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Intinerant Bazaar Post-Walking 852
Just want to see what all was available. This is what I was able to grab but I missed a lot.
ORDRUIN
a sapphire scarab pouch
an ensorcelled bronze scabbard
a pallid snakeskin baldric
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Possessed of a flat impassivity, minute beads of shimmering amber gaze from the mock menacing visage of this recreation of the desert scourge, their muted gleam nearly lost within layer upon layer of plush, sapphire-hued fabric. Jutting outward from the pudgy body in a protrusion of tangled wire limbs, sinuous legs droop limply below the rotund mass, listless in their inability to convey the miniature insect from place to place. Woven into a simple loop, opalescent thread protrudes from the underside of the bulbous scarab, ensuring ease of secure placement upon any belt or garment. Nestled between defiantly poised mandibles, a simple bronze clasp allows for a daring hand to brave the voracious maw and deposit items within the depths of this rather ungainly pouch.
Reaction to putting items in/out: As your hand nears the maw of a sapphire scarab pouch, stuffed mandibles snap ferociously at your fingers in a futile attempt to rip and tear.
Ensorcelled bronze scabbard:
Flickers of sullen fire inundate line upon line of arcane script, the esoteric bindings given physical manifestation in the form of wending traceries and complex wharls kindled to a muted glower upon the surface of this side scabbard. Bereft of gleam or shine, grains of sand cling tenaciously to every contour of the weathered bronze in a patina of grime and grit, leaving naught but sigils and glyphs to smoulder amidst the enshrouding grip of ages come and gone. Bearing prominence of place at the mouth of the worn sheath, ruddy crimson illuminates the crudely-etched form of a leaping jackal, the sinuous logograph depicted with fangs bared in the rictus snarl of a predatorial final strike.
Sheathe reaction: Dulling to a sombre glower, the innumerable sigils upon an ensorcelled bronze scabbard grow quiescent as you entrust a keen, tempered scimitar once more to the sheath
Draw reaction: Sorcerous fire kindled anew blazes forth from the innumerable sigils upon an ensorcelled bronze scabbard as you draw a keen, tempered scimitar forth, the muted chime of its passage a grim herald of violence to come.
Luminous knapsack of the Everstar:
Rendered time and time again in exquisitely precise detail, crystalline constellations coalesce from myriad clusters of minute gemstones, solar splendour given physical expression upon the exterior of this sturdy knapsack. Seeming cast adrift upon sheets of undyed linen, luminescent galaxies blaze with ensorcelled light and warmth, the thousandfold hearts of tiny stars spilling forth the incapsulated radiance of that which rises and falls eternal to suffuse the surroundings in lucent resplendence . Deeply etched with the lines of a rising sun, bronze buckles replace bejewelled opulence upon the broad flap, ensuring that any contents remain snugly stored through any travel or tribulation that may come.
Reaction to putting item in: As you undo the bronze clasps holding a luminous knapsack of the Everstar closed, a visible ripple distorts the surroundings beneath the grasp of intense heat as you deposit a diminutive carrion flower within.
Diminutive carrion flower:
Wrapping about a central spadix, a broad spathe forms the main body of this obscure floral specimen: dark emerald blankets the outer layer of the deeply furrowed petal, melding into a rich inner burgundy that burrows into the core. A thick stem protrudes from the base of the flower, slightly curled. Decidedly smaller than the average specimen, the fully formed flower fits easily into the palm of one's hand.
Charred coalsteed (legendary):
Mount reaction: A charred coalsteed stiffens momentarily before acquiescing to your ascent onto his back, an immense heat flooding your body as you settle into the saddle.
Dismount: Warmth flees your body as you climb down from a charred coalsteed, the mighty beast winnowing as it adjusts to renewed comfort.
Petting: As your hand nears a charred coalsteed's glossy mane, immense heat wards you off as dark smoke explodes from the steed's nostrils.
Retaining the hardy scales of the desert serpents from which it was sourced, innumerable strips of
roughened snakeskin twine snugly about the reinforced shell of this baldric, only the barest hint of
dully-gleaming bone visible beneath the layers of enveloping flesh. Leeched of any and all
colouration that may once have been present, naught is left to besmirch the flawless expanse of
deathly pallour clinging in ethereal solemnity about the exterior of the broad scabbard in a grim
reminder of the Final Price made manifest, all life or vitality siphoned away to leave only an
ephemeral, glacial chill to suffuse the desiccated remnants. Meant to stretch easily over the
shoulders and secure across the chest with a wide bronze buckle, sturdy straps of softer leather
ensure ease of adjustment and wear in the heat of battle. Etched without flair or flourish, a single
logograph holds pride of place upon the throat of the sheath, the unmistakable stoop of the carrion
vulture rendered in the twisted lines and flowing curves of the tribal glyphs.
It has 150 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 4 pounds and 0 ounce(s).
It bears the distinctive mark of Ordruin, a troll leatherworker (a denizen).
A pallid snakeskin baldric is holding:
Nothing.
There and gone in but a fleeting moment of gelid sensation, an icy grip seems to settle about the
nape of your neck as you return a leaf-bladed ritual knife to a pallid snakeskin baldric, the blade
sliding home with nary a whisper.
Reaching back over one shoulder to seize the hilt of a leaf-bladed ritual knife, you are rewarded as
the upper portion of a pallid snakeskin baldric splits along one side, snakeskin and bone parting in
a macabre facsimile of a vicious grin to deliver the blade to your hand with a near-silent turn of
speed.
The doll is strange, it changes description when you shake:
Ghezavati villager in flawless miniature. No longer than two feet in length, the plump stuffing and
wooden frame blend seamlessly together, allowing the piece to stand without support or aid. Captured
in exquisite detail, the unliving face bespeaks solemnity and fatigue, bald head contrasting sharply
with the glimmering golden threads that twine into a magnificent flaxen beard. Tiny hands extend
from expertly depicted arms, yet the left is missing two fingers.
It has 90 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 3 pounds and 0 ounce(s).
It bears the distinctive mark of Therine (a denizen).
arms and legs and eyes and body twist into an entirely new yet not-quite whole form.
Ghezavati villager in flawless miniature. No longer than two feet in length, the plump stuffing and
wooden frame blend seamlessly together, allowing the piece to stand without support or aid. Captured
in exquisite detail, the unliving face bespeaks solemnity and fatigue, bald head contrasting sharply
with the glimmering golden threads that twine into a magnificent flaxen beard. Swaddled in layers of
cloth bandage, the doll's right arm terminates in a ragged stump.
It has 90 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 3 pounds and 0 ounce(s).
It bears the distinctive mark of Therine (a denizen).
Grains of fine sand fall from a bearded Ghezavati doll's miniature body as you turn it over and over
in your hands.
Ordruin, a troll leatherworker says, "Ah! Let me show you what I have!"
The pungi can attract snakes