Ebon Gate 2006 Lists

[Elvenlady]

Now that is awesome.

[Elvenlady]

Thought I'd post the loresong of the coils to be found in the Barrow.
(Note the base metal was altered for me by the merchant there at the time.)

You are holding a polished copper coil overlaid with a webwork of thin crimson lines in your right hand.

>loresing T'was on an Ebon night like this;I held a coil in my fist
You sing:

"T'was on an Ebon night like this
I held a coil in my fist"

Shadows flicker at the edges of your vision and creep inward. Cries assault you, shrieks of pain and despair mingled with roars of rage and rampant bloodlust. The thud of marching feet joins them, then breaks, scattering into a mad arrhythmic stamping and shuffling.

Ringing metal joins the cacophony, and a single horn blares. Voices are raised in commanding shouts but fall in wet gurgles and are silenced. Wind whistles past your ears and snaps with the sound of heavy cloth.

Abruptly, the chaos falls away, muffled by a heavy, almost tangible silence. Your sight is completely obscured by darkness now, though it is a darkness characterized not by emptiness but by malign presence. Some great pressure fills your mind and presses insistently, painfully, at your skull.

The darkness shreds, and light stabs through your eyes and into your brain. You can see nothing but the glare, shining brighter than can be comprehended as a color. Pure agony travels in its wake.

Just as you feel your every nerve will sear to ash, the light winks out and takes the pain with it. Your vision takes several moments to clear.

Roundtime: 8 sec.

R>loresing The coil twisted, turned and coiled;Around my wrist as 'gainst I toiled
You sing:

"The coil twisted, turned and coiled
Around my wrist as 'gainst I toiled"

Your sight dims and darkness once again encroaches. Silence wraps about you like a heavy blanket.

Weak light flickers into being before you, illuminating a narrow tunnel with walls of piled stone. Shadows cling to the crevices between rocks and fill the niches set deep in the walls. Your vision fixes upon one of these niches, and the shadows withdraw, revealing the body of an armored soldier lying in state. His plate mail is polished, and cut flowers are heaped about his form, along with jewelry in an array of precious metals.

Your sight flows along the dim tunnel, alighting on other niches and other bodies, all similarly arrayed. Some are shrouded in layers of heavy silk that hide them entirely, while others lie draped in flowing robes and are clutching crystal-encrusted staves to their chests. All are surrounded by riches ranging from bolts of fine silk and brocade to bejeweled goblets and ornate weaponry.

Your angle of vision shifts and speeds across the floor of the tunnel as it branches again and again. White stones set in rectangular patterns on the packed earth wink at you in the flickering light. Each rectangle of stones is roughly a man-length, and they stretch away across the floor of the tunnels for as far as you can see.

A faint buzzing sounds in your ears and the tunnel before you warps abruptly, melting to one side before snapping back into focus. The air you breathe grows solid and lodges in your throat. Cracks appear in the floor, small at first but growing larger as you watch. From them, tiny, threadlike streamers of colored light creep outward at a snail's pace and wind toward the walls.

The tunnel warps again and shears in half, scattering into brightly colored sparks and dispersing into nothing.

Roundtime: 10 sec.

R>loresing The coil now a serpent, hissing;Vacant stare with passion missing
You sing:

"The coil now a serpent, hissing
Vacant stare with passion missing"

Multicolored sparks dance before you, weaving a luminous web that pulses brightly even as your vision dims around it. The web of light retreats from you, flattening against rough stone walls that were not there a moment ago.

The colorful lines have a sickly allure, rippling as they crawl slowly across the uneven rock that encloses the vast chamber. The ceiling above is lost in a thick, palpable darkness. Heavy smoke redolent of sulfur drifts up to join it from the low fire burning in a pit in the center of the floor.

Five robed figures circle the fire pit, their arms and voices raised in a forceful chant. One figure casts a handful of amber-colored pellets into the flames, causing them to leap upward and belch sulfurous smoke. The darkness above roils in response.

Tendrils of color creep along the floor and spiral inward toward the spellcasters. As another figure crumbles dark, dried flowers into the flames, the tendrils pause, shrinking back for but a moment before pushing onward. The chant falters, then resumes, but now it carries with it an undercurrent of panic.

The vision wavers and fades with an unnatural abruptness.

Roundtime: 9 sec.

>loresing It's fangs bit deep to end my time;As the coil fell with hollow chime
[script done]
You sing:

"It's fangs bit deep to end my time
As the coil fell with hollow chime"

Your questing song pushes against a wall of resistance. The coil's reticence to give up its secrets wavers, then crumbles, dropping you back among the traceries of luminous color and eye-watering smoke that characterize the underground chamber of your most recent vision. The frantic chanting of raised voices assaults your ears as the images re-imprint themselves on your eyes.

