Imbued Shroud/Spirits

The official GemStone IV encyclopedia.
< Imbued Shroud
Jump to navigation Jump to search

This page contains the whispered messaging and visual appearance of each of the various off-the-shelf spirits.

When viewed, the spirits will appear between a character's features and tattoos, like so:

Superimposed over XXX's form is the ghostly silhouette of a <race> <profession>, a <tone> expression on <his/her> face.

At T3 and above, an additional message is added.


Wild Krolvin Pirate

A grey marble statue:

Krolvin in appearance, the blue-toned marble arms of the statue clench a curved scimitar in one hand, the other filled with the crumpled vestiges of a faded map.  The statue's sharp features are chiseled in an expression of reckless abandon, his eyes shadowed by the torn leather tricorn adorning his braid-covered head.  Beneath his feet, various shells and sea glass fetishes have been proferred by unknown guests, nestled between scattered piles of obscure gold coins.
Catchin' attitude with me was an immediate tour of the underside of the plank.
Never felt comfortable anywhere but the open seas.
Blasted First Mate was after me treasure, but that secret died with me.
Splittin' the loot was always easy. Two fer me, one fer the crew.
Who needs empaths? Rum takes care of anythin' that don't kill ye!
Had a healthy purse on me head, but none dared take up the task!
Many a lass kept me bunk warm when in dock, but only one ever stayed when we set back out again.
Ah hope they put me out t'sea when the rot finally took me.
Me men, me ship, and her. No matter how much was in the coffers, ah was rich.

Worried Gnomish Matron

A red-streaked marble statue:

Gnomish in appearance, the diminutive statue's arms are outstretched in a posture of welcoming, her hands filled with a basket of provisions and woolen blankets.  The statue's stone face gazes out at the room with furrowed brows, a disapproving scowl traced across her lips.  Beneath her feet, piles of knitted clothing and thin twig switches have been proferred by unknown guests, nestled between crates of dried goods.
You should always pack an extra heavy cloak and a snack. Just in case.
Does it seem cold out here to you? You should dress warmer.
You're looking thin. Don't you ever eat?
I do hope you'll be careful. You know how I worry.
Is this what you always wear? Do you not have anything nicer?
You really need to work on your posture. You're going to get stuck in that pose!
I bet you've got a whole bushel of potatoes behind your ears. You need to wash better!
I can practically count your ribs! Please, eat something, for me if nothing else.
The last time... I really was sick... but nobody came. They didn't believe me.

Confused Sylvan Gardener

A pale cerulean marble statue:

The graceful form of the Sylvan statue kneels down before a ribbon-tied basket, a hand dipped into the freshly cut flowers left within the cushioned container.  The statue's other hand rests against a simple collar of woven paeline, the fabric and locks of marble hair obscuring the darker handprints left around her throat.  Beneath her feet, brightly colored bouquets of dried flora and fauna have been proferred by unknown guests, nestled between garden tools of steel and iron.
My garden was always my sanctuary, where I felt the safest.
Oh, this area would be much more cheery with some wildflowers, don't you think?
It's important to be very careful when cutting roses, both for the sake of the bush itself and your fingers!
When he would start yelling, I would head for the garden. His voice couldn't reach me there.
People complain about worms, but they're good for the soil.
Children? Who has time for such a thing? My garden was as alive as any child.
He accused me of hiding, and of course he was right. But we do what we must.
My garden grew full and lush from soil watered with my tears.
My garden was directly outside my windows, there to greet me each morning.

Venomous Dark Elf Assassin

An ashen marble statue:

The lithe Dark Elf statue blends with the shadows of the recess, his layered velvet cloak concealing a sharp-cut jaw clenched tightly, emphasizing the structure of his features.  Glinting points of metal peek out from the statue's form, the dimly lit lanterns swaying with the subtle breeze, obscuring examination of the chiseled form.  Beneath his feet, several obscure relics and rolled strips of parchment have been proferred by unknown guests, nestled between corked vials of viscous liquid.
I was deadlier than any plague, and twice as effective.
Constables, guards, militia... in the end, it was jealousy that finally got me.
I was finished, done. But they wouldn't permit me to rest, and turned me into bait.
The perfect death is one that the target never sees coming.
Keep your blades and your skills sharper than your target's.
The shadows are your best tool and your closest friend.
It was never about passion. Show me a passionate mark and I'll show you a fool.
I was tired. So tired. But they paid a heavy price for my head when they finally came.
I made sure to snap my dagger's blade against the last one's shield. It died alongside me. My only friend.

Defiant Aelotoi Slave

An immaculate white marble statue:

The winged Aelotoi statue stands fully upright, her posture rigid as her chin rises above a steel-forged shackle across her throat.  Her marble hands grasp the heavy iron chains wrapped around her arms and legs, her fingers grasping a thin blade discreetly tucked between the links, the faint glint flashing between the dancling flames of a nearby lantern.  Beneath her feet, a collection of sheet music and poetry have been proferred by unknown guests, nestled between haphazard piles of broken metal rings.
They could force me to my knees, but they never made me kneel.
They could never crush my spirit, no matter what tortures they invented.
I was always free in my mind. They couldn't take that from me.
I never forgot who I was, and never let them define me.
They couldn't steal my pride. It kept me on my feet when nothing else could.
My tears were always silent. I refused to give them the satisfaction.
I made music in my head to escape when it all got to be too much.
I won in the end. I died knowing I never betrayed who I was.
They shattered the bones in my face, but I grinned at them anyway. They couldn't break me.


