Teeth, gnashing and gnawing, spiral out unbidden in the air like a vast hungry rose, no two exactly alike and ever moving. The expected cacophony of such constant grinding is however missing, in its place the unmistakable sound of children laughing pervades the enameled maelstrom, giggling in time with its arrhythmic twisting.
Just realized that I had these still. Sun fae descriptions:
The round face of this little fae is tanned a perfect honey gold, giving off a halo of light and energy. His body seems pale in comparison in its scrappy white clothes. The radiance surrounding his head shifts slowly, flickering brighter at a whim. Though the coronuli has no wings, his feet never seem to quite touch the ground. A flickering coronuli appears to be extraordinarily strong. He weighs 5 ounce(s). You cannot see what a flickering coronuli is holding. It has the following aliases: coronuli, fae.
A bright orange scarf is pulled across the face of this fae so that only her brilliant golden eyes are visible. Similarly, the rest of her is swathed in a mass of orange silk so that she could be of any shape or size. All that distinguishes her is the flaming hair, wreathing around her head in a bright red inferno that burns with a palpable heat that does not scorch her skin or clothes. A fiery nimbuli looks to be crushingly strong. She weighs 12 ounce(s). You cannot see what a fiery nimbuli is holding.
It has the following aliases: nimbuli, fae. The bare skin of this naked fae is burnt black all over. Small flakes of flesh slough away from his joints as he moves, though he seems not to feel the slightest amount of pain. His crimson eyes smoulder with an inner fire, and wisps of dark smoke escape his nostrils and from between his lips as he breathes. A smouldering embaruli exudes an aura of overwhelming power. He weighs about 30 pounds. You cannot see what a smouldering embaruli is holding. It has the following aliases: embaruli, fae, ashes.
Drocilla: She is a radiant immortal and is breathtaking to behold,
radiating a painfully sublime and gentle beauty that inexplicably
drains the vibrancy and colour from all else in the room. Shimmering
with an eerie effulgence, Her almond-shaped eyes are a cruel, sharp
lavender; sculpted with grey and violent shadows, they draw the onlooker
with their mystical allure. Her tawny skin is creamy and flawless - the
visage of utter beauty, elegance and perfection - and Her high
cheekbones are touched by the gentle shade of a rose. The glossy scarlet
red of Her lips stands out against these soft hues with a generous
fullness that makes them deliriously tempting. Every subtle movement of
Her perfectly poised figure exudes a raw confidence that dominates Her
surroundings, Her superlatively shaped jawline held with regal posture.
Intoxicating and addictive, an entrancing scent drifts in Her wake like a
cloak of perfumed silk. She is wearing a pair of knuckle rings, each
bearing a dangerous talon that extends past Her fingertips, a tenebrous
necklace of black nacre coins, a bewitching gown of lambent gold beading
and coruscating darkness and a twinkling sapphire cuff bracelet. Her
silken hair, a hundred shades of burnished gold, is pinned like a crown
of molten gold atop a visage of utter perfection. The thick, detailed
braids wrap about the head with nary a disobedient wisp in a polished
updo that wreathes Her face in a smouldering halo.
Milla the Peppermint Kitten: Long, pure white fur covers the
petite form of a young kitten. A unique blend crimson and light reds
flow randomly across the fur in swirling patterns. Her underbelly is
covered in a very pale pink fur that curves up into a heart-shape across
her chest. A light, thin pink band of fur encircles all four of her
paws. At the end of her long tail, her fur blends from white into pink
and then into a variety of shades of red. Various gleaming diamonds and
rubies have been entwined into the fur itself, making her tail
glitter each times it moves. Her face is covered in a shorter pure white
fur with just a single streak of red over one eye. Her eyes are large
and bright pink. Two white-furred ears twitch upon her head. When she
meows, tiny fangs can be seen, each gleaming white. Milla the Peppermint Kitten is a humble-looking creature. She weighs about 7 pounds. She is loyal to Vermilla.
Squawkbox: A slender rectangular prism of a dark metal alloy forms
the composition of this bizarre contraption. Thin sheets of the alloy
have been pounded together to form the sides, nearly invisible seams
further joined together by minute bolts that gleam brightly in
comparison to the remainder of the contraption. Thin, tensile bands of a
lighter alloy crisscross atop the device's face, forming an intricate
grid that protects the doubtless delicate inner workings of the
squawkbox. Upon the lower side of the piece, a small hemisphere of
perfectly clear crystal has been inlaid, glowing with a very faint
viridescent hue.
Raezon: He is a radiant immortal and a flickering aura of cerulean
flames glimmer about His presence. His gaunt form stands taller than
most mortals, unbowed by the ethereal raiment adorning His frame. Eyes
of blue steel send a piercing gaze from a countenance that has a quality
of calmness that shrouds what truly crosses His mind. A circlet holds
back jet black hair which falls weightless to his shoulders. Hanging
about His form is the scent of newly charged air after a lightning
strike. He is wearing ethereal robes of coruscating twilight, a circlet
of beaten silver.
Roark: He is a radiant immortal and stands with his head held
high. Long locks of obsidian hair flow over his broad back, contrasting
with his lightly tanned skin. He carries himself with an air of
self-confidence as though you can physically sense that he holds himself
in higher regard than anything else. A chaos butterfly is resting on
His shoulder. He is completely naked.
Carakhan, Pearl of the Ocean: She is a radiant immortal and
possessed of an otherworldly sophistication and grace in Her posture and
movements. She contemplates the world about Her with stormy, sea-green
eyes set above a rounded nose and dark green lips. Kelp-brown hair has
been gathered in elaborate braids about Her head while the rest has been
left to tumble till Her lower back in a thick, luxurious river of
silken threads. Her soft skin is a vibrant blue, a stark reminder of the
deep, tumultuous sea, and glistens with the mist that embraces her
refined physique. She is wearing a flowing ivory gown, a crown of gold
and coral and an effulgent string of freshwater pearls.
Altaira, the Star Deva: A feminine and elegant being, the Star
Deva is the spirit of the Star of Celest, her radiant and blessed form
as pure and constant as the light of the star high above the seaside
city. Pale and incandescent starlight has been used to form her body,
the vague impression a feminine form the only features she bears, aside
from two radiant and piercing azure eyes, the watery irises surrounding
pupils of brilliant gold. Her lithe arms and naked form are swathed in a
great shawl spun of fluid darkness, rippling liquidly about her limbs
and torso as it billows upon an unseen, cosmic breeze. A vast array of
starlit pinpricks dance across the liquid darkness, constantly changing
and shifting with the shawl's movement, the night time sky flowing
elegantly about her in an endless flow, the shawl itself appearing to
have no beginning nor end, flowing and rippling in eternal currents that
lazily pour down her form in long ribbons, pooling and slowly churning
about her, holding her aloft. From her back arches the only constant,
definable portion of her form, two sets of angelic wings of the purest
alabaster feathers, their tips brushed with the softest of light blues,
one pair reaching from her shoulder blades, another farther down from
her back, themselves free of her swirling shroud of starry darkness. In a
radiant cascade of light, long strands of hair pour down her back - an empyreal
fall of liquid starlight when viewed from afar, yet, up close, each
strand bears a pink, white, topaz and cobalt hue, blending together to
loose a celestial glow. Altaira, the Star Deva almost glows with nearly god-like power. She is strangely weightless.
