Vermilion spidersilk greatcloak

The official GemStone IV encyclopedia.
Revision as of 00:27, 28 November 2019 by ECHEAUX (talk | contribs) (Added template)
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)
Jump to navigation Jump to search

This item was a prize from the Hunt for History.

Item

a vermilion spidersilk greatcloak

Show

Dark red spidersilk, shot with darker threads, falls in loose folds from the shoulders of this greatcloak. Intricate embroidery edges the front panels and back of the garment in a pattern that combines several images from the forest -- acorns, leaves, ivy, and pinecones. A deep hood provides protection from the elements and the greatcloak is fastened at each shoulder by flat, silver squares.

Details

This was said to be a cloak used in the Riverwood celebration of Jes'Tamaline Night.

Loresong

Your eyes grow heavy and you allow them to slowly close. Your stomach lurches as you are pulled forward suddenly, rushing air sweeping over your face.

When you open your eyes, you feel no corporeal form. You rush over a stream, so close you dip beneath the water occasionally as you are propelled forward with little effort. The water sparkles like diamonds and you move faster and faster, passing herds of deer drinking from the water, schools of fish swimming over the pebbled bottom, swaying clusters of flowers guarding the bank. It is as if you know the stream's course before it does, turning and rising and falling with every meander it makes, always watching its flow and life as it moves through the trees of a forest.

With no warning, you suddenly rise far above the stream and the forest, so that the water becomes a ribbon of blue peeking from beneath a carpet of verdant foliage. A voice echoes through the air, "Listen to the rush of water through the stream. Listen and you will hear Jes'Tamaline."

Your eyes grow heavy and you allow them to slowly close.

When you feel refreshed, you open your eyes again to find yourself at the edge of a forest, clustered with many young human women wrapped in vermilion greatcloaks, their hair plaited into tight braids that fall down their backs. You look down and see that you are wearing the same deeply hued cloak of spidersilk and, touching your hair, feel a mass of braided hair. In a nearby clearing, the exuberant celebrants of a grand festival sing, dance, and bedeck each other with garlands of fresh flowers. You pull the spidersilk fabric close around you as you search the crowds for a familiar face. A dark-haired woman smiles and waves to you and your fellow maidens, their faces full of cheer yet pulled with worry around their eyes. Heartened, you face the woods and plunge in, ready to face a night alone among the trees and woodland creatures.

Your eyes grow heavy and you allow them to slowly close.

When you feel refreshed, you open your eyes again to find yourself deep within the forest, cloaked in darkness where the moonlight cannot penetrate the dense foliage. You do not sense the nearness of humans, but feel that you are watched all the same.

The forest blurs and you feel time passing quickly. When it returns to normal, you find yourself seated on the bank of a stream, tending a small fire over which a skinned hare is roasting on a spit clumsily made of stripped green branches. The hare looks delectably done, and you remove it from the fire. At the same time, you catch sight of a silver wolf hovering at the edge of the firelight's glow, its eyes reflecting the bright flames as it stares at you.

Your eyes grow heavy and you allow them to slowly close.

When you feel refreshed, you open your eyes again to find yourself face to face with the wolf. It widens its jaws, revealing the sharp points of fangs as it curls its lip at you. Drawing back with fear, you turn your face to the sky, the starlight twinkling through the trees, oblivious to your predicament.

A sudden disorientation overtakes you as you leave the body of the maiden and rise rapidly into the night sky, resuming the rushing feeling of travel you experienced at the opening of your song. You turn your attention toward the stream below, halting as quickly as you once moved. Gathering the air and moonlight to you, you rush downward, the trees drawing closer and developing the detail of individual leaves. Plunging through the branches and into the clearing, you explode as you reach the ground, scattering the light of the stars, the moons and the dancing fire over the fearful young maiden and pained wolf before you.

Your eyes grow heavy and you allow them to slowly close.

When you feel refreshed, you open your eyes again to find yourself blinking into the starlight, momentarily blinded by flashes of light that leap beyond your vision. When you look to the wolf again, you find it has crouched at the edge of the stream, licking at a festering wound on its paw. Your fear forgotten, you reