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That was all right and good until the issue threat. Ruined the entire interaction.
Celestial lights spiral erratically downwards, illuminating the surroundings with their deep, bloody glow as they converge to form Ourania, Goddess of the Moon.You kiss Arionna passionately. (like, the same prompt)The Red Dragon Arionna's imposing form looms. Ourania, Goddess of the Moon is here, a cluster of radiant stars orbiting around Her celestial form. Ourania, Goddess of the Moon says, "Ew."<for some stupid reason, I forgot to look at her. /facedesk>You say, "Ah."
A log of our recent dedication service of the old royal chapel in the palace of Ashtan. Well done, @Dunn and @Amunet!
(Ashtan): Sohl says, "All are welcome to attend. We will begin very shortly, please start making your way over now."
A single gleaming red eye opens in midair, then suddenly becomes the heart of a swirling fog of shimmering distortion that clears to reveal the black-robed figure of Mordanyconus.
Sohl bows his head to Mordanyconus respectfully.
Jarrod bows respectfully to Mordanyconus.
Mordanyconus inclines his head politely.
You bow respectfully to Mordanyconus.
Vrass gives the world a smart salute.
A majestic royal chapel.Towering statues of the historical Patrons of Ashtan line the white walls of this chapel, their ominous gazes lending an intense air of cold solemnity to theroom. Mighty Aegis, the ancient God of War, stares across the nave at terrible Shaitan, while far-seeing Vastar spreads His great wings across a domed ceiling painted ultramarine and studded with silver stars. A high altar stands at the front of the chapel, its surface covered by an ornate cloth of black and gold. Behind the altar, a statue of the Logos towers majestically, clad in flowing grey robes that obscure His face. At his side, the hunched form of Babel, the God of Chaos stands in the shadows behind the pulpit. Clerestory windows illuminate the chapel from dawn until dusk, but ornate sconces set high upon thewalls hold thick, white candles to light the holy place for evening worshippers.A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. There are 2 ebony pegasi here. Mordanyconus stands here, three ruby-red eyes gleaming in his tanned face. A baby rat timidly moves in the shadows here. A young rat cautiously noses about for food here. A nebulous water weird is here. Warlock Seragorn Rousseau is here, shrouded. He wields a Shield of Absorption in his right hand. The Black Dragon Nat's imposing form looms. Mistress of Minions Nieelensars, Dragon Snack is here. Her face is partially concealed beneath a raised hood. She wields a butchering cleaver in her left hand and an ornate steel rapier in her right. Legatus Sohl Vallah, Herald of Ruin is here. He wields a gleaming scimitar in his left hand and a Shield of Absorption bearing the House arms of the Occultists in his right. Renshi Darklyre Corten is here. Siak Kanku'dai is here.He wields an elemental staff in his left hand and a Shield of Absorption in his right. He is surrounded by one reflection of himself. Grumpmeister Sheltan Tiercel is riding on an ebony pegasus. He wields an elemental staff in his left hand and a Shield of Absorption in his right. He is surrounded by one reflectionof himself. Flamebrand Recruit Vrass is here. She wields a nearly perfect vodun doll of Ayoxele in her left hand. Triak, the Mindbreaker is here. He wields an ethereal shield of bound shadows in his right hand. Doom Oiseaux, Maefeng PalomaNeige, Arresting Enchantress is here. She wields an ornate steel rapier in each hand.You see exits leading west (open door) and down.
Mordanyconus has a seat on one of the front pews, watching quietly.
The candles seem to dim and an unnatural hush descends upon the chapel as four short, black-robed acolytes enter from the west.
A pair of black-robed acolytes begin a slow march up the nave, each footstep punctuated by the deep knell of the heavy iron bells clutched within their hands.
Gently tapping a twisted staff before her, Urdu, the Crone of Reckoning shufflesin from the west.
Silent as shadows, the second pair of acolytes falls into stride behind the first, swinging rusted censers seething tendrils of cloying smoke.
Standing before the altar, the first pair of acolytes pauses for but a heartbeatto kneel reverently before the presence of their God.
Rising once more, the acolytes turn from the altar and walk in opposite directions before the first row of pews, the hollow sound of their bells in perfect synchronisation.
Mimicking the actions of their fellows, the censer-bearers kneel before the altar before proceeding down opposite sides of the chapel.