The dancing shadows cast behind each of the robed figures standing around the fire condense, retreating toward their sources as the tendrils of color flow ever closer. Soon they are little but inky puddles, and those that cast them also appear to shrink. They cringe, no longer circling the odoriferous fire but standing in place. Their chant is shrill and thready, then cuts off abruptly with a fivefold shriek of agony.

The colorful tendrils spiraling inward from the walls stab into the shadows at the feet of each mage. The robes of each figure billow out and upward, lighting brilliantly from within before boiling away into nothing. The cries of the mages ricochet around the chamber, crossing each other and spawning further echoes until the stone vibrates with the cacophony of their death.

With a breathy inhalation, the sound and the darkness both are absorbed into the pulsing web of lines that mark the walls and floor of the underground room. Nothing is left of the five figures but their dying fire and their shadows, which still roil upon the floor, restless and abandoned.

Those shadows shred before your eyes, taking the vision with them.

>wear coil
You settle your copper coil around your neck.
>pull coil
You tug at your copper coil in an effort to loosen its grasp on your neck.
>rub coil
You rub a hand across your copper coil and its overlay of crimson lines flickers faintly in response.
>touch coil
You trace your fingers along the coil of copper at your neck.
>remove coil
You lift your copper coil from around your neck.
>pull coil
You tug on your copper coil, twisting it into a shape better suited for your wrist.
>wear coil
You wind your copper coil around your wrist.

And apparently they also change colour randomly on RUB but yet to see that on mine

All in all awesome!

[Augie]

I am looking to buy the Giantman and the Halfling earcuffs if anyone wins them and doesn't want them. I have items, silvers, premie points, and more to trade for them!

[bubbauno]

Song or Mirrors Gorget

Your voice resonates slightly against the gorget, causing vibrations in tune with your song. As your song synchronizes with the gorget, the metal begins to glow brightly. A faint image of a battlefield, and the bodies scattered in the bloody aftermath, comes into focus.

As you continue to focus your song on the gorget, the images begin to come clearer with each note sung. A raggedly dressed man picks through the corpses, moving from one to the next as he furtively pockets small items that he loots from them.

As you continue your melody, you see the raggedly dressed man searching the body of a young man in bright mail, with a broken lyre lying on the ground next to him. The raggedly dressed man starts to turn away in disappointment, until a sun gleaming off the bright gorget around the corpse's neck catches his attention. He removes it, and locks it around his own neck, hiding the brightly gleaming metal under his tattered hood.

The scene shifts, until you look down upon a dark alley in a dirty city. The tattered beggar is surrounded and at bay, young toughs with hard eyes and sharp steel on all sides. One young scoundrel sneaks up on the beggar quietly, and in a flash throws a thin wire around the raggedly dressed man's throat!

With a sudden crackle of elemental power, the assassin's arms are enveloped in a shroud of fire, and he goes down screaming. The raggedly dressed man stares in wonder as thieves flee into the darkness. He rubs the bright neck armor, then looks down at the assassin writhing in agony at his feet. His foot whips out in a vicious kick to the assassin's head, and the raggedly dressed man grins as he turns and heads for home.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Whimsical Wyrwood Short Bow

As soft notes slip past your lips, you close your eyes, and a sudden sense of vertigo overwhelms you. Pale evening light begins to grow before your mind's eye, and you see a village square. Half a dozen young elven children stand in a circle, surrounding a human child. The elves toss a ball back and forth to one another, deliberately avoiding the child in the center.

As you continue your melody, the image swirls, finally refocusing on the same children. It is night now, and the group of children approach a giant tree with dense leaves and a leaning trunk. The elven children are laughing, but a look of apprehension is on the face of the human child. You can almost feel the brisk night air as the elves begin to nudge the human toward the tree.

"Go on! Cut off a switch, or you shan't play with us again!" shouts one of the young elves. The small human boy whimpers as he is pushed closer and closer to the foreboding, tangled tree.

Unable to cease your musical lamentation, you continue to sing, watching the child left alone in the woods, tangled and frightened in the huge tree. Suddenly, his cries grow quiet, and his eyes fill with calmness. You notice a dagger in his hand, apparently intended to cut the switch ordered by the other children. With a look of determination beyond his young years, the human child begins to cut himself free. You feel yourself tremble as the image begins to fade.