Azbir Farric: Surrounded by a glowing miasma for darkness, the imposing figure of
Azbir Farric, the Living Armour King looms here, his glowing eyes fixed
on you. "azbir187802" Azbir Farric, the Living Armour King Glowing
orbs of pure darkness glare out from behind the horned helm of this
imposing figure, dark, stygian energy leaking from each as his gaze
sears about the area. Brought to life by an unknown source of power,
this once dwarven king stands taller than your average dwarf, his
colossal body covered with blackened armour, his massive shoulders
covered with piercing spikes which support thick arms that wield twin
serrated klangaxes. Azbir Farric, the Living Armour King does not even register your presence as a threat. He weighs about 225 pounds. You cannot see what Azbir Farric, the Living Armour King is holding.
Spectral quartet that was at the showing of The Good Daughter (and the Bloodfaire, I've heard.)
Room desc: The spectral effigies of an unearthly quartet can be made out as they undulate with an aurora of ghoulish hues.
p quartet Immaterial
effigies of a quartet hang in the air, spectral instruments in hand.
Their attire can scarcely be made out except to say with certainty there
is an air of sophistication to it. A ghoulish aurora makes up their
bodies, shifting from one eerie hue to the next - jades, sickly greens, a
smattering of grey, and a touch of incandescent violet. It weighs 10 ounce(s). It has the following aliases: quartet.
Flames erupt from the caldera below as a distorted voice echoes, "Their spirit must be broken if they wish to be reborn as true warriors."
With a crazed glee, a smouldering embaruli pirouettes in the air, tiny flames guttering wildly around him.
The blackened, smouldering form of an embaruli stands here.
The bare skin of this naked fae is burnt black all over. Small flakes of flesh slough away from his joints as he moves, though he seems not to feel the slightest amount of pain. His crimson eyes smoulder with an inner fire, and wisps of dark smoke escape his nostrils and from between his lips as he breathes. A smouldering embaruli looks to be crushingly strong. He weighs about 30 pounds. You cannot see what a smouldering embaruli is holding. It has the following aliases: embaruli, fae, ashes.
Flames erupt from the caldera below as a distorted voice echoes, "Their spirit must be broken if they wish to be reborn as true warriors."
Caught in constant motion, a flickering coronuli floats above the ground.
The round face of this little fae is tanned a perfect honey gold, giving off a halo of light and energy. His body seems pale in comparison in its scrappy white clothes. The radiance surrounding his head shifts slowly, flickering brighter at a whim. Though the coronuli has no wings, his feet never seem to quite touch the ground. A flickering coronuli appears to be extraordinarily strong. He weighs 5 ounce(s). You cannot see what a flickering coronuli is holding. It has the following aliases: coronuli, fae.
Flames erupt from the caldera below as a distorted voice echoes, "Their spirit must be broken if they wish to be reborn as true warriors."
Wreathed in ethereal flames, a nimbuli crouches here.
Bright orange flames crowd a fiery nimbuli in an aura of hungry fire as she pounces at you.
A bright orange scarf is pulled across the face of this fae so that only her brilliant golden eyes are visible. Similarly, the rest of her is swathed in a mass of orange silk so that she could be of any shape or size. All that distinguishes her is the flaming hair, wreathing around her head in a bright red inferno that burns with a palpable heat that does not scorch her skin or clothes. A fiery nimbuli looks to be crushingly strong. She weighs 12 ounce(s). You cannot see what a fiery nimbuli is holding. It has the following aliases: nimbuli, fae.
Flames erupt from the caldera below as a distorted voice echoes, "Their spirit must be broken if they wish to be reborn as true warriors."
A halo of light suffusing his stoic visage, Mraxin, the Perihelion stands clutching a cudgel of bleached bone.
Old in appearance though not in body, Mraxin is an aslaran man who has seen much in his lifetime, evidenced by the sparse grey fur around his eyes, nose, and lips. His tawny fur is likewise sprinkled with the salt-and-pepper strands, though this does little to detract from the lithe figure that still remains. Twisted into long braids, his thick mane flows from all around his head, knotted with bone beads and held together in a thick ponytail behind him by a leather thong. Around his waist is a war skirt of painted skins, synched by a simple hemp belt that bares ecological tools: a metallic charm, a bone fetish, and an accompaniment of smudges. In his paws, the man wields a cudgel carved from sun-bleached bone, which matches the armband around his right wrist that is patterned with a circle surrounded by triangles. His violent eyes pierce everything around him, having not lost their sharpness in his old age. Mraxin, the Perihelion exudes an aura of overwhelming power. He weighs about 252 pounds. He has a moderate weakness to fire damage. He has a slight resistance to cold damage. You cannot see what Mraxin, the Perihelion is holding. It has the following aliases: mraxin, aslaran, keeper.
Flames erupt from the caldera below as a distorted voice echoes, "Their spirit must be broken if they wish to be reborn as true warriors."
Towering high as one would expect of a taurian, Turiki is as broad and well-muscled as the hardiest of warriors. Every inch of her tawny body has been covered, painstakingly, with intricate tattoos of solar patterns - the ink barely a shade lighter than her smooth skin, and creating an almost textured look where it crosses over her many battle scars. Thick horns as golden as the dawn's light surge forth from just inside her hairline, bending perpendicular to her skull and extending back several inches; haphazard, glossy black locks surround them and fall into her eyes, the bulk of her hair extending down to her chin. There is a striking depth in her narrow eyes, which are a brown so dark as to almost be black, and frame an unfortunately gnarled nose. Turiki, Guardian of the Aphelion has an air of extreme strength. She weighs about 327 pounds. She has a moderate resistance to cutting damage. She has a slight weakness to magic damage. You cannot see what Turiki, Guardian of the Aphelion is holding. It has the following aliases: turiki, guardian, taurian.
Limned in a blaze of sunlight, Sidwesh is a young aslaran man that is leonine in appearance and lithe in form. Dark fur delinates his eyes, nose, and lips, while his pelt is overall blonde in colour and coarse in texture; a thick mane of similar colour frames the sides, bottom, and top of his head like a veil or turban. Blinking beneath a wide forehead, sharp eyes of pale amber constantly upturn toward the heavens above. The rest of his face is rather severe - his muzzle dark and forced into a grim, serious line. He grips a cudgel of dark wood in one of his paws, while the other holds a thin book carved from sun-bleached bone. Peeking out underneath his loose-fitting robes of woven fabric, a tense tail sweeps the ground: its length strung with bangles and bands that gently click together as the limb moves. Sidwesh, the Welcoming Dawn has an air of extreme strength. He weighs about 249 pounds. He has a moderate weakness to fire damage. He has a slight resistance to cold damage. You cannot see what Sidwesh, the Welcoming Dawn is holding. It has the following aliases: sidwesh, aslaran. She has a moderate resistance to electrical damage.
Rather bulbous and old-looking, the tree's small size is the only thing that indicates it as a sapling sunpride baobab, the sacred tree of Jojobo. In fact, it could easily be mistaken for the root of the tree itself, growing upside down for some peculiar reason with its thick trunk that tapers to wispy, finger like branches. The bark is knotted and grey, unattractively plain and marked by horizontal grooves that ring around its tuber-like architecture. Challenging the dismal appearance of the tree are the sapling's leaves, which are a rich gold in colour with hints of russet and more vivid red; they possess a velvety texture and are shaped like miniature pawprints. A sunpride sapling looks weak and feeble.
Significantly larger than it once was as a scrappy sapling, this mature sunpride tree is exceptionally large and wide; at least an arm's length in width, the thick trunk is riddled with grooves and furrows, and the grey bark has taken a more desiccated expression. Where it flares at the base, the tree begins to taper further toward its branches, which gives it the appearance of a taproot more than the average tree. The branches are finer still like veins, their rhizomatic arcs spreading wide to soak up the sun with its velvety, golden leaves. A mature sunpride tree looks weak and feeble.