Fulsome plumes of incense permeate the air as the acolytes circle the perimeter,coming to a halt on either side of the chapel doors.
The even pulse of the bells continues.
Four quick, ominous clangs shatter the air at Dunn's arrival, resuming a steady beat as the quartet of acolytes follow him toward the altar.
Dunn comes to a sudden stop at the centre of the nave, dropping to his knees as the acolytes arrange themselves around him.
The bells clang wildly, their frantic beat rupturing the air as the four acolytes begin to chant in eerie double tones.
Dunn bows his head in silent prayer, his hands planted purposefully on either side of the runes he has inscribed.
As the chanting reaches a cacophonic climax, the runes flare, flooding the chapel with soft luminescence.
Shadows and smoke writhe manically through the air, throbbing with soundless energy as Dunn rises, and the procession continues forward toward the altar.
The procession halts, and Dunn takes his place at the lectern.
Warlord Dunn Lichlord says, "Since the days of Glanos, our Master, the Lord of Oblivion and true God of Chaos, has favoured the Bastion of the North."
Warlord Dunn Lichlord says, "It was His benevolence that delivered fledgling Ashtan from famine. It was His faithful who established this palace, and led ourpeople through their nascent years in wisdom and strength."
Warlord Dunn Lichlord says, "Over millennia, even in His captivity, He has watched us with diligence. He has waited until Ashtan again grew worthy of the
Warlord Dunn Lichlord says, "The Power of Chaos has taken root in this place. Ithas bloomed, and burgeoned, growing exponentially beneath His hand. By His blessing, Chaos has infused the core of our society, and the tendrils of encroaching Oblivion have strangled the life from our opponents. All who challenge the Bastion fall before our blades and bathe His altars in their entrails."
Warlord Dunn Lichlord says, "This night, as in days of yore, we consecrate this chapel in the name of our Patron. We honour Him, and beseech His perpetual benediction. May all of our glories - our every victory - be met with His boon."
The darkness above rolls thickly in anticipation, plumes of smoke casting phantasmal shadows as the runes upon the floor blaze with renewed vivacity.
Warlord Dunn Lichlord says, "In homage of His greatness, and as a symbol of our devotion, we bind this covenant in blood. Bring in the sacrifice!"
The ringing silence in the wake of Dunn's exclamation is broken by the soft, subtle strains of a funereal hymn sung in a minor key.
Amunet steps through the doors of the chapel, a small, ebon-swaddled bundle clutched to her chest.
A hushed, eidolic soprano rises from Amunet's lips as she proceeds down the nave, singing the dolorous elegy like a lullaby.
The heavy toll of the acolyte's bells keeps pace with Amunet's footsteps, marking the rhythm of her reverent song.
The voices of the observing Nihilists rise from the pews, some bolstering the tune while others form a dissonant harmony.
The hymn swells as Amunet climbs the brief steps to the altar, unwinding the swaddling from the bundle in her arms.
A piercing squall slices the air, momentarily overwhelming the melody's hauntingdecrescendo.
As the final words of the hymn echo through the chapel, Amunet hands a wriggling, human newborn to Dunn.
Dunn places the infant gently upon the altar before turning again to face the audience.
Amunet takes up a bowl of ashes from a small table beside the altar and marks the forehead of the child with the Twin. Her lips form wordless prayers and blessings as she places a soothing hand upon its abdomen, quieting its cries as Dunn begins to speak.
Warlord Dunn Lichlord says, "In the face of Oblivion, all life is meaningless. Acknowledgement of this fact allows one to ascribe depth and purpose to an existence bereft of worth. The process of living is dying - even as we grow within the womb, we are marching one step closer to our graves."
Warlord Dunn Lichlord says, "Nonetheless, an infant is a powerful representationof the Void. It is the mortal manifestation of pure potential. Its mind, its body, and its legacy are undeveloped and unknown. As it ages, that potential is stunted. Years and experience will harden its figure and narrow its perspective.It can rightfully be said that no man is as strong, nor as valuable, as the babyat its mother's breast."
As Dunn takes his place at the head of the altar, Amunet places two glass inkwells upon its surface - one filled with blue ink, the other with yellow.
Placing one hand upon the crown of the infant's head, Dunn intones, "In the nameof Black Babel, God of Chaos, Lord of Oblivion, Destroyer of Worlds, I commend the soul and power of this child to the infinite Void!"
