A crystal-domed blue scarab ring; twice daily self charging, zesty, lore song story
Will update bids daily. Once, Twice, Sold.
A crystal-domed blue scarab ring; twice daily self charging, zesty, lore song story
I'm selling a ring for someone. They changed their mind on price and we are now auctioning this:
MB: 1 fixskill potion AND 5 million or any combination (1 fixskill potion @ 5 million each). Seller is looking for fixskills, but will take silvers to trade out for fixskills.
BO = 10 fixskill or 50 million silver or any combination with 1 fixskill @ 5 million silver
XXX says, "Ok 2 times a day unpoison, and 2 times a day undisease."
Tap will change it from unpoison to undisease and back.
Rub to use.
You analyze your blue scarab ring and sense that the item cannot be altered in any way.
The creator has also provided the following information:
You could TAP the ring to change from blue scarab to green scarab and back. You could RUB, WEAR, REMOVE, POKE, GLARE, TURN, TILT, COVER, TOUCH, and OPEN the ring.
You get no sense of whether or not the ring may be further lightened.
Lore Song Story
XXX says, "This ring came from the delirium manor by the way."
An image forms of a red carpeted room with tall mullioned windows on one wall.
Yellow firelight rises and falls on the walls of this paneled library, like sea waves lapping at the shore. A pale woman, her breath coming unevenly, sits in a green damask chair, leaning back in apparent exhaustion.
Next to the chair, a silver tray sits on a small table. A wine glass, now empty, has fallen over and rolls slowly side to side'.
A young man rushes about the room, pulling open drawers and tossing aside books.
Twice, he crosses back to the woman, and stares at her bare hand, as if he cannot believe what he see.
Both times, he lifts her limp and unprotesting body to look through the pockets of her dress. Finally, after one convulsive breath, the woman breathes no more.
The man falls to his knees beside her, weeping as he clutches her hand. The firelight continues its slow dance on the dark wood walls.
In the background, a grey-clad serving maid stands unnoticed. As she draws her own hand from behind her back, her lips curl almost imperceptibly and a blue-green spark flashes from between her closed fingers.
An image forms of a dark dining room. Several candelabra on the sideboard are bristling with lit candles, but their flickering flames do little to light the room.
An old man sits at the head of a long table laden with a feast. He speaks loudly and makes large gestures as the members of his family watches from their seats around the table. One young man speaks to him, receiving a slap to the face in response.
A servant, ladling soup, spills it on the white tablecloth and there is a sharp intake of breath from everyone. Pale faces ring the table. The old man pauses in his diatribe, and turns slowly to the servant, who has by now begun to shake. He forces the servant to kneel and he pours hot soup over his head, laughing.
The servant does not cry out. Instead, his mouth is firmly closed. When the old man is done with his punishment and has turned his attention back to his dinner, the servant quickly and furiously rubs his mouth.
Nervous looks fly around the table as the others wait in apparent anxiety. They fiddle with their soup spoons, but none drink. The old man, not noticing, slurps his soup with relish.
Spoonful after spoonful go into his grey-lipped old mouth. Finally his arm slows and he begins to shake violently. Comprehension lights his features and he howls in rage, but his outburst only serves to speed the spread of the poison. As his skin grows pale and his breathing erratic, he fumbles with a large gold ring he wears on his finger.
Like lightning, three of the men jump up from the table to hold him. The old man struggles to reach the ring with his other hand, but the men pin his arms roughly. Finally, as the rest watch in eerie quiet, the wretched old man goes rigid.
The vision ends abruptly with the thud of his dead body hitting the floor.
A crash of thunder and a flash of lightning interrupt your song. You see a dark road and hear the pounding of hooves, as a man on horseback, his cape flapping behind him, rides like the night itself is chasing him.
He draws up in the pool of white light spilling from the open door of a large manor house. He leaps down recklessly and bounds up the stairs and through the door.
Inside, he finds a somber scene. A knot of people stand, ringed around a tiny bed. Inside it, a child lies, his face ruddy with fever and his golden hair slick with sweat. One woman extends a lily white hand to touch the baby's forehead, and the look of fear and dread on her face, deepens.
The horseman wrenches a large golden ring from his finger and slides it onto the thumb of the child. He leans over the bed, whispering something and taking both of the tiny hands in his. You barely make out a small green flash of light. Almost immediately, the unhealthy brightness starts to fade from the boy's eyes and the red of his cheeks turns to pink.
Outside, the thunder has subsided and a beam of pearly moonlight streams in through the open door. The child struggles to sit up, and his mother, grateful tears wetting her cheeks, hugs him to her.
The vision fades and you are left with the memory of a gentle melody.
MB: 1 fixskill potion AND 5 million or any combination (1 fixskill potion @ 5 million each). Seller is looking for fixskills, but will take silvers to trade out for fixskills.
BO = 10 fixskill or 50 million silver or any combination with 1 fixskill @ 5 million silver
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