Breaking at least a hundred feet into the air, the tuberous trunk of this sunpride tree nonetheless tapers into thinner branches which themselves divide in an exponentially wide cover; indeed, the branches crisscross and ensnare between each other, forming a thick canopy that blots out the light below and provides the best surface cover for the tree to survive. Its grey, groove-broken bark pales in spectacularity to the golden, velvet leaves of the arbor, which subtly move as breezes pass through it, evoking the image of a burning bush. At the flared base, the roots have finally broken through the ground, snaking their way through the soil in search for moisture and nutrients. From the tree, a heady scent emanates: rich and spicy. An enormous sunpride tree looks weak and feeble.
The pinnacle of age, this elder sunpride tree stretches its branches high and wide into the sky while doing the same with its roots below. The trunk, once tuberous and tapered has finished its growth - becoming bottle-like in shape where it flutes at both ends; the bark too has matured, the furrows lessening into a supple skin marked with the occasional knot or burl, still grey though tinged with a remark of red. Overhead, the thousands of branches spread in vein-like knotwork, rife with the golden, paw-print leaves characteristic of its species; amongst these shining blooms are strange creamy flowers that burst with delicate spines. A humid breeze clings to the tree, warm and thick from some distant jungle, and carries with it the mellow aroma of chile, chocolate, and soil.
Like a miniature sun, this bit of solar essence manifests as a tiny orb of intense, unyielding light that hovers in the air gracefully. Intermittent flashes change its pale yellow colouration from stark white to burnished gold - lucent rays flashing outward as it does so which dissipate soon after.
Combusting with an audible pop, this bit of coronal essence appears like a tiny, encapsulated, and angry flame that flares and seethes with a fiery light. A noticeable nimbus surrounds this small orb, a halo of heat and flame that engenders everything around it in a warm glow.
Firmer in shape and density, this bit of helical essence looks more like a small, still-lit ember that floats through the air, occasionally sparking when an errant breeze billows by. As swirls weightlessly, it is clear that it is following a circular pattern - an orbit - where it revolves around some absent central point.
The purpose of writing is to inflate weak ideas, obscure pure reasoning, and inhibit clarity. With a little practice, writing can be an intimidating and impenetrable fog!
Mraxin, the Perihelion raises his arms and hums deeply the note of the forest, which reverberates through the air like a lion's roar. Strange but radiant trees crowd the air above in shards of light, their boughs releasing a choking cloud of humidity.
Environment:
Dazzling in its aureate brillance, a shimmering reflection of a strange jungle chokes the air with humidity.
The pinnacle of age, this elder sunpride tree stretches its branches high and wide into the sky while doing the same with its roots below. The trunk, once tuberous and tapered has finished its growth - becoming bottle-like in shape where it flutes at both ends; the bark too has matured, the furrows lessening into a supple skin marked with the occasional knot or burl, still grey though tinged with a remark of red. Overhead, the thousands of branches spread in vein-like knotwork, rife with the golden, paw-print leaves characteristic of its species; amongst these shining blooms are strange creamy flowers that burst with delicate spines. A humid breeze clings to the tree, warm and thick from some distant jungle, and carries with it the mellow aroma of chile, chocolate, and soil.
Sooooooo... can we harvest chocolate from our visitor?
He is a radiant immortal and large and gentle. His large, bald head features two large yellow eyes, a big smile, and a wide button nose which hides within his face. Six dots make two lines upon the crown of His head which are coloured purple, yellow, orange, blue, green and red respectively. Above and below his eyes are thick black and white tattooed markings which exaggerate His every emotion. His rotund and soft torso pulses with a soothing, soft, cosmic light, hiding the joints which connect His neck, shoulders and hips. His surprisingly flexible thick legs appear as marble pillars which are roughly half as long as His dexterous, enormous, soft, yielding arms. He is wearing simple robes and a thick necklace with an open hand of abanoi pendant.
You look at a thick necklace with an open hand of abanoi pendant that Weiwae is wearing: This beautiful diamond necklace has been delicately crafted from a number of well cut stones. Set into platinum holders, the large white jewels catch the light with an impressive display of colour.
You look at simple robes that Weiwae is wearing: These robes are made of pure white cloth made of a divine material. Wide sleeves allow for items to be stored within, and the robes drape around the ankles, billowing around the wearer.
Flames erupt from the caldera below as a distorted voice echoes, "Their spirit must be broken if they wish to be reborn as true warriors."
He is a radiant immortal and large and gentle. His large, bald head features two large yellow eyes, a big smile, and a wide button nose which hides within his face. Six dots make two lines upon the crown of His head which are coloured purple, yellow, orange, blue, green and red respectively. Above and below his eyes are thick black and white tattooed markings which exaggerate His every emotion. His rotund and soft torso pulses with a soothing, soft, cosmic light, hiding the joints which connect His neck, shoulders and hips. His surprisingly flexible thick legs appear as marble pillars which are roughly half as long as His dexterous, enormous, soft, yielding arms. He is wearing simple robes and a thick necklace with an open hand of abanoi pendant.
You look at a thick necklace with an open hand of abanoi pendant that Weiwae is wearing: Crafted from various gems and metals, this necklace is a thick golden chain with a small pendant attached. The pendant is a rectangle made of two halves split evenly down the centre - one side jade, the other ruby. An image of an open palm with two opposing thumbs lies at the centre of the rectangle. In the centre of the palm is a finely crafted amethyst open eye upon a field of orange painted copper. In the tip of the middle finger is a golden stylised sun and stars etched upon a sapphire background. Running between the gaps of the three fingers are two halves of an intricate golden heart. On either side of the heart are reverse symmetrical golden inlaid designs of water flowing over a pyramid of six stones, one facing up, the other down
You look at simple robes that Weiwae is wearing: These robes are made of pure white cloth made of a divine material. Wide sleeves allow for items to be stored within, and the robes drape around the ankles, billowing around the wearer.
Flames licking at his bare feet, a Hunter of the Shorn Corona stalks in pursuit of his distant prey.
Slender in figure but fearsome in presence, the Hunter of the Shorn Corona moves with the predatory grace of a jungle cat. Except for his face, not much of his bronzed skin can be seen as he is covered in the spotted and striped hides of various felines. These furs gird his arms, legs and chest altogether: stitched like a second skin that follows the contours of his lean musculature to gift him near-perfect camouflage. What was once a full head of dark hair has been shorn to a mohawk war-braid that travels down his back as if it were a tail. Held in both of his hands are peculiar weapons: wooden swords studded with obsidian teeth, the perfect tool to saw through flesh; these vicious instruments are accompanied by belts of knives around his arms and legs. Completely barefoot, fire licks at the Hunter's feet, lending him a fiery presence that is reflected in his two searing, crimson eyes.
Of course, now it just looks like this :
Burnt-out like old charcoal, the smouldering remains of a Hunter of the Shorn Corona lie here in a heap.
Avurekhos says, "Dylara's a PvP menace in my eyes, totes rekting face."
The eye of Dylara materialises in your hands and flings itself around your neck, tightening incomprehensibly until it is irremovable. Perfectly clean, this eyeball has been wrenched from the socket of Dylara. It has been animated by some unusual force, constantly looking around itself as if in shock or fear. It is bathed in a light covering of white flames that roll endlessly over its surface. A single chain of empyreal metal pierces either side of the eye, allowing it to be worn around the neck.
