View source for Enruned gold signet ring set with a brilliant fire pearl

{{H4HItem
|short=an enruned gold signet ring set with a brilliant fire pearl
|details=This item originates from a group of enforcers of Chaston Kestrel.
|loresong=As your voice rises in song, the ring responds by vibrating slightly. The world shifts and when it reforms, you are in a different place.

A human man sits at the head of a table in a chamber lined with marble pillars. With a quill, he scratches his signature onto parchments, making his way through a pile stacked in front of him. As he completes each one, an assistant removes it, blotting the wet ink before rolling it into a tight tube and tying it with a red ribbon. When the last ones are placed into a pile along the length of the table, the man, his circlet of yellow gold shining in the candlelight, leans back in his chair and clasps his hands in front of him. He speaks a single word and a row of darkly garbed men step from behind the pillars, taking their places along the length of the table. Soundlessly, each picks up a number of scrolls from the table, their gold signet rings flashing in the light.

A whipping wind blows outside an inn in a small village. Pedestrians, the cowls of their cloaks pulled low over their faces, struggle through the street, some making their way onto the inn's porch and through the entrance. Your attention is drawn to a space just to the left of the front door and, as you watch, a darkly garbed man appears in the act of moving forward to nail a parchment to the inn's wall. The wind does not seem to disturb him, although his dusky grey robes and cloak flap violently around him. A human approaches, stabbing a finger at the parchment and speaking angrily. The mysterious man turns to him and pulls his sleeve away from his hand, revealing a gold signet ring. He says nothing as he stares coolly at his adversary. The objector's mouth snaps shut and he seems to shrink as he hurriedly makes his way off the porch.

As your voice rises in song, the ring responds by vibrating slightly. A jumbled mass of moving images fills your mind. A harrowed group of elves, marching toward a dense forest ahead of a darkly garbed man. A wailing woman, gesturing at her burning home as a mysterious man strides away, disappearing with a light touch to his hand. A volcano, smoke rising silently from its summit.

Several darkly garbed men gather in a darkened hall, the whites of their eyes gleaming in the torchlight seeping through a nearby doorway. Just beyond, a young man kneels on a pillow of rich red and gold, a cleric facing him with a golden circlet raised overhead. The anonymous men exchange wary looks as the priest completes his blessing and lays the crown upon the young man's head. One by one, the silent watchers disappear with a light touch to their gold signet rings, as the celebrants in the chamber beyond burst into cheers.

A young man crowned with a circlet of gold stands on a raised dais, his brow furrowed as he listens to a petitioner before him. The subject, a middle-aged man weathered beyond his years, gestures at a group of darkly garbed men who cluster between two stern statues. The young man passes a hand across his face, shaking his head with a look of disappointment. He takes a dark-stained box from an attendant and steps down from the dais to mingle among the objects of his displeasure. From each man he accepts the reluctant gift of a gold signet ring and places them into the wooden box.

One by one, the men turn to leave the room, touching their throats and fading into the background as they go. A troubled shadow passes over the visage of the emperor, but he masks it with a regal smile as the box of rings is carried from the hall.
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