Twilight Pauldrons
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He'd been speaking for the front-line battle-mage. In his old green robe, as usual. Nothing showy, nothing over-decorated. Just a plain green robe. Like a barbarian might wear, they said, when they thought he wasn't listening. | He'd been speaking for the front-line battle-mage. In his old green robe, as usual. Nothing showy, nothing over-decorated. Just a plain green robe. Like a barbarian might wear, they said, when they thought he wasn't listening. | ||
***And hand raised to the Net of Heavens, and pull down the power...*** | <nowiki>***</nowiki>''And hand raised to the Net of Heavens, and pull down the power...''<nowiki>***</nowiki> | ||
The smoke had been choking, he remembered. Maybe some beggarwood had got in to the pile outside? Then, of course, the messenger had pushed his way in and suddenly a simple debate became a tumult. She'd called for silence, and he'd read the message. When she asked: "Who's with us?", he'd clasped his hands in agreement to what had become a unanimous decision. After a short pause for effect, of course. | The smoke had been choking, he remembered. Maybe some beggarwood had got in to the pile outside? Then, of course, the messenger had pushed his way in and suddenly a simple debate became a tumult. She'd called for silence, and he'd read the message. When she asked: "Who's with us?", he'd clasped his hands in agreement to what had become a unanimous decision. After a short pause for effect, of course. | ||
***And turn, and swing, and drive the orc away...*** | <nowiki>***</nowiki>''And turn, and swing, and drive the orc away...''<nowiki>***</nowiki> | ||
He'd gone outside, called over an old friend from the Brass Coast to help his shrug his old green robe off. To reveal his full Mage Armour beneath. He rather suspected no one realised he always wore it to Senate meetings. Not because he thought he might need the extra power, but to remind himself that he was a battle-mage, first and foremost. | He'd gone outside, called over an old friend from the Brass Coast to help his shrug his old green robe off. To reveal his full Mage Armour beneath. He rather suspected no one realised he always wore it to Senate meetings. Not because he thought he might need the extra power, but to remind himself that he was a battle-mage, first and foremost. | ||
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Here is where he's most at home. To feel the touch of perfection in battle. To strive for arete over the bodies of the Empire's enemies. | Here is where he's most at home. To feel the touch of perfection in battle. To strive for arete over the bodies of the Empire's enemies. | ||
***And that orc falls into two others, and you've time for a smile before the next one...*** | <nowiki>***</nowiki>''And that orc falls into two others, and you've time for a smile before the next one...''<nowiki>***</nowiki> | ||
</ic> | </ic> | ||
Revision as of 15:01, 3 February 2013
Description
Purified with beggar's lye, the materials used to craft twilight pauldrons are carefully coloured and woven with threads dyed with iridescent gloaming. One of the most complex suits of mage armour that an artisan can create, it greatly increases the number of spells the wearer can cast making it a powerful adjunct to implements such as the Staff of the Magi or the Woundbinder.
Rules
- Form: Mage Armour.
- Effect: While wearing this mage armour you gain three additional points of personal mana.
- Materials: Crafting twilight pauldrons requires twenty-three measures of iridescent gloaming, nine measures of dragonbone, seven measures of beggar's lye and three measures of ambergelt. It takes one month to make one of these items.
He'd been speaking for the front-line battle-mage. In his old green robe, as usual. Nothing showy, nothing over-decorated. Just a plain green robe. Like a barbarian might wear, they said, when they thought he wasn't listening.
***And hand raised to the Net of Heavens, and pull down the power...***
The smoke had been choking, he remembered. Maybe some beggarwood had got in to the pile outside? Then, of course, the messenger had pushed his way in and suddenly a simple debate became a tumult. She'd called for silence, and he'd read the message. When she asked: "Who's with us?", he'd clasped his hands in agreement to what had become a unanimous decision. After a short pause for effect, of course.
***And turn, and swing, and drive the orc away...***
He'd gone outside, called over an old friend from the Brass Coast to help his shrug his old green robe off. To reveal his full Mage Armour beneath. He rather suspected no one realised he always wore it to Senate meetings. Not because he thought he might need the extra power, but to remind himself that he was a battle-mage, first and foremost.
Here is where he's most at home. To feel the touch of perfection in battle. To strive for arete over the bodies of the Empire's enemies.
***And that orc falls into two others, and you've time for a smile before the next one...***