A hazy, translucent bug flits from place to place, the world ripping and cracking
around its body to reveal fragments of shattered creation.
An undulating, translucent bug flits forward suddenly and passes straight
through you.
The world itself splinters and cracks around the jagged body of this peculiar insect, no more than an inch in length. Its segmented, chitinous body is thickly covered with miniscule spines that snag and shear the threads of this plane. Through the translucency of its thorax you can see into the cavernous depths of the inner world, and catch glimpses of a thousand menacing eyes staring back.
An undulating, translucent bug is quite powerful.
He is strangely weightless.
You cannot see what an undulating, translucent bug is holding.
It has the following aliases: bug.
A small, translucent bug lies squished upon the floor, cracked open and oozing black.
He is strangely weightless.
The corpse of an undulating, translucent bug is holding:
Nothing.
It has the following aliases: bug.
Zarialle's first dance:
Trader Bob leads Zarialle through the dancers to the dance floor and brings her all the way to its heart.
The Kiss of the Enchantress lies discarded in a corner, amethyst fog swirling seductively around it.
You begin to wield Kiss of the Enchantress in your hands. As you wield Kiss of the Enchantress in your hands, tendrils of amethyst fog creep forth from the chain as if having a life of their own, spreading over your body. The fog continues to spread like a blanket, until it finally leaves you enclosed within a comforting shroud, giving a feeling like the Enchantress Herself were standing right behind you.
The links of this jakari chain have been painstakingly carved from pieces of flawless amethyst; each link has been enchanted to generate a deep amethyst-hued fog. Numerous barbs have been fused to each link, fashioned to look like a rose thorn, the tip of each barb being sharp enough to strip skin and rend flesh from bone. Weighing down one end of the chain, pieces of ruby and amethyst have been carved and fitted together in the shape of a roaring flame; each facet catches the light and refracts it within, to make the flame seem to hold a life of its own. The other end is weighted with a large piece of onyx that has been worked into the form of a nightingale darker than midnight itself, two sapphires set into the head give the bird an unnervingly piercing gaze.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- aaand the new statue in Drocilla's fulcrux:
Delicately curving lines of translucent crystal trace the figure of a lithe viscanti maiden immortalised in a resolute pose. An icy expression is embedded upon her focused face, be it through the sharpness of the medium or intention, only further enhanced by a stern hairdo of coiling tight braids encircling a head bearing regal horns. Diminutive wings rise from her back, their unique beauty rendered in the crystal faithfully, while her form is clad in a lace-trimmed gown, the icy-blue crystal blushing with lavender hues to mimic a vespertine fabric. Both arms hang loosely by her sides, bejewelled hands balled in either anticipation or eagerness.
Kiss of the Enchantress hisses eerily, "Let them fear, and despair."
Has anyone got a description of the Viramother's gown/cloak/scythe etc.?
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
Nobody witnessed horrible golem Daraius before the skinrot was cured so I place him here in memoriam.
He is a ferocious loboshigaru and stands statuesque, a stoic vision in stone locked beneath a pebbly carapace. The canine shape of his skull remains evident even under the gravelly pustules populating his jaw and cheekbones, and his triangular ears stand rigidly attentive despite his left apparently having broken in half. Dull grey eyes as expressive as weather-worn stone perch atop a crusty canid muzzle, his whiskers now but shattered stubs below a dry, leathery nose. Sparse tufts of beryl hued fur sprout from parched skin like withered wildgrass clinging to life amid a desolate, arid landscape. His every movement is slow and mechanical, suggesting not the control and precision of a martial artist, but a labored and concerted effort to move at all, each strained tug of muscle or shift of skin precursor to a brief avalanche of unsettled sandy fragments. Behind him hangs a spindly vestigial cord of rocky vertebrae, the naked, lifeless remnant of his tail. Scarcely visible, and only under the closest scrutiny, a faint white effulgence seems to flicker within the fine, labyrinthine fissures that course across his skin, the last subtle vestige of a serene warmth now encrusted in shale. Flecks of ash drift in weightless orbit about his form.
Truly enormous in size, this colossal centipede is unlike any found within the Basin of Life, reaching almost two metres in length from scalloped head to skittering backside. Its flamboyant, red exoskeleton shines with a gradient of fiery hues, edged elegantly in black like the painted nails of a noblewoman or the burnished hide of a dragon. Raising the insect to a significant height, its thin, segmented legs are a startling yellow colour; they taper to thin points which seem to ceaselessly elicit a clinking sound as the creature slithers across the ground. Two of these legs protrude from its head, just beneath the centipede's simple eyes and curled antennae, and terminate in sharp claws that drip with venom. A Jojoban sunsting centipede has an air of extreme strength. He weighs about 142 pounds. He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a Jojoban sunsting centipede is holding. It has the following aliases: centipede, sunsting.
As beautiful as it is deadly, the gold-legged fatespinner spider is quite large in size, spanning the width of two outstretched hands. Its cephalothorax and the beginning of its bulbous abdomen are distinctively white, which yields to a speckled red, yellow and black hues that looks as if it were carelessly splattered by a fickle artist. Eight, tapered legs poke out from its darker underside and cling dearly to the sticky, ebon silk web that the arachnid has made; it is these legs, of course, which gives the spider its name, for they are burnished gold like a set of knitting needles, which offers a stark contrast to the black webbing. From the spider's spinnerets, more silk still is made: globules of some dark fluid becoming solid, firm silk that gives the creature leverage and manoeuvrability. Two sets of fangs twitch below the spider's eight beady eyes, chittering with hunger. A gold-legged fatespinner spider looks to be crushingly strong. He weighs about 95 pounds. He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a gold-legged fatespinner spider is holding. It has the following aliases: spider, fatespinner.
Leaner in shape than when it was a grab, this larva is an arm's length in size and bustles to and from with slender, stem-like legs. This slenderness in shape is noticeable through its segmented thorax and abdomen, synched together with the small sheathe of hardened shell; the carapace, in fact, covers most of the insect's body with the reticulated interlacing of scales, each one shining like chips of obsidian or onyx even when dulled by the grime and dirt of the jungle floor. Below, the soft underbelly of the larva is pitch-black in hue, though it is sprinkled with flecks of paler grey and slate. While the posterior still discharges a sizzling trail of slime, the head of the insect is more defined: a maw filled with sharper teeth, protected by a flaring pair of mandibles. A ravenous, scuttling larva appears to be extraordinarily strong. He weighs about 1 pounds and 9 ounce(s). He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a ravenous, scuttling larva is holding. It has the following aliases: larva.
Dark plates of hardened shell encase the entirety of this wide-girthed insect, whose true nature is hidden because of the blackened carapace; speckles of pale grey and ghostly markings swirl across the pupa's casing, which gifts it a smoky quality that offers suitable camouflage amongst the shadows of the jungle floor. Protruding from all directions are jagged spikes that jut out from the plated pod, sharp like thorns and curved just the same. Where once would have been a soft underbelly is now a firm surface; however, strangely, thin yet sturdy legs poke out and give the exarate tumbler a semblance of mobility: an awkward gait that sways in zigzags. From within, the soft murmur of growth can be discerned, which persists as an annoying whine or buzz. Am ambular, ghostly-speckled pupa looks to be crushingly strong. He weighs about 3 pounds and 2 ounce(s). He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what am ambular, ghostly-speckled pupa is holding. It has the following aliases: pupa.
