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[IC] - TIDERULER OF MARAN
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<blockquote data-quote="Archon Basileus" data-source="post: 7031035" data-attributes="member: 6855545"><p><strong>EVERYONE</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>The Gardener simply responds to Marius with a negative. “I knew the way, once. But no longer. These things were lost to me a long time ago.” – his voice almost sounds like a lament. </strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>The monk mans the sword with ease. The claymore feels a lot lighter than it seems. Still, the impact of its blows is far greater than it would normally be. </strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>The armor resists the very first blows, shaking under the terrible, resounding strikes of the weapon. Slowly, it begins to falter. The blade arches around, hitting the plaque once more with a loud thud. Once, twice, three times again, until the chest breaks under the pressure, spreading two curved, separate pieces around. Suddenly, it is as if the parts release something barely contained within them. The black ichor melts from the chest as if fleeting paint, and a strange cloud rises from the scattered lather pieces. Distant voices can be heard as faces manifest themselves among the fog. Slowly, the thick mess envelops the monk, as if seeking to embrace him, and deposits itself over the man’s clothes and skin, vanishing completely. As for the armor, the pieces that once composed it are nothing more than shards of cured, solid leather, resting indifferently on the floor.</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>All things, dead and living, leave their magical traces, and Morgrym’s eyes are wide open to them once more. To some this has become an addiction, the dwarf heard, but pragmatic minds could face the telluric lay lines and come back unaffected. His rich surroundings shine once more with the telluric shock caused by the Garderner’s presence. Beyond his explosion of colors and lights, the dwarf sees the remnants of negative energy sliding from the body and into the rocks, wasting themselves into nothingness. From the stones, coins and collars, Morgrym only obtains a faint gleam. It emanates from the ring, discharging continuous waves of serene melody. The waves cover everyone and everything, reaching the walls as the calm rhythm of the seas and going through them. Morgrym identifies the patterns. This ring can be located by others and allows for mental communication once worn, but only with others that wear similar pieces. </strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>As for the sword, now held by Marius, it shines with great intensity, looking sharper and more elegant than it truly is. A second blade, of spiritual nature, was added to the first one, granting it sharper edges and lighter handling. The spell is widely known, even though not all enchanters perform it this way. Dragons were known to have a distinct approach to spellcasting, believing it to be the direct manipulation of the spiritual nature of existence in order to alter its material manifestations. Such acts would be performed, as the legend goes, by an increasing awareness of the unity of existence, translated in an ever-changing language that not only communicated but also created bits of reality as it was employed. This is the closest application of such metaphysical theories Morgrym has seen so far. </strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Whenever Marius glances at the runes, this is the exact feeling he gets. Every subtle transformation in draconic language is not a simple idiomatic alteration. It rather incorporates historical and philosophical transitions experienced and sufferedby the writer. When such distinctions emerge, it is usually understood that the writer transcended his former existencial conditions to become something unique and distinct, something he was not raised and educated to be. These runes might therefore translate the language of a revered dragon, one that went so far in his own path of enlightenment that turned incomprehensible by regular draconic standards. Most dragons, legend tells, would be concerned to share their knowledge after undergoing such transformations, thus enriching draconic language - and existence - as a hole. If such words remained out of their shared repertoire - the one Marius learned - that means somehow the creature that wrote it chose to hide knowledge for whatever reason. Either that, or it was banned from its midst (which musing is to be considered true, only a dragon can tell…).</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>At first, Morgrym thinks that the blade held some effect upon Marius, since his entire body glows after the armor’s destruction. Soon enough, the druid understands this is not the case. The moving web over the monk’s body seems to reflect spiritual faces, almost as those present in the armor a few moments before. This time, though, the faces do not anguish. On the contrary, they seem focused and diligent. It seems that, once freed, the souls chose to protect the monk from harm, covering his flesh with their own quintessence-fueled bodies in order to strengthen him. Morgrym can hear whispers of gratitude in many languages, some even unknown to him, despite the familiar meaning. </strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Arvana seems to take an interest in the name, as well as Reynard’s concern for Maran.</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>“I only know half the story…” – she approaches – “… but since you don’t know who you’re looking for, maybe I can give you a hand” – she bends forward, studying Reynard’s hands and overall gestures. “Long story short, I know people that excel in knowing people. Maybe they can find your guy. They’re a bit…. Shifty, but after we get their trail, we can strike an easy deal and see what they know.”</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="color: #FF0000"><em>[Ok, so... the claymore has +2 damage and +2 attack bonus, no curses or dark magic on it whatsoever! As for Marius, he now has a spiritual armor over him, granting +1 AC and... Well, spirits can do more than that, but time will tell you what exactly.