You have emoted: Corbeaux bows his head in silent reverence.
Dipping a pointed stick into each of the inkwells, Dunn sketches nauthiz squarely upon the infant's chest, finishing the rune with a flourish.
The ghastly shriek of a babe in agony rips through the chamber as the infant's body is enveloped in eldritch flames.
Sacrificed to the Lord of Oblivion, a human infant perishes in an eldritch conflagration.
The eldritch flames wash over you, scouring flesh from bone. Strangely, you feelno heat, only a sudden release, and then darkness.
You have been slain by a conflagration of eldritch flame. [Along with everyone else in attendance!]A shadowy black asp falls out of your inventory.
By the divine might of Babel, you are restored to life. [Along with everyone else]
The ashes stir slightly in an unseen breeze.
A voice whispers from out of the ashes, "I hear and see."
"The sacrifice is accepted. Fear not for the child; he has found sweet consummation."
Urdu, the Crone of Reckoning nods.
"Do not mistake Me: I do not wish to rule Ashtan with My own fist. That is unnecessary."
"Nonetheless. Ashtan is My eldest and favoured child. Where you go, I follow. Donot fear."
The ashes are carried away by the breeze, and then silence returns.
Sohl whispers with an urbane accent, "Hail the Devouring Madness."
In acknowledgement of the ritual's conclusion, the acolytes proceed back down the nave in the same slow procession, deftly avoiding the smouldering runes, in rhythm to the tolling of their bells.
Urdu, the Crone of Reckoning says, "Fine work, fine work."
The acolytes stop behind the back row of pews, their bells patiently marking theritualists' exit.
Amunet walks toward the exit with slow, solemn strides, her hands now empty and folded in front of her.
Dunn steps down from the altar, bringing up the rear of the procession.
Lianca, Occult Taskmaster smiles and says to Urdu, the Crone of Reckoning, "Thank you for joining us."
As he passes through the chapel doors, the acolytes follow, bells now stilled asthey leave naught but silence in their wake.
Urdu, the Crone of Reckoning says, "I could do no less than support this, my dearies."
Mordanyconus applauds mildly, wiping away char marks from his skin.
Urdu, the Crone of Reckoning eyes Mordanyconus and mumbles something under her breath.
A distraught mother, seeking desperately after her child, has drowned in the turbulent seas north of New Hope.
(Ashtan): Amunet says, "Thank you, all of you who took the time to attend. Hail to the God of Chaos; the Lord of Oblivion!"
(Party): Mizik says, "This can't possibly go wrong."
Guess she hadn't learned treading in survival yet.
The Divine voice of Aurora echoes in your head, "Silas."
You tell Aurora, the Lightbringer, "My Lady."
The Divine voice of Aurora echoes in your head, "Have you thought more on the conversation we held a short month or so ago?"
You tell Aurora, the Lightbringer, "I have, my Lady."
The Divine voice of Aurora echoes in your head, "Do you still wish to seek entrance into My following?"
You tell Aurora, the Lightbringer, "I do, my Lady. My resolve is unyielding."
The Divine voice of Aurora echoes in your head, "Very well."
The Abbess' private office.
A small writing desk of cherrywood is placed near the open window. Intricately detailed, a wooden model of a guardian djinn stares into the surroundings with beady eyes. A wrinkled old woman stands here, her eyes reflecting wisdom that can only come with age. Aurora, the Lightbringer is here, ivory motes weaving through Her resplendence. She wields the Sword of Dunamis in Her right hand.
You see a single exit leading DOWN (closed door).
You are transported by the power of the Divine.
You drop to one knee before Aurora.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "The Abbess has kindly bid me the use of her office."
The Lightbringer stands before you, Her visage austere.
She is a radiant immortal, Her stark frame shrouded within a golden nimbus of light. Across alabaster flesh crawl silvery tendrils, suffusing the skin with an eerie shimmer. The living tattoo flickers and contorts, intermittently writhing into the magnificent outlines of both phoenix and dragon. Crowning a stoic visage, platinum tresses edge over Her shoulder blades, the luminous strands infused with rich flecks of incandescence. Her timeless countenance is a study of pious resolve, inky eyes awash with a fierce glow of determination. She is wearing soft leather boots of tan and gold, a pair of ivory gauze trousers, a silken tunic of ivory, gilded with golden hues, a burnished girdle of solid gold, a plain ring of polished gold, a crimson-stained silken ribbon, and a circlet of hammered gold.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "I summon you before Me to judge your worth."