Truly enormous in size, the shadegeist mosquito spans a fathom in length from the immensity of its slender legs alone; its darkly-translucent wings too are great and long, taking up half of its size as they constantly beat to keep the insect effortlessly soaring through the air. Both its thorax and abdomen are dark: a black backdrop that is streaked with lighter patterns in smoke-grey and slate. The only other hint of colour that breaks this relatively monochrome affair is the bright crimson of the mosquito's compound eyes, which seem to stare at the world with little sense of fixation. Of most notable concern is the insect's great proboscis that, like a stiletto unsheathed, tapers to a fine, barb-like point useful for procuring the blood of its victims. A constant, grating buzz or whine emanates from the mosquito, heralding its presence even amongst the gloom of the jungle. A giant shadegeist mosquito exudes an aura of overwhelming power. He weighs about 8 pounds. He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a giant shadegeist mosquito is holding. It has the following aliases: mosquito, shadegeist.
More like a blob of flesh than a proper insect, this dark-coloured grub frantically squirms in the vain hope of escaping more cunning predators. However, it is slow-moving in this regard, as its stem- thin legs can barely uphold its fat, bulbous body which is riddled with the subtle reticulations of veins. The ebon skin is utterly opaque with a subtle creaminess to its appearance; it offers little protection from teeth or claw, but it does give a meager camouflage as the grub shuffles from shadow to shadow. Spewing from one of the bug's blunt ends a long trail of slime that sizzles gently as the creature carves a path through the jungle. A jet-black jungle grub seems strong and confident. He weighs about 1 pounds and 2 ounce(s). He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a jet-black jungle grub is holding. It has the following aliases: grub.
Significantly larger than the average ant, the lion ant travels on six, segmented legs that heft its chitinous frame a good hand or two in height. Black from mandibles to stinger, the insect's thorax and abdomen are sleek and gleam like plate armour; the only pop of colour comes from its multi- faceted eyes of red-hot crimson that fixate wildly below a pair of thin, reedy antennae. The cruel barb of a stinger juts out from behind the ant, dripping poison on occasion which sizzles in a trail behind it. A strong-jawed lion ant looks to be crushingly strong. He weighs about 159 pounds. He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a strong-jawed lion ant is holding. It has the following aliases: ant, lionant.
The apple is cold, crisp, and sour as the juices fill your mouth. As you consume the fruit, you glimpse, for a moment, a massive, shadowy figure, Her snow-white hair framing a perfect, icy-eyed visage. Beneath you, a vast, perfect web of silken strands lies - and, for a moment, you realize that you too are part of it, weaver and strand both - and home.
Has anyone done anything calling attention to a limbal ring?
0
EveriineWise Old Swordsbird / BrontaurIndianapolis, IN, USA
Always good to update the description now and then.
He is a feathered trill and looks like an old, wise bird. Healed scars from battles fought long ago cross the bronze skin of his tall, lithe body suited for flying that is in decent shape for its age, though it lacks the definition of a seasoned warrior and bears quite a few more wrinkles. A cloak of silver feathers tipped in blue covers the two great broad wings that sprout from his back, and similar feathers crown his head with a magnificent, stately crest. Beads and feathered charms woven into the crest, old tribal tokens and ritual fetishes, clink together with every movement. Completing his bird-like appearance are eyes like emeralds that sit slightly recessed on either side of a hawkish nose, and a slight frown pulls on the corners of his mouth.
Everiine is a man, and is very manly. This MAN before you is so manly you might as well just gender bend right now, cause he's the manliest man that you ever did see. His manly shape has spurned many women and girlyer men to boughs of fainting. He stands before you in a manly manerific typical man-like outfit which is covered in his manly motto: "I am a man!"
Daraius said: You gotta risk it for the biscuit.
Pony power all the way, yo. The more Brontaurs the better.
Viravain, Lady of the Thorns shouts, "And You would seize Me? Fool! I am the Glomdoring! I am the Wyrd, and beneath the cloak of Night, the shadows of the Silent stir!"
Comments
The round face of this little fae is tanned a perfect honey gold, giving off a halo of light and
energy. His body seems pale in comparison in its scrappy white clothes. The radiance surrounding his
head shifts slowly, flickering brighter at a whim. Though the coronuli has no wings, his feet never
seem to quite touch the ground.
A flickering coronuli appears to be extraordinarily strong.
He weighs 5 ounce(s).
You cannot see what a flickering coronuli is holding.
It has the following aliases: coronuli, fae.
A bright orange scarf is pulled across the face of this fae so that only her brilliant golden eyes
are visible. Similarly, the rest of her is swathed in a mass of orange silk so that she could be of
any shape or size. All that distinguishes her is the flaming hair, wreathing around her head in a
bright red inferno that burns with a palpable heat that does not scorch her skin or clothes.
A fiery nimbuli looks to be crushingly strong.
She weighs 12 ounce(s).
You cannot see what a fiery nimbuli is holding.
It has the following aliases: nimbuli, fae.
The bare skin of this naked fae is burnt black all over. Small flakes of flesh slough away from his
joints as he moves, though he seems not to feel the slightest amount of pain. His crimson eyes
smoulder with an inner fire, and wisps of dark smoke escape his nostrils and from between his lips
as he breathes.
A smouldering embaruli exudes an aura of overwhelming power.
He weighs about 30 pounds.
You cannot see what a smouldering embaruli is holding.
It has the following aliases: embaruli, fae, ashes.
Drocilla:
She is a radiant immortal and is breathtaking to behold, radiating a painfully sublime and gentle beauty that inexplicably drains the vibrancy and colour from all else in the room. Shimmering with an eerie effulgence, Her almond-shaped eyes are a cruel, sharp lavender; sculpted with grey and violent shadows, they draw the onlooker with their mystical allure. Her tawny skin is creamy and flawless - the visage of utter beauty, elegance and perfection - and Her high cheekbones are touched by the gentle shade of a rose. The glossy scarlet red of Her lips stands out against these soft hues with a generous fullness that makes them deliriously tempting. Every subtle movement of Her perfectly poised figure exudes a raw confidence that dominates Her surroundings, Her superlatively shaped jawline held with regal posture. Intoxicating and addictive, an entrancing scent drifts in Her wake like a cloak of perfumed silk. She is wearing a pair of knuckle rings, each bearing a dangerous talon that extends past Her fingertips, a tenebrous necklace of black nacre coins, a bewitching gown of lambent gold beading and coruscating darkness and a twinkling sapphire cuff bracelet.
Her silken hair, a hundred shades of burnished gold, is pinned like a crown of molten gold atop a visage of utter perfection. The thick, detailed braids wrap about the head with nary a disobedient wisp in a polished updo that wreathes Her face in a smouldering halo.
Milla the Peppermint Kitten:
Long, pure white fur covers the petite form of a young kitten. A unique blend crimson and light reds flow randomly across the fur in swirling patterns. Her underbelly is covered in a very pale pink fur that curves up into a heart-shape across her chest. A light, thin pink band of fur encircles all four of her paws. At the end of her long tail, her fur blends from white into pink and then into a variety of shades of red. Various gleaming diamonds and rubies have been entwined into the fur
itself, making her tail glitter each times it moves. Her face is covered in a shorter pure white fur with just a single streak of red over one eye. Her eyes are large and bright pink. Two white-furred ears twitch upon her head. When she meows, tiny fangs can be seen, each gleaming white.
Milla the Peppermint Kitten is a humble-looking creature.
She weighs about 7 pounds.
She is loyal to Vermilla.