</em></span></p><p><span style="color: #FF0000"><em></em></span></p><p><span style="color: #FF0000"><em>The curative waters healed 6 points of damage. They can be drunk once a day and each use heals 1D8 points of HP]</em></span></p><p><span style="color: #FF0000"><em></em></span></p><p><span style="color: #FF0000"><em></em></span><span style="color: #333333"><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'">@</span></span><em><strong><u><a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/member.php?u=6801450" target="_blank">Trogdor1992</a></u></strong> @<em><strong><u><a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/member.php?u=24380" target="_blank">Neurotic</a></u></strong> @<em><strong><u><a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/member.php?u=6801311" target="_blank">KahlessNestor</a></u></strong> @<em><strong><u><a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/member.php?u=6855130" target="_blank">Jago</a> [MENTION=87106]MetaVoid[/MENTION]</u></strong></em></em></em></em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Archon Basileus, post: 7031035, member: 6855545"] [B]EVERYONE The Gardener simply responds to Marius with a negative. “I knew the way, once. But no longer. These things were lost to me a long time ago.” – his voice almost sounds like a lament. The monk mans the sword with ease. The claymore feels a lot lighter than it seems. Still, the impact of its blows is far greater than it would normally be. The armor resists the very first blows, shaking under the terrible, resounding strikes of the weapon. Slowly, it begins to falter. The blade arches around, hitting the plaque once more with a loud thud. Once, twice, three times again, until the chest breaks under the pressure, spreading two curved, separate pieces around. Suddenly, it is as if the parts release something barely contained within them. The black ichor melts from the chest as if fleeting paint, and a strange cloud rises from the scattered lather pieces. Distant voices can be heard as faces manifest themselves among the fog. Slowly, the thick mess envelops the monk, as if seeking to embrace him, and deposits itself over the man’s clothes and skin, vanishing completely. As for the armor, the pieces that once composed it are nothing more than shards of cured, solid leather, resting indifferently on the floor. All things, dead and living, leave their magical traces, and Morgrym’s eyes are wide open to them once more. To some this has become an addiction, the dwarf heard, but pragmatic minds could face the telluric lay lines and come back unaffected. His rich surroundings shine once more with the telluric shock caused by the Garderner’s presence. Beyond his explosion of colors and lights, the dwarf sees the remnants of negative energy sliding from the body and into the rocks, wasting themselves into nothingness. From the stones, coins and collars, Morgrym only obtains a faint gleam. It emanates from the ring, discharging continuous waves of serene melody. The waves cover everyone and everything, reaching the walls as the calm rhythm of the seas and going through them. Morgrym identifies the patterns. This ring can be located by others and allows for mental communication once worn, but only with others that wear similar pieces. As for the sword, now held by Marius, it shines with great intensity, looking sharper and more elegant than it truly is. A second blade, of spiritual nature, was added to the first one, granting it sharper edges and lighter handling. The spell is widely known, even though not all enchanters perform it this way. Dragons were known to have a distinct approach to spellcasting, believing it to be the direct manipulation of the spiritual nature of existence in order to alter its material manifestations. Such acts would be performed, as the legend goes, by an increasing awareness of the unity of existence, translated in an ever-changing language that not only communicated but also created bits of reality as it was employed. This is the closest application of such metaphysical theories Morgrym has seen so far. Whenever Marius glances at the runes, this is the exact feeling he gets. Every subtle transformation in draconic language is not a simple idiomatic alteration. It rather incorporates historical and philosophical transitions experienced and sufferedby the writer. When such distinctions emerge, it is usually understood that the writer transcended his former existencial conditions to become something unique and distinct, something he was not raised and educated to be. These runes might therefore translate the language of a revered dragon, one that went so far in his own path of enlightenment that turned incomprehensible by regular draconic standards. Most dragons, legend tells, would be concerned to share their knowledge after undergoing such transformations, thus enriching draconic language - and existence - as a hole. If such words remained out of their shared repertoire - the one Marius learned - that means somehow the creature that wrote it chose to hide knowledge for whatever reason. Either that, or it was banned from its midst (which musing is to be considered true, only a dragon can tell…). At first, Morgrym thinks that the blade held some effect upon Marius, since his entire body glows after the armor’s destruction. Soon enough, the druid understands this is not the case. The moving web over the monk’s body seems to reflect spiritual faces, almost as those present in the armor a few moments before. This time, though, the faces do not anguish. On the contrary, they seem focused and diligent. It seems that, once freed, the souls chose to protect the monk from harm, covering his flesh with their own quintessence-fueled bodies in order to strengthen him. Morgrym can hear whispers of gratitude in many languages, some even unknown to him, despite the familiar meaning. Arvana seems to take an interest in the name, as well as Reynard’s concern for Maran. “I only know half the story…” – she approaches – “… but since you don’t know who you’re looking for, maybe I can give you a hand” – she bends forward, studying Reynard’s hands and overall gestures. “Long story short, I know people that excel in knowing people. Maybe they can find your guy. They’re a bit…. Shifty, but after we get their trail, we can strike an easy deal and see what they know.”[/B] [COLOR=#FF0000][I][Ok, so... the claymore has +2 damage and +2 attack bonus, no curses or dark magic on it whatsoever! As for Marius, he now has a spiritual armor over him, granting +1 AC and... Well, spirits can do more than that, but time will tell you what exactly. The curative waters healed 6 points of damage. They can be drunk once a day and each use heals 1D8 points of HP] [/I][/COLOR][COLOR=#333333][FONT=Verdana]@[/FONT][/COLOR][I][B][U][URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/member.php?u=6801450"]Trogdor1992[/URL][/U][/B] @[I][B][U][URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/member.php?u=24380"]Neurotic[/URL][/U][/B] @[I][B][U][URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/member.php?u=6801311"]KahlessNestor[/URL][/U][/B] @[I][B][U][URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/member.php?u=6855130"]Jago[/URL] [MENTION=87106]MetaVoid[/MENTION][/U][/B][/I][/I][/I][/I] [/QUOTE]
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