Item:Thin grey cloak (2): Difference between revisions
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{{Item |
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|noun=cloak |
|noun=cloak |
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|look=Though otherwise very plain in design, the garment bears a deeply cowled hood with an additional piece of fabric attached to its lower bottom half, further allowing for obfuscation of the wearer's facial features. The small pewter clasp is unadorned on its outer surface, though a simple closed eye design is etched into its reverse. |
|look=Though otherwise very plain in design, the garment bears a deeply cowled hood with an additional piece of fabric attached to its lower bottom half, further allowing for obfuscation of the wearer's facial features. The small pewter clasp is unadorned on its outer surface, though a simple closed eye design is etched into its reverse. |
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|type=clothing, container, magic, verby, thief style |
|type=clothing, container, magic, verby, thief style |
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|wearloc=shoulders |
|wearloc=shoulders |
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|weight=50 |
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|sourcetype=- |
|sourcetype=- |
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|rare=yes |
|rare=yes |
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|fname=No |
|fname=No |
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}} |
}} |
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==Cloak Of Damaris== |
==Cloak Of Damaris== |
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Folklore holds that Damaris himself set a blessing in the fabric of this cloak, that any Thief who does not wish to be found remain so, as long as night's dark mantle cloaks Elanthia. |
Folklore holds that [[Damaris]] himself set a blessing in the fabric of this cloak, that any Thief who does not wish to be found remain so, as long as night's dark mantle cloaks Elanthia. |
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==Study== |
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Looking at your cloak, you feel certain that you could: |
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SHAKE, HUG, PULL, WAVE, KISS and RUB it. |
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You also believe you could TURN it to hide your features, and possibly your own movements from prying eyes, if the conditions are right. |
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==Evoke== |
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You stride boldly through the market plaza, as if you have every right to be there. |
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A mounted patrol of guardsmen thunder by you, the wind of their movement stirring the thin folds of your grey cloak. |
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"The artifact *will* be found, or the Mayor will have our heads! Do you hear, leave no stone unturned!" |
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One guardsman catches your eye. You smile and salute him jauntily, adjusting the lootsack tied to your belt to better distribute its weight. As the last light of the sunlight fades and the sky turns the color of spilled ink, you whistle a snatch of a nightingale's song. Night is here in earnest now, and the night belongs to you. |
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Latest revision as of 09:12, 29 June 2014
- This item is incomplete, which means that while it is not a stub, it still lacks certain data or information.
- Item Type, Infobox entry on internal size
- Please see Category:Incomplete items for more items that need updating.
| thin grey cloak (2) | |
|---|---|
| Look: | Though otherwise very plain in design, the garment bears a deeply cowled hood with an additional piece of fabric attached to its lower bottom half, further allowing for obfuscation of the wearer's facial features. The small pewter clasp is unadorned on its outer surface, though a simple closed eye design is etched into its reverse. |
| Weight: | 50 stones |
| Metal: | Unknown |
| Appraised Cost: | Unknown |
| Properties: |
|
| Dimensions: | ? length x ? width x ? height |
| Capacity: | ? length x ? width x ? height (? stones) |
| Sources: | Source is Guildfest 412/Auction |
- There are other pages that use the name "thin grey cloak." Follow the link for more details.
Cloak Of Damaris
Folklore holds that Damaris himself set a blessing in the fabric of this cloak, that any Thief who does not wish to be found remain so, as long as night's dark mantle cloaks Elanthia.
Study
Looking at your cloak, you feel certain that you could:
SHAKE, HUG, PULL, WAVE, KISS and RUB it.
You also believe you could TURN it to hide your features, and possibly your own movements from prying eyes, if the conditions are right.
Evoke
You stride boldly through the market plaza, as if you have every right to be there.
A mounted patrol of guardsmen thunder by you, the wind of their movement stirring the thin folds of your grey cloak.
"The artifact *will* be found, or the Mayor will have our heads! Do you hear, leave no stone unturned!"
One guardsman catches your eye. You smile and salute him jauntily, adjusting the lootsack tied to your belt to better distribute its weight. As the last light of the sunlight fades and the sky turns the color of spilled ink, you whistle a snatch of a nightingale's song. Night is here in earnest now, and the night belongs to you.