Desperate to learn the fate of the child, you raise your voice and again offer your musical gift to the wyrwood short bow in return for its tale. The vision returns, but it is early morning now, and the human boy walks alone in the village square, cuts and scratches marring his arms and face. In his right hand is his dagger. In his left he carries a long branch of wyrwood. He sits on the vacant porch of a small house and begins to whittle at the branch with slow determination.

Images flash past quickly, the leaves on the village trees taking on autumn's hues. You see a group of half a dozen elven children playing in the square, laughing and playing with their ball. Movement behind a nearby tree catches your eye, and you notice a young human boy, moving with stealth as he draws back the string of a beautiful green bow.

Suddenly out of the trees flies a flash of red, hitting one of the elven boys hard enough to knock him senseless for a moment. The others stare at him before the red object flies back toward the trees with a snap! You hear gleeful snickering from behind a tree, and the leaves rustle as scampering footsteps fade into the woods.

[keder]

Thought I'd post the loresong of the coils to be found in the Barrow.

You missed one (at least, I didn't get another past this).

A heavy weight presses against your mind from all sides. Colors flash at the corners of your eyes, brilliant violet warring with scarlet, azure with a dark and pulsing viridian hue.

Images caper across your inner vision, none keeping still enough for careful examination. A child sneaks through a darkened tunnel, then cowers back with a thin cry of fear. Colorful threads fountain around him and his small form is reduced to nothing, leaving only a cringing shadow on the wall to mark that he ever existed.

Lurching, skeletal forms shuffle along twisting passages, lit by flickering torchlight and the crawling pulse of multicolored webs. White fire blooms to life in the sockets of a broken skull, then dies again.

Panicked cries and strident shouts are punctuated by the clank of tools and the rasp of stone on stone. A wall careens by, formed of freshly chiseled blocks and new mortar. Beyond it, voices are raised in fervent incantation.

The air ripples with chaotic magic, visibly eddying despite the muffling of earth and rock. The pressure on your mind builds and builds before it is suddenly released, not inward but outward, away from you. Still, the stone shudders and earth sifts down around you. Somewhere, something cracks.

Dust rides the air, drifting heavy on the floor and in the quiescent niches that line the underground corridor. The age of the place is tangible. Tiny scraping sounds along a half-crumbled gap in one wall herald the appearance of a pale rat streaked with dirt and rotten mortar. It twitches its discolored nose, sneezes once, then scurries off into the darkness.

The images trail off, growing grey and grainy as the initial pressure settles. Wan torchlight flickers to life as they fade, answered by a single spark of violet, and then there is nothing.

[Jolena]

Creepy stuff.

[Latrinsorm]

Thanks for the lists, Nilandia!! <3

[Danical]

Do those bow/gloves fire with a static 3 RT; +1 for aiming; +1 for sniping?

Knida like the WD bows.

[Askip]

My token win - some scorched leather breastplate

Vasteele says, "This lovely breastplate is a morphing piece of armor. It is currently slightly less than sixth enchant, somewhat crit padded, and change morph between all the hard leather ranges... from leather breastplate up to brigandine."

Vasteele says, "It will also change its look when it morphs, so no merchant will be able to detail it for you, and its color changes as well."

RUB cycles it through the hard leather AG - LBP, Cuir, Studded, Brig:

As you rub the surface of your breastplate, small motes of crimson light rise up from the surface and cover the leather breastplate in a swirling haze of color. After a few seconds, the light fades away, revealing a serious change in the armor's appearance. You're now holding some scorched cuirbouilli leather in your hands.

TAP changes adjectives:

scorched
dusty grey
dark grey
light blue
dark blue
dark green
sea green
dusty blue
pure white
ebon
deep black
ensigiled
sturdy
polished
bone white
amethyst
enruned

As you tap the surface of your breastplate, small motes of pale blue light rise up from the surface and cover the leather breastplate in a swirling haze of color. After a few seconds, the light fades away, revealing a small change to the armor's appearance. You're now holding some amethyst leather breastplate in your hands.

As you tap the surface of your breastplate, small motes of pale blue light rise up from the surface and cover the leather breastplate in a swirling haze of color. After a few seconds, the light fades away, revealing a small change to the armor's appearance. You're now holding some enruned leather breastplate in your hands.


I am pleased with it, I've been thinking about training the mage for LBP anyway. I definately feel I got my moneys worth, and two of my melee'ers are fighting over who wears it until the wizard has enough ranks.

[mgoddess]

Anyone have any info on the pins that summon spectral instruments? Can they only be used once, or can you dismiss the instrument and resummon it whenever you want?