Lustrous motes of gold and ivory arise from the form of Aurora, circling around Her in a maelstrom of light.
You have tmoted: Silas bows his head in reverential silence.
At a sharp incline of Her head, the particles streak towards Silas, enveloping his form.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "There will be only truth from this moment forth, you who seek the Light. Truth is your weapon. Light is your shield."
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Wield the truth. Allow it to open your eyes to the sins of the land."
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Light will prevail. Your belief is what will protect you from those who would seek to deceive, to
taint, to oppress."
Warming tendrils of ivory settle across the shoulders of Silas, assuming the form of a mantle.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "All who walk this higher path shall commit their lives to My cause. That is My will. Grow. As Creation should, and will."
The temperature in the room plummets as a brief flicker of anger crosses the Lightbringer's stark face.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Cowardice and treachery will earn My immense displeasure. Your bond to Me shall be absolute, and eternal."
Golden lettering imprints across your mind, beseeching you to speak forth the words that you see.
I, Silas Maynard, do pledge my life in service to the Goddess of Light.
You say, "I, Silas Maynard, do pledge my life in service to the Goddess of Light."
From this day forward I stand ready to defend Creation. Truth is my weapon. Light is my shield.
You say, "From this day forward I stand ready to defend Creation. Truth is my weapon. Light is my shield."
These words are my bind to the Lightbringer. Let no lies spill from my lips. Let Darkness never shade my mind. Let Chaos never poison my body. Let Evil never dictate my actions.
You say, "These words are my bind to the Lightbringer. Let no lies spill from my lips. Let Darkness never shade my mind. Let Chaos never poison my body. Let Evil never dictate my actions."
I serve She who is the Lightbringer. May lies and falsehood ever strike me down before Her gaze.
You say, "I serve She who is the Lightbringer. May lies and falsehood ever strike me down before Her gaze."
Aurora nods Her head emphatically.
The golden lettering disappears as quickly as it came, leaving only dark spots in front of your eyes.
You have tmoted: Silas blinks slowly.
The luminous motes tighten around Silas with each pledge, forming a weave of pure light. The particles flare dramatically at the end of each oath, adhering to his skin akin to an invisible bond.
Aurora raises Her arm for silence. Her eyes shutter in contemplation as She judges Silas.
Finally, Aurora nods approvingly.
As dramatically as they first surged, the motes quickly recede, dissipating around the Lightbringer.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "So it is done."
The weight of your pledge stretches through the very fibre of your being, searing tendrils embracing your heart. A blaze of white engulfs you as the oath settles onto your soul, binding you in eternal service to Light.
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "Today you enter the Aarash Kheyr, Silas. Do not disappoint Me. Do not Disavow Me."
You stand up and stretch your arms out wide.
You are now wearing a stained glass pendulum.
As you pass the platinum chain over your head, the glass pendulum flashes with a burst of radiant colour before finally coming to rest close to your heart.
Aurora grants you entrance into the Divine Order of Aurora, the Lightbringer. Congratulations!
You have tmoted: Silas bows his head once more.
You say, "My Lady, I am Yours."
(Order): Zalas, Herald of Light says, "From this day forth let it be known that the Light has turned Her gaze onto Silas Maynard."
You smile softly.
(Order): Zalas, Herald of Light says, "Welcome, Silas. Welcome, old brother. May you ever walk under Her protection."
(Order): You say, "Hail to you, Zalas, my brother once more and for eternity. Thank you."
(Order): Aurora says, "Serve Me proudly. I have every faith in your abilities."
(Order): You say, "Always, my Lady. Thank You."
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "I will let you settle for now. The judgement is no little thing, and I am sure you need time to digest all that has occured."
You nod your head at Aurora.
You say, "I have much that I want to discuss, but there is surely time for that in our future."
Aurora nods Her head emphatically.
You incline your head politely to Aurora.
You say, "Thank You, my Lady."
Aurora, the Lightbringer says, "We will meet soon."
Main hall of the monastery.
You see exits leading NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, UP (open door), DOWN, and OUT.