Squawkbox:
A slender rectangular prism of a dark metal alloy forms the composition of this bizarre contraption. Thin sheets of the alloy have been pounded together to form the sides, nearly invisible seams further joined together by minute bolts that gleam brightly in comparison to the remainder of the contraption. Thin, tensile bands of a lighter alloy crisscross atop the device's face, forming an intricate grid that protects the doubtless delicate inner workings of the squawkbox. Upon the lower side of the piece, a small hemisphere of perfectly clear crystal has been inlaid, glowing with a very faint viridescent hue.
Raezon:
He is a radiant immortal and a flickering aura of cerulean flames glimmer about His presence. His gaunt form stands taller than most mortals, unbowed by the ethereal raiment adorning His frame. Eyes of blue steel send a piercing gaze from a countenance that has a quality of calmness that shrouds what truly crosses His mind. A circlet holds back jet black hair which falls weightless to his shoulders. Hanging about His form is the scent of newly charged air after a lightning strike. He is wearing ethereal robes of coruscating twilight, a circlet of beaten silver.
Roark:
He is a radiant immortal and stands with his head held high. Long locks of obsidian hair flow over his broad back, contrasting with his lightly tanned skin. He carries himself with an air of self-confidence as though you can physically sense that he holds himself in higher regard than anything else. A chaos butterfly is resting on His shoulder. He is completely naked.
Carakhan, Pearl of the Ocean:
She is a radiant immortal and possessed of an otherworldly sophistication and grace in Her posture and movements. She contemplates the world about Her with stormy, sea-green eyes set above a rounded nose and dark green lips. Kelp-brown hair has been gathered in elaborate braids about Her head while the rest has been left to tumble till Her lower back in a thick, luxurious river of silken threads. Her soft skin is a vibrant blue, a stark reminder of the deep, tumultuous sea, and glistens with the mist that embraces her refined physique. She is wearing a flowing ivory gown, a crown of gold and coral and an effulgent string of freshwater pearls.
Altaira, the Star Deva:
A feminine and elegant being, the Star Deva is the spirit of the Star of Celest, her radiant and blessed form as pure and constant as the light of the star high above the seaside city. Pale and incandescent starlight has been used to form her body, the vague impression a feminine form the only features she bears, aside from two radiant and piercing azure eyes, the watery irises surrounding pupils of brilliant gold. Her lithe arms and naked form are swathed in a great shawl spun of fluid darkness, rippling liquidly about her limbs and torso as it billows upon an unseen, cosmic breeze. A vast array of starlit pinpricks dance across the liquid darkness, constantly changing and shifting with the shawl's movement, the night time sky flowing elegantly about her in an endless flow, the shawl itself appearing to have no beginning nor end, flowing and rippling in eternal currents that lazily pour down her form in long ribbons, pooling and slowly churning about her, holding her aloft. From her back arches the only constant, definable portion of her form, two sets of angelic wings of the purest alabaster feathers, their tips brushed with the softest of light blues, one pair reaching from her shoulder blades, another farther down from her back, themselves free of her swirling shroud of starry darkness. In a radiant cascade of light, long strands of hair pour down her back - an
empyreal fall of liquid starlight when viewed from afar, yet, up close, each strand bears a pink, white, topaz and cobalt hue, blending together to loose a celestial glow.
Altaira, the Star Deva almost glows with nearly god-like power.
She is strangely weightless.
Azbir Farric:
Surrounded by a glowing miasma for darkness, the imposing figure of Azbir Farric, the Living Armour King looms here, his glowing eyes fixed on you.
"azbir187802" Azbir Farric, the Living Armour King
Glowing orbs of pure darkness glare out from behind the horned helm of this imposing figure, dark, stygian energy leaking from each as his gaze sears about the area. Brought to life by an unknown source of power, this once dwarven king stands taller than your average dwarf, his colossal body covered with blackened armour, his massive shoulders covered with piercing spikes which support thick arms that wield twin serrated klangaxes.
Azbir Farric, the Living Armour King does not even register your presence as a threat.
He weighs about 225 pounds.
You cannot see what Azbir Farric, the Living Armour King is holding.
Spectral quartet that was at the showing of The Good Daughter (and the Bloodfaire, I've heard.)
Room desc: The spectral effigies of an unearthly quartet can be made out as they undulate with an aurora of ghoulish hues.
p quartet
Immaterial effigies of a quartet hang in the air, spectral instruments in hand. Their attire can scarcely be made out except to say with certainty there is an air of sophistication to it. A ghoulish aurora makes up their bodies, shifting from one eerie hue to the next - jades, sickly greens, a smattering of grey, and a touch of incandescent violet.
It weighs 10 ounce(s).
It has the following aliases: quartet.
The blackened, smouldering form of an embaruli stands here.
The bare skin of this naked fae is burnt black all over. Small flakes of flesh slough away from his joints as he moves, though he seems not to feel the slightest amount of pain. His crimson eyes smoulder with an inner fire, and wisps of dark smoke escape his nostrils and from between his lips as he breathes.
A smouldering embaruli looks to be crushingly strong.
He weighs about 30 pounds.
You cannot see what a smouldering embaruli is holding.
It has the following aliases: embaruli, fae, ashes.
The round face of this little fae is tanned a perfect honey gold, giving off a halo of light and energy. His body seems pale in comparison in its scrappy white clothes. The radiance surrounding his head shifts slowly, flickering brighter at a whim. Though the coronuli has no wings, his feet never seem to quite touch the ground.
A flickering coronuli appears to be extraordinarily strong.
He weighs 5 ounce(s).
You cannot see what a flickering coronuli is holding.
It has the following aliases: coronuli, fae.
Bright orange flames crowd a fiery nimbuli in an aura of hungry fire as she pounces at you.
A bright orange scarf is pulled across the face of this fae so that only her brilliant golden eyes are visible. Similarly, the rest of her is swathed in a mass of orange silk so that she could be of any shape or size. All that distinguishes her is the flaming hair, wreathing around her head in a bright red inferno that burns with a palpable heat that does not scorch her skin or clothes.
A fiery nimbuli looks to be crushingly strong.
She weighs 12 ounce(s).
You cannot see what a fiery nimbuli is holding.
It has the following aliases: nimbuli, fae.
Old in appearance though not in body, Mraxin is an aslaran man who has seen much in his lifetime, evidenced by the sparse grey fur around his eyes, nose, and lips. His tawny fur is likewise sprinkled with the salt-and-pepper strands, though this does little to detract from the lithe figure that still remains. Twisted into long braids, his thick mane flows from all around his head, knotted with bone beads and held together in a thick ponytail behind him by a leather thong. Around his waist is a war skirt of painted skins, synched by a simple hemp belt that bares ecological tools: a metallic charm, a bone fetish, and an accompaniment of smudges. In his paws, the man wields a cudgel carved from sun-bleached bone, which matches the armband around his right wrist that is patterned with a circle surrounded by triangles. His violent eyes pierce everything around him, having not lost their sharpness in his old age.
Mraxin, the Perihelion exudes an aura of overwhelming power.
He weighs about 252 pounds.
He has a moderate weakness to fire damage.
He has a slight resistance to cold damage.
You cannot see what Mraxin, the Perihelion is holding.
It has the following aliases: mraxin, aslaran, keeper.
unfortunately gnarled nose.
Turiki, Guardian of the Aphelion has an air of extreme strength.
She weighs about 327 pounds.
She has a moderate resistance to cutting damage.
She has a slight weakness to magic damage.
You cannot see what Turiki, Guardian of the Aphelion is holding.
It has the following aliases: turiki, guardian, taurian.
