Post by L.A.C.R.I.M.O.S.A on May 29, 2007 19:27:01 GMT -5
Name: "Ohtar Dagnir" [Warrior's Bane, Bane of Warrior]
Physical Description: A thick, opaque liquid that is as completely colorless and odorless in appearance as water. It is carried in a small wine-skin made of very resilient dragon hide which is deep green in color, covered in numerous but tiny patches of green scales.
Enchantments: This is an extremely potent poison and acid that will eat its way through just about any surface that has not been specially enchanted to deflect its effects. When in contact with flesh, it will burn right through the surface and into the bloodstream where, if left unattended long enough, will cause temporary but very severe paralysis. It has been for several purposes, but it has mainly been used to coat the blades of weapons so that while piercing the heart, it will completely terminate the heartbeat of the victim and lead to inevitable death.
Any other info: This is a specially made and highly lethal concoction for Ithilwen herself, and it was created by a notorious apothecary back in her homelands of Celebarda. Alone, "Ohtar Dagnir" is completely harmless, often used in drinks or various foods for extra flavor. However, it is only when mixed with the primary feather and untainted blood of an avariel that the potential fatality of this poison goes into effect, but other than that, it is rendered utterly useless.
The shrill and melodious sound of a bell above the door voiced itself above the miscellaneous shouts and mutterings of a mundane crowd outside the shop as a lone, tall silhouette, adorned with two long, narrow ears, stalked through the doorway with steps of gossamer proportion. Two eyes of the coldest of blue and a knee-length curtain of pale, silver hair revealed the identity of none other than Ithilwen Nim'Draug, clad in her usual attire of a white, sleeveless turtleneck, hardy black gloves, khaki pants, and long, leathery boots. She let her hand drop from the door handle slowly and eased it gently to her side, not flinching in the slightest when the door of the shop shrieked loudly in protest and ended with a sharp bang, allowing only the muffles shouts and calls of the crowd to be heard above the otherwise complete silence.
A few glances were spared on the avariel woman's part as she loosely examined the various items on a few nearby shelves, stooping occasionally for a vial or two to compensate for unnatural height as she gradually made her way to the front counter.
A single, silver bell sat atop the dusty surface of the counter, and the woman glanced around for the shopkeeper, turning back eventually upon seeing nothing but the random items of the store.
Ping!
A gloved hand reached out suddenly and tapped the silver bell once on the head , returning to its owners cheek for support as the other drummed its fingers rapidly but patiently on the counter top, minuscule clouds of gray dust being cast into the air in the process and lingering momentarily in stale air. A furtive examination of the creases in her glove occupied Ithilwen as she awaited the arrival of the shopkeeper, the parchment containing her desired purchase and its information tucked safely away in the depths of a pocket on her khaki pants.
Physical Description: A thick, opaque liquid that is as completely colorless and odorless in appearance as water. It is carried in a small wine-skin made of very resilient dragon hide which is deep green in color, covered in numerous but tiny patches of green scales.
Enchantments: This is an extremely potent poison and acid that will eat its way through just about any surface that has not been specially enchanted to deflect its effects. When in contact with flesh, it will burn right through the surface and into the bloodstream where, if left unattended long enough, will cause temporary but very severe paralysis. It has been for several purposes, but it has mainly been used to coat the blades of weapons so that while piercing the heart, it will completely terminate the heartbeat of the victim and lead to inevitable death.
Any other info: This is a specially made and highly lethal concoction for Ithilwen herself, and it was created by a notorious apothecary back in her homelands of Celebarda. Alone, "Ohtar Dagnir" is completely harmless, often used in drinks or various foods for extra flavor. However, it is only when mixed with the primary feather and untainted blood of an avariel that the potential fatality of this poison goes into effect, but other than that, it is rendered utterly useless.
~*~
The shrill and melodious sound of a bell above the door voiced itself above the miscellaneous shouts and mutterings of a mundane crowd outside the shop as a lone, tall silhouette, adorned with two long, narrow ears, stalked through the doorway with steps of gossamer proportion. Two eyes of the coldest of blue and a knee-length curtain of pale, silver hair revealed the identity of none other than Ithilwen Nim'Draug, clad in her usual attire of a white, sleeveless turtleneck, hardy black gloves, khaki pants, and long, leathery boots. She let her hand drop from the door handle slowly and eased it gently to her side, not flinching in the slightest when the door of the shop shrieked loudly in protest and ended with a sharp bang, allowing only the muffles shouts and calls of the crowd to be heard above the otherwise complete silence.
A few glances were spared on the avariel woman's part as she loosely examined the various items on a few nearby shelves, stooping occasionally for a vial or two to compensate for unnatural height as she gradually made her way to the front counter.
A single, silver bell sat atop the dusty surface of the counter, and the woman glanced around for the shopkeeper, turning back eventually upon seeing nothing but the random items of the store.
Ping!
A gloved hand reached out suddenly and tapped the silver bell once on the head , returning to its owners cheek for support as the other drummed its fingers rapidly but patiently on the counter top, minuscule clouds of gray dust being cast into the air in the process and lingering momentarily in stale air. A furtive examination of the creases in her glove occupied Ithilwen as she awaited the arrival of the shopkeeper, the parchment containing her desired purchase and its information tucked safely away in the depths of a pocket on her khaki pants.