→My Mudlet Scripts
A high, childlike female voice sounds in your head, "Come, Dunn. The Master calls."The voice is joined by a crackling, crone-like one. "Aye. Come to the sacred grotto. Your presence is required."A subterranean grotto.This room has not been mapped.Darkness hangs over this underground grotto like a heavy shroud, enfolding everything in deep shadow. Though hardly extending more than a half dozen feet in any direction, the total absence of light gives the impression that the chamber stretches on indefinitely. A faintly stale odour lingers in the air, andthe whole space is dominated by silence so profound that it asserts a tangible presence. The silence and the darkness exert such a potent influence here that it becomes difficult to evade the impression that nothing exists beyond this single experience of complete emptiness. A small patch of blackness churns mysteriously across the floor. The Altar of the Eye looms here, its vast iron splendour adorned by thousands of surreally living eyes. Orange coals gleam in agaping mouth that opens in the belly of a terrible and obese stone woman. An unwavering blue flame glows in the cupped hands of a statue depicting a hideous and ancient turtle-headed woman. Warlord Dunn Lichlord is here. He wields an ornate steel rapier in each hand.You see a single exit leading out.You whirl to see that the entrance to the grotto has vanished.A matronly voice that brings to mind half-forgotten memories of childhood soundsfrom the darkness, "Ah. He comes."Dunn peers about the novel setting.A melodious voice replies, "He does not seem to know where he is. How delicious!"A crone-like voice sounds, "Enough. You are ready to perform the ritual of the storm, Dunn?"Warlord Dunn Lichlord says seriously, "I lack the iron, but I have the will to acquire it in order to complete the ritual of the storm, yes."The child's voice giggles. "Good. Go and do it! And when it is done, perhaps we will have a gift for you."Dunn nods his head in understanding.The darkness abates as the path out of the grotto reveals itself.Warlord Dunn Lichlord says, "It will be done."With a flourish of his arm, Dunn bows deeply.Dunn leaves to the out.A mottled marsh falcon ruffles its plumage and takes wing, gliding away.Tossing his head proudly, an ebony pegasus leaves to the out.<later, after the ritual was completed>On the precipice of the Void.A bleak pinnacle of stone rises from a profoundly empty abyss, its tip flattenedto provide a place of audience. All about the tiny island, eternal night reigns,and in most directions not even a twinkle of light is present save the eerie, sourceless glow that dimly illuminates the platform. However, in one direction, a strange effulgent haze swims through the darkness in the far distance. At the opposite edge of the precipice, a rough dais serves to support a massive, rough-hewn throne with two seats. From the depths of the Void, an eerie, chill wind blows, bearing with it the faint sound of whispers, though their words cannot be made out. Glittering within the air as it slowly rotates, a glacial shard of a star pulses with an inextinguishable power. Babel, God of Oblivion towers here amid a putrid miasma of seething distortion. He wields a fiery spear in His right hand.There are no obvious exits.A swirl of roiling black smoke and dancing eldritch flame parts to reveal Dunn.Dunn drops to one knee before Babel.Babel, God of Oblivion says, "My Priest."Warlord Dunn Lichlord says reverently, "Master."Babel, God of Oblivion says, "It is not often that one who wields the runes of Ayar's making chooses to serve Me."Wicked rows of needle-sharp teeth gleam in Babel's mouth as the God smiles enigmatically.Babel, God of Oblivion says, "Nonetheless. Come and stand with Me for a time."Dunn stands up and stretches his arms out wide.Babel, God of Oblivion says, "You know, I trust, where you are."Warlord Dunn Lichlord asks, "Where might that be, Master?"Babel, God of Oblivion says, "You stand where night never ends. This poor, broken piece of stone has not known the sun's sweet kiss since before Glanos laid the first stones of Ashtan."Dunn looks over the shard with an observant eye.Babel, God of Oblivion says, "Once this place was a great realm of philosopher-kings and poets, a place of song and laughter crafted by one of the Aldar upon a far-distant outer plane."Babel, God of Oblivion says, "Then came Chaos, and a night of tears."Babel, God of Oblivion says, "Now it stands at the very threshold of the Void."Babel extends a wizened hand towards the cold, outer darkness, an inscrutable look upon His face.Babel, God of Oblivion says, "Only My constant exertion, eternal vigilance, prevents even this last, miserable piece of stone from being swallowed, and with it all the rich and bright lands of the Inner Planes."Babel gestures over His shoulder towards the distant