bands, but the joining is harmonious and perhaps long overdue.
With a smile, the old woman rests her head on the dead man's shoulder and closes her watery blue eyes. "As in birth, so in death, beloved," she murmurs, and her next words are her last. "You first, but I swiftly follow."
As the vision fades, she, too, ceases to breathe.
MB: 5m
BO: 15m
EPEEN AXE
a colossal executioner's axe
The most striking feature of this weapon is not the craftmanship of the blade or the finely hewn wood of the haft, but rather the overwhelming size of the piece. On looks alone, the axe, even when in both hands, would almost seem to be unwieldy for the largest of giants and is, at the very least, a formidable choice in weaponry. You also notice a small enchanter's glyph.
After a careful inspection you determine that a colossal executioner's axe requires skill in twohanded weapons to use effectively.
You swing your executioner's axe up into the air over your shoulder then down toward the ground in a powerful chopping motion.
You gingerly run your finger over your executioner's axe, testing the sharpness of the blade.
... and a few other scripts.
7x
5lbs. Max lightened.
Comes with a custom weapon displaying sheath!
a long leather axe harness
You glance at the harness. A series of thick shoulder straps appears to be secured to a long, thin strip of leather meant to drape down the back of the wearer, enough to extend the entire length of the body. Attached to the end of the leather strip is a small steel catch.
MB: 6m
BO: 10m
~The (Girly) Things~
VANISHING POINT CORSET
a copper lace corset draping fitted tiers of thin laje chain from neckline to hem
Locked.
210k dez SOLD