Limned in a blaze of sunlight, Sidwesh is a young aslaran man that is leonine in appearance and lithe in form. Dark fur delinates his eyes, nose, and lips, while his pelt is overall blonde in colour and coarse in texture; a thick mane of similar colour frames the sides, bottom, and top of his head like a veil or turban. Blinking beneath a wide forehead, sharp eyes of pale amber constantly upturn toward the heavens above. The rest of his face is rather severe - his muzzle dark and forced into a grim, serious line. He grips a cudgel of dark wood in one of his paws, while the other holds a thin book carved from sun-bleached bone. Peeking out underneath his loose-fitting robes of woven fabric, a tense tail sweeps the ground: its length strung with bangles and bands that gently click together as the limb moves.
Sidwesh, the Welcoming Dawn has an air of extreme strength.
He weighs about 249 pounds.
He has a moderate weakness to fire damage.
He has a slight resistance to cold damage.
You cannot see what Sidwesh, the Welcoming Dawn is holding.
It has the following aliases: sidwesh, aslaran.
She has a moderate resistance to electrical damage.
Rather bulbous and old-looking, the tree's small size is the only thing that indicates it as a sapling sunpride baobab, the sacred tree of Jojobo. In fact, it could easily be mistaken for the root of the tree itself, growing upside down for some peculiar reason with its thick trunk that tapers to wispy, finger like branches. The bark is knotted and grey, unattractively plain and marked by horizontal grooves that ring around its tuber-like architecture. Challenging the dismal appearance of the tree are the sapling's leaves, which are a rich gold in colour with hints of russet and more vivid red; they possess a velvety texture and are shaped like miniature pawprints.
A sunpride sapling looks weak and feeble.
Significantly larger than it once was as a scrappy sapling, this mature sunpride tree is exceptionally large and wide; at least an arm's length in width, the thick trunk is riddled with grooves and furrows, and the grey bark has taken a more desiccated expression. Where it flares at the base, the tree begins to taper further toward its branches, which gives it the appearance of a taproot more than the average tree. The branches are finer still like veins, their rhizomatic arcs spreading wide to soak up the sun with its velvety, golden leaves.
A mature sunpride tree looks weak and feeble.
Breaking at least a hundred feet into the air, the tuberous trunk of this sunpride tree nonetheless tapers into thinner branches which themselves divide in an exponentially wide cover; indeed, the branches crisscross and ensnare between each other, forming a thick canopy that blots out the light below and provides the best surface cover for the tree to survive. Its grey, groove-broken bark pales in spectacularity to the golden, velvet leaves of the arbor, which subtly move as breezes pass through it, evoking the image of a burning bush. At the flared base, the roots have finally broken through the ground, snaking their way through the soil in search for moisture and nutrients. From the tree, a heady scent emanates: rich and spicy.
An enormous sunpride tree looks weak and feeble.
The pinnacle of age, this elder sunpride tree stretches its branches high and wide into the sky while doing the same with its roots below. The trunk, once tuberous and tapered has finished its growth - becoming bottle-like in shape where it flutes at both ends; the bark too has matured, the furrows lessening into a supple skin marked with the occasional knot or burl, still grey though tinged with a remark of red. Overhead, the thousands of branches spread in vein-like knotwork, rife with the golden, paw-print leaves characteristic of its species; amongst these shining blooms are strange creamy flowers that burst with delicate spines. A humid breeze clings to the tree, warm and thick from some distant jungle, and carries with it the mellow aroma of chile, chocolate, and soil.
Like a miniature sun, this bit of solar essence manifests as a tiny orb of intense, unyielding light that hovers in the air gracefully. Intermittent flashes change its pale yellow colouration from stark white to burnished gold - lucent rays flashing outward as it does so which dissipate soon after.
Combusting with an audible pop, this bit of coronal essence appears like a tiny, encapsulated, and angry flame that flares and seethes with a fiery light. A noticeable nimbus surrounds this small orb, a halo of heat and flame that engenders everything around it in a warm glow.
Firmer in shape and density, this bit of helical essence looks more like a small, still-lit ember that floats through the air, occasionally sparking when an errant breeze billows by. As swirls weightlessly, it is clear that it is following a circular pattern - an orbit - where it revolves around some absent central point.
He is a radiant immortal and large and gentle. His large, bald head features two large yellow eyes, a big smile, and a wide button nose which hides within his face. Six dots make two lines upon the crown of His head which are coloured purple, yellow, orange, blue, green and red respectively. Above and below his eyes are thick black and white tattooed markings which exaggerate His every emotion. His rotund and soft torso pulses with a soothing, soft, cosmic light, hiding the joints which connect His neck, shoulders and hips. His surprisingly flexible thick legs appear as marble pillars which are roughly half as long as His dexterous, enormous, soft, yielding arms. He is wearing simple robes and a thick necklace with an open hand of abanoi pendant.
You look at a thick necklace with an open hand of abanoi pendant that Weiwae is wearing:
This beautiful diamond necklace has been delicately crafted from a number of well cut stones. Set into platinum holders, the large white jewels catch the light with an impressive display of colour.
You look at simple robes that Weiwae is wearing:
These robes are made of pure white cloth made of a divine material. Wide sleeves allow for items to be stored within, and the robes drape around the ankles, billowing around the wearer.
Fixed that for you.
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
I'm a consent-based roleplayer! Kindly ask first, and I will return the favour. Open to developing tinyplots.
Atlantis is my client of choice! (Guide)
The eye of Dylara materialises in your hands and flings itself around your neck, tightening incomprehensibly until it is irremovable.
Perfectly clean, this eyeball has been wrenched from the socket of Dylara. It has been animated by some unusual force, constantly looking around itself as if in shock or fear. It is bathed in a light covering of white flames that roll endlessly over its surface. A single chain of empyreal metal pierces either side of the eye, allowing it to be worn around the neck.
If olive oil comes from olives, where does baby oil come from?
If vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarians eat?
You begin to wield Kiss of the Enchantress in your hands.
As you wield Kiss of the Enchantress in your hands, tendrils of amethyst fog creep forth from the
chain as if having a life of their own, spreading over your body. The fog continues to spread like a
blanket, until it finally leaves you enclosed within a comforting shroud, giving a feeling like the
Enchantress Herself were standing right behind you.
The links of this jakari chain have been painstakingly carved from pieces of flawless amethyst; each link has been enchanted to generate a deep amethyst-hued fog. Numerous barbs have been fused to each link, fashioned to look like a rose thorn, the tip of each barb being sharp enough to strip skin and rend flesh from bone. Weighing down one end of the chain, pieces of ruby and amethyst have been carved and fitted together in the shape of a roaring flame; each facet catches the light and refracts it within, to make the flame seem to hold a life of its own. The other end is weighted with a large piece of onyx that has been worked into the form of a nightingale darker than midnight itself, two sapphires set into the head give the bird an unnervingly piercing gaze.
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aaand the new statue in Drocilla's fulcrux:
Delicately curving lines of translucent crystal trace the figure of a lithe viscanti maiden immortalised in a resolute pose. An icy expression is embedded upon her focused face, be it through the sharpness of the medium or intention, only further enhanced by a stern hairdo of coiling tight braids encircling a head bearing regal horns. Diminutive wings rise from her back, their unique beauty rendered in the crystal faithfully, while her form is clad in a lace-trimmed gown, the icy-blue crystal blushing with lavender hues to mimic a vespertine fabric. Both arms hang loosely by her sides, bejewelled hands balled in either anticipation or eagerness.