glimmering in the night.Dunn looks on curiously, a look of concern playing across his features.Babel, God of Oblivion says, "This is a poor, broken world."Babel, God of Oblivion says, "It is already dead. Ayar knew this."Babel, God of Oblivion says, "And yet, in His wisdom, He decreed a natural death. Its life will play out, My Priest, and in time it will die."Dunn nods his head at Babel.Babel, God of Oblivion says, "Much must be accomplished, My Priest, and it will be your task to accomplish it."Babel, God of Oblivion says, "My Spear will be bloody and My Crown rest upon a weary headindeed by the time you lay your burden down."Warlord Dunn Lichlord says, "I will do whatever You command, Master."Wicked rows of needle-sharp teeth gleam in Babel's mouth as the God smiles enigmatically.Babel, God of Oblivion says, "Are you certain? Even now, but speak the word and you will be released."Warlord Dunn Lichlord says bluntly, "Anything."A chill sense of dire, inhuman amusement sets the air about you to trembling.Babel, God of Oblivion says, "Very well. Return to whence you were, and take up My Spear with all your heart."Babel, God of Oblivion says, "Remember what you have seen. Remember the rot that lies beyond what you hear and see."Babel, God of Oblivion says, "Remember, and do not tarry."Dunn nods his head in understanding.Babel turns away, and you are taken.Dunn vanishes in a sudden swirl of black smoke and eldritch fire.A subterranean grotto.Warlord Dunn Lichlord is here. He wields an ornate steel rapier in each hand.You see a single exit leading out.Dunn bows his head in reverence and backs out of the grotto slowly."And where do you think you're going?" asks the wizened voice with a snort."You must retrieve your prize!"Warlord Dunn Lichlord says, "A hasty mistake to go forth and shed blood, I assure You."Dunn shuffles his feet uneasily.The dim light flickers, and you almost seem to see a horrible smile flash acrossthe face of a massive statue of a monstrous woman."Take the token, Dunn," breathes a husky female voice. "It is yours."Dunn takes a small jade token from a massive statue of a monstrous woman.Avoiding the poised blade just above it, Dunn reaches into the stone bowl held by a massive statue of a monstrous woman and extracts a small jade token.Comprehension flashes across Dunn's face.Dunn eyes over the small token carefully.A childlike voice giggles. "Well done. Wear it proudly. And we mentioned a gift?A gift!"The corners of Dunn's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.Dunn presses a small jade token to the centre of his forehead, where it remains fixed. The emblem on its face, a circle divided by a straight line, parts like some monstrous eyelid and opens to reveal a bizarre, living third eye on Dunn's brow.The matronly voice sighs quietly. "Your armour. Place it in our hands."Dunn removes a shimmering suit of full plate armour.Dunn puts a shimmering suit of full plate armour into a massive statue of a monstrous woman.Shivering with trepidation, Dunn approaches a massive statue of a monstrous woman and places a shimmering suit of full plate armour into the stone cup that it holds.The pale flames wash over the armour, consuming and changing it. The metal blackens and twists, until it is the colour of the darkness."Take it," a myriad of voices whisper from the darkness. "Take it and go, with our blessing."Dunn takes a jade-inlaid suit of black iron armour from a massive statue of a monstrous woman.Avoiding the poised blade just above it, Dunn reaches into the stone bowl held by a massive statue of a monstrous woman and extracts a jade-inlaid suit of black iron armour.Dunn puts on a jade-inlaid suit of black iron armour.Dunn bows his head and backs out of the grotto.Dunn leaves to the out.
Forged from cold iron the colour of the night below the earth, this suit of full plate armour covers the body completely. Though quite plain, with neither gold nor shining silver to dazzle the eye, thin slivers of inlaid jade form subtle patterns along the vambraces and greaves. The swirls of deep green upon the breastplate seem abstract at first glance, but upon closer inspection, the voids and gaps among the scattered slices of jade suggest the shape of a spread-winged raven to the eye. Otherwise, the heavy plate is ordinary and serviceable, the thick iron capable of warding a blow or turning a knife with ease. Cunning vents in a few well-protected places assist in ventilation and help keep the weight of the heavy iron armour down. A faint sheen betrays the thin coating of oil upon the iron to prevent rust and keep the full plate in perfect working order.It weighs about 225 pounds.It bears the distinctive mark of Dunn.This armour has 27 months of runic empowerment left.^The armor because the post was too long.
Not gonna lie. My storm ritual aftermath wasn't nearly as cool as that.