Wary Human Thief

An ashen marble statue:

The mid-sized humanoid statue gazes out from beneath its velvet shroud, the masculine features chiseled to appear alert, his arms held up to guard against an invisible foe.  A myriad of markings have been carved into his skin, then rubbed with kohl to imitate tattoos, the designs leading downward to a noose tightly grasped within his hand.  Beneath his feet, a coil of rope and small sharply honed blades have been profferred by unknown guests, nestled between small pouches filled with silver coins.
I learned early on that nobody else was going to look out for me.
I was always careful to avoid getting too attached.
'Larceny' was just a word made up by those too weak to hold onto their coin.
Took one job too many, but always knew how the end would come.
They tried to judge me. Only fools preach about 'right' and 'wrong.'
Had a few 'friends,' but no sign of them when the gallows went up.
Where was he when I was being strung up? No sign of him in the crowd.
One thing's certain: I was never bored.
Did the bastard get what he deserved?

Melancholy Giantwoman Poetess

A grey marble statue:

Giantkin in appearance, the feminine curves of the statue lead to a pair of outstretched arms, each grasping a momento tightly between her fingers.  The statue's stone face, turned downward in a moment of reflection, is softened by a rivulet of translucent glass that traverses down her cheek, leaving glass droplets to rest against her collarbone.  Beneath her feet, various jewel-set rings and sheets of tear-stained vellum have been proferred by unknown guests, nestled between bouquets of dried flora.


Superimposed over XXX's form is the ghostly silhouette of a giantwoman poet, an melancholy expression on her face.  As you watch, she blinks rapidly, a large tear forming in one eye and running down her cheek.
Is my journal still buried beneath the snow, I wonder?
I remember the feel of the breeze through my hair.
Did she ever find another love?
What use is joy when it is so easily shattered?
Her arms were the only place that I ever felt warm.
The cold... it took my breath, but I waited for her return.
Patience brought her to me, then took me from her.
She was my muse, and the light of my life... what became of her?
The echoes of her voice still ring in my ears.

Calculating Elven Soldier

An immaculate white marble statue:

The tall elven-like statue stands uniformly upright, his arms held out with a shield and spear at the ready, his eyes scanning the room.  The marble of the statue's skin has been marred to depict wounds of battle, one of which has been bandaged with a handkerchief embroidered by a border of roses.  Beneath his feet, a crude token of elven heraldry and a broken vaalin locket have been profferred by unknown guests, nestled between ribbon-adorned medals.


Superimposed over XXX's form is the ghostly silhouette of an elven soldier, a calculating expression on his face.  As you watch, he rolls his shoulders forward, then back, straightening his stance.
I loved her, in my own way, but knew she deserved more than I could give.
My blood was not noble, but my deeds on the battlefield were.
I learned a lot about myself standing watch in the stillness.
I've witnessed ugly fights, chaotic brawls... and beautiful wars.
My commanding officer taught me how to fight, how to win, and then how to die.
How was I supposed to respect someone without discipline?
'Vain,' they labeled me, but I always understood my place.
When my time came I met it head on, and bought my unit time to retreat.
Did the bards tell my story? How was I remembered?

Intense Dwarven Priest

A cerulean marble statue:

The stout form of the dwarven statue stands defiantly within the recess, his hands clasped together in a motion of perpetual prayer.  A strand of wooden prayerbeads are wrapped along one arm, the other covered in a sigil-etched vambrace of bright steel.  Beneath his feet, various religious symbols and vials of colorful glass have been proffered by unknown guests, nestled between a battleworn mace and a pelt of thick bear fur.


Superimposed over XXX's form is the ghostly silhouette of a dwarven priest, an intense expression on his face.  As you watch, he closes his eyes and bows his head in prayer, his lips moving soundlessly.
I lived my life righteously, and did not deserve the end I received.
I was never all that comfortable in the colder climates.
My brother died young in the mines, but I was called in another direction.
I can still hear the sound of his screams, but I have no regrets.
My convictions never needed embellishment.
I saw wonders and horrors in my years, but my faith guided me through.
I fought when I had to. I wonder what became of my mace?
I held fast, even when they tried to force me to forsake my faith.
I know that she wanted more, but my faith always came first.

Unhinged Halfling Berserker

A red-streaked marble statue:

Halfling in appearance, the muscular statue's arms are outstretched in a posture of attack, her fingers curled in claw-like fashion.  The statue's stone face, tilted upwards in a guttural scream, is covered in streaks of sanguine paint that highlight the shards of ruby that comprise her eyes.  Beneath her feet, cracked hunting horns and pieces of bone have been proferred by unknown guests, nestled between less savory spoils of war.
They always underestimated me... and I always made them pay for it!
Learned the hard way that talk is cheap.
My trainer taught me never to try thinking and fighting at the same time.
Never even saw the last hit coming! Blasted back-shooters...
Rage guided my axe, and they fell by the hundreds before me.
My axe was ugly to look at, but had plenty of notches on its hilt.
Learned quick that being short gave you some particularly effective targets.
Anyone that mouthed off to me got pounded into kumys right quick.
Never really saw the point of fighting 'fair.'