He is a ferocious loboshigaru and stands statuesque, a stoic vision in stone locked beneath a pebbly carapace. The canine shape of his skull remains evident even under the gravelly pustules populating his jaw and cheekbones, and his triangular ears stand rigidly attentive despite his left apparently having broken in half. Dull grey eyes as expressive as weather-worn stone perch atop a crusty canid muzzle, his whiskers now but shattered stubs below a dry, leathery nose. Sparse tufts of beryl hued fur sprout from parched skin like withered wildgrass clinging to life amid a desolate, arid landscape. His every movement is slow and mechanical, suggesting not the control and precision of a martial artist, but a labored and concerted effort to move at all, each strained tug of muscle or shift of skin precursor to a brief avalanche of unsettled sandy fragments. Behind him hangs a spindly vestigial cord of rocky vertebrae, the naked, lifeless remnant of his tail. Scarcely visible, and only under the closest scrutiny, a faint white effulgence seems to flicker within the fine, labyrinthine fissures that course across his skin, the last subtle vestige of a serene warmth now encrusted in shale. Flecks of ash drift in weightless orbit about his form.
Estarra the Eternal says, "Give Shevat the floor please."
Truly enormous in size, this colossal centipede is unlike any found within the Basin of Life, reaching almost two metres in length from scalloped head to skittering backside. Its flamboyant, red exoskeleton shines with a gradient of fiery hues, edged elegantly in black like the painted nails of a noblewoman or the burnished hide of a dragon. Raising the insect to a significant height, its thin, segmented legs are a startling yellow colour; they taper to thin points which seem to ceaselessly elicit a clinking sound as the creature slithers across the ground. Two of these legs protrude from its head, just beneath the centipede's simple eyes and curled antennae, and terminate in sharp claws that drip with venom. A Jojoban sunsting centipede has an air of extreme strength.
He weighs about 142 pounds. He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a Jojoban sunsting centipede is holding. It has the following aliases: centipede, sunsting.
As beautiful as it is deadly, the gold-legged fatespinner spider is quite large in size, spanning the width of two outstretched hands. Its cephalothorax and the beginning of its bulbous abdomen are distinctively white, which yields to a speckled red, yellow and black hues that looks as if it were carelessly splattered by a fickle artist. Eight, tapered legs poke out from its darker underside and cling dearly to the sticky, ebon silk web that the arachnid has made; it is these legs, of course, which gives the spider its name, for they are burnished gold like a set of knitting needles, which offers a stark contrast to the black webbing. From the spider's spinnerets, more silk still is made: globules of some dark fluid becoming solid, firm silk that gives the creature leverage and manoeuvrability. Two sets of fangs twitch below the spider's eight beady eyes, chittering with hunger. A gold-legged fatespinner spider looks to be crushingly strong.
He weighs about 95 pounds. He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a gold-legged fatespinner spider is holding. It has the following aliases: spider, fatespinner.
Leaner in shape than when it was a grab, this larva is an arm's length in size and bustles to and from with slender, stem-like legs. This slenderness in shape is noticeable through its segmented thorax and abdomen, synched together with the small sheathe of hardened shell; the carapace, in fact, covers most of the insect's body with the reticulated interlacing of scales, each one shining like chips of obsidian or onyx even when dulled by the grime and dirt of the jungle floor. Below, the soft underbelly of the larva is pitch-black in hue, though it is sprinkled with flecks of paler grey and slate. While the posterior still discharges a sizzling trail of slime, the head of the insect is more defined: a maw filled with sharper teeth, protected by a flaring pair of mandibles.
A ravenous, scuttling larva appears to be extraordinarily strong. He weighs about 1 pounds and 9 ounce(s). He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a ravenous, scuttling larva is holding. It has the following aliases: larva.
Dark plates of hardened shell encase the entirety of this wide-girthed insect, whose true nature is hidden because of the blackened carapace; speckles of pale grey and ghostly markings swirl across the pupa's casing, which gifts it a smoky quality that offers suitable camouflage amongst the shadows of the jungle floor. Protruding from all directions are jagged spikes that jut out from the plated pod, sharp like thorns and curved just the same. Where once would have been a soft underbelly is now a firm surface; however, strangely, thin yet sturdy legs poke out and give the exarate tumbler a semblance of mobility: an awkward gait that sways in zigzags. From within, the soft murmur of growth can be discerned, which persists as an annoying whine or buzz. Am ambular, ghostly-speckled pupa looks to be crushingly strong.
He weighs about 3 pounds and 2 ounce(s). He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what am ambular, ghostly-speckled pupa is holding. It has the following aliases: pupa.
Truly enormous in size, the shadegeist mosquito spans a fathom in length from the immensity of its slender legs alone; its darkly-translucent wings too are great and long, taking up half of its size as they constantly beat to keep the insect effortlessly soaring through the air. Both its thorax and abdomen are dark: a black backdrop that is streaked with lighter patterns in smoke-grey and slate. The only other hint of colour that breaks this relatively monochrome affair is the bright crimson of the mosquito's compound eyes, which seem to stare at the world with little sense of fixation. Of most notable concern is the insect's great proboscis that, like a stiletto unsheathed, tapers to a fine, barb-like point useful for procuring the blood of its victims. A constant, grating buzz or whine emanates from the mosquito, heralding its presence even amongst the gloom of the jungle.
A giant shadegeist mosquito exudes an aura of overwhelming power. He weighs about 8 pounds. He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a giant shadegeist mosquito is holding. It has the following aliases: mosquito, shadegeist.
More like a blob of flesh than a proper insect, this dark-coloured grub frantically squirms in the vain hope of escaping more cunning predators. However, it is slow-moving in this regard, as its stem- thin legs can barely uphold its fat, bulbous body which is riddled with the subtle reticulations of veins. The ebon skin is utterly opaque with a subtle creaminess to its appearance; it offers little protection from teeth or claw, but it does give a meager camouflage as the grub shuffles from shadow to shadow. Spewing from one of the bug's blunt ends a long trail of slime that sizzles gently as the creature carves a path through the jungle. A jet-black jungle grub seems strong and confident.
He weighs about 1 pounds and 2 ounce(s). He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a jet-black jungle grub is holding. It has the following aliases: grub.
Significantly larger than the average ant, the lion ant travels on six, segmented legs that heft its chitinous frame a good hand or two in height. Black from mandibles to stinger, the insect's thorax and abdomen are sleek and gleam like plate armour; the only pop of colour comes from its multi- faceted eyes of red-hot crimson that fixate wildly below a pair of thin, reedy antennae. The cruel barb of a stinger juts out from behind the ant, dripping poison on occasion which sizzles in a trail behind it. A strong-jawed lion ant looks to be crushingly strong. He weighs about 159 pounds. He has a mild weakness to blunt damage. He has a slight resistance to fire damage. You cannot see what a strong-jawed lion ant is holding. It has the following aliases: ant, lionant.
He is a feathered trill and looks like an old, wise bird. Healed scars from battles fought long ago
cross the bronze skin of his tall, lithe body suited for flying that is in decent shape for its age,
though it lacks the definition of a seasoned warrior and bears quite a few more wrinkles. A cloak of
silver feathers tipped in blue covers the two great broad wings that sprout from his back, and
similar feathers crown his head with a magnificent, stately crest. Beads and feathered charms woven
into the crest, old tribal tokens and ritual fetishes, clink together with every movement.
Completing his bird-like appearance are eyes like emeralds that sit slightly recessed on either side
of a hawkish nose, and a slight frown pulls on the corners of his mouth.