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Ironbeard - Giftmas 2013
Daingean
Xanhaal, probably.
This topic doesn't exist yet?
And the old one has a date, so it'd be weird to resurrect it?
Well!
I got.. a giftbag with two red bulls eyes, also known as the least desirable bag/chest item for my character, ever. Seriously, the only time I use willpower is to hunt for foci.
I gave 'em to a shaman! Giftmas spirit, man!
Post your swaggoodies?
Proudly fighting against Greytolia since the [approximately] 3/1/2010 at 18:00.
0
Comments
Abhorash says, "Ve'kahi has proved that even bastards can earn their place."
Thanks Mrs Ironbeard! Uh I think.
[spoiler] Tropically-heated office of the Quartermaster.
Inescapable warmth permeates this room, seeming to emanate from the very walls. Slathered in rich golden and
earthy tones with sparse vibrant greens sprayed out in lines, these walls bear a grainy texture in the lower
parts, underlined by sandy and muddy colours. Framing the western wall are two large, yawning windows that
stretch from the dark redwood flooring nearly up to the pale ceiling, and a looming fireplace that is centred
by these massive panes. Readily regaling a perfect view of the City of Spinesreach, another series of southern
windows complete the panorama from the Basilica to the gates and outer fields. Assorted customary office
furniture and necessities are neatly distributed throughout the chamber, albeit blemished by peculiar scratch
and claw marks. Papers neighboured with inkwells sit in perfect piles here and in slapdash stacks there, some
blown over, others weighted down by small and round, orange-like painted stones. A sigil in the shape of a
small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. There are 8 luscious lemons in 8 stacks here. A non-descript
bucket is present. A fluffy jade-green towel lies here. A conscripted Spirean soldier coldly scans the area
for threats. An enormous fireplace has been built into the western wall. A low wooden table is here, a seat
atop a massive black cushion has been placed at it.
You see a single exit leading east (closed pine door).
Your pose is currently set to:
Perched atop his massive cushion, Ferrik is half splayed across the table littered with paperwork, furiously scribbling away.
A large, salted ham appears in the air before you.
You blink.
You have emoted: Ferrik ceases his furious scribblings and gingerly reaches out with a single grasping claw.
Swinging into view, it hangs there in the air, always just out of your reach.
You have emoted: Work forgotten, Ferrik's tongue lolls out with effort as he swipes at the alluring meat before him. Jerking forward, he loses his perch and his bulk slams down hard on his impromptu desk, eyes still not leaving their prize.
The ham dangles and bounces like a cavorting fairy. It is decidedly more mobile at its peak than elsewhere, as if being guided by an unseen hand, a playful one.
You have emoted: Tail irritably flicking, Ferrik tries again. With large jaws unhinged, the reptile flops up and chomps at empty air - only barely bumping into the ham. "Hrngh! OH! HAM!" the crocodile yelps as he once more hits the desk with a thud.
You have emoted: Ferrik's snout briefly wrinkles as he sniffs, "Not funny.."
"Well done, very well done," you hear, the voice sourceless, but everywhere at once. The ham falls from the sky like a bird being shot, and then just sits there, being hamlike.
You have emoted: Taken by surprise at the sound of the voice, Ferrik's eyes widen as he calculates his next move carefully. But at the drop of the shank, instinct or hunger, or whatever takes over and his large frame darts forward, scooping up the ham quite nimbly. With the meat still perched between his teeth, the crocodile gauges his office carefully. "Th.. thanks?" he inquires uncertainly.
Silly crocodile! The ham is still on the ground in front of you.
You have emoted: "Wha- the!?" Ferrik exclaims as he blinks and notices the ham still in its place. Audibly, the reptile smacks, running his tongue along his teeth, almost certain he could taste the salt.
Tropically-heated office of the Quartermaster.
Inescapable warmth permeates this room, seeming to emanate from the very walls. Slathered in rich golden and
earthy tones with sparse vibrant greens sprayed out in lines, these walls bear a grainy texture in the lower
parts, underlined by sandy and muddy colours. Framing the western wall are two large, yawning windows that
stretch from the dark redwood flooring nearly up to the pale ceiling, and a looming fireplace that is centred
by these massive panes. Readily regaling a perfect view of the City of Spinesreach, another series of southern
windows complete the panorama from the Basilica to the gates and outer fields. Assorted customary office
furniture and necessities are neatly distributed throughout the chamber, albeit blemished by peculiar scratch
and claw marks. Papers neighboured with inkwells sit in perfect piles here and in slapdash stacks there, some
blown over, others weighted down by small and round, orange-like painted stones. A sigil in the shape of a
small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. There are 8 luscious lemons in 8 stacks here. A non-descript
bucket is present. A fluffy jade-green towel lies here. A conscripted Spirean soldier coldly scans the area
for threats. An enormous fireplace has been built into the western wall. A low wooden table is here, a seat
atop a massive black cushion has been placed at it. A salted ham is here.
You see a single exit leading east (closed pine door).
This ham is well preserved with a thick crust of salt. It definately needs some preparation before it will be
ready to eat.
It has 6 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 2 pounds and 0 ounce(s).
You gasp at a salted ham in surprise.
You have emoted: Ferrik clambers down from his massive cushion seat, carefully sidestepping the ham before gingerly nudging it.
The hunk of meat rolls over with an audible 'squish', leaving behind a small ring of salt. Uncooked, the raw hunk still smells tantalizing.
You have emoted: "Well mister ham.." Ferrik picks up, lifting his maw to inspect his office before continuing, "... looks like it's just you and me now!" he enthuses as he sternly beholds the shank, licking it before retrieving it, lest it be a mirage.
You pick up a salted ham.
The ham is real. Very real, pleasingly weighty in your hands. You hear the faintest tones of a feminine giggle, but then your office is silent again.
You have emoted: With any suspicions cast aside, Ferrik proceeds to very slowly chew on his newly acquired ham. Only the barely perceptible giggles cause him pause as he shifts his gaze about the room. "Th..thank you? Uh. Missus Ironbeard? Merry Celesmas, yes." he confirms, nodding at himself until he continues chewing again.
Your pose is now set as:
Surroundings completely forgotten, Ferrik is absorbed by a large salted ham, chewing it with delight by the fireplace.
Later:
"ham69154" a nibbled-upon salted ham.
This ham is large and uncooked, preserved with a thick crust of salt. It's mangled here and there, someone's
pointy tooth marks dug into it from all directions.
It has 156 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 2 pounds and 0 ounce(s).
FOREVER MINE! [/spoiler]
(Walrus and I were friends you see)
So no one got anything useful?
I wish the eyes/hearts would go away. I have had nearly 100 over the years in my shops and I just end up ditching them on newbies.
Although freebies are freebies
Abhorash says, "Ve'kahi has proved that even bastards can earn their place."
Nothing is going to get better. It's not.”
― Dr. Seuss, The Lorax
I just got a language token! Which is awesome, cause now I'm only two languages away from having Mastered everything on HELP LINGUISTICS (and one or two more), but what happens if I finish them out and get another language token from somewhere? Can you trade those in or sell them to someone else?
-----------------------------------------------------------------
(The Front Line): Daskalos says, "<-- artifacts."
Thousands of tiny iron rings link together in a flawless pattern of sturdy metal to form the fabric
of this heavy giftbag, rattling together at every movement with a noise like falling rain.
Skillfully applied colour flows across the face of the bag's surface, forming the carefully rendered
shape of a tall, square iron tower with windows and a door that open ominously into an interior
concealed by shadow. A thin cord of some surprisingly strong, obscure material forms a drawstring
for the bag, ornate little tassels adorning its ends.
It has 2 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 22 pound(s).
A heavy iron-link giftbag is holding:
"chocolate287828" a caramel chocolate
It is holding 1 objects.
I guess it's true what they say -- Ironbearding is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get. Except when it's chocolates. Then you get chocolates.
probe giftbag
Thousands of tiny iron rings link together in a flawless pattern of sturdy metal to form the fabric of this heavy giftbag, rattling together at every movement with a noise like falling rain. Skillfully applied colour flows across the face of the bag's surface, forming the carefully rendered shape of a tall, square iron tower with windows and a door that open ominously into an interior concealed by shadow. A thin cord of some surprisingly strong, obscure material forms a drawstring for the bag, ornate little tassels adorning its ends.
It has 2 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 22 pound(s).
A heavy iron-link giftbag is holding:
4656 gold sovereigns.
BOOYAH.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
(The Front Line): Daskalos says, "<-- artifacts."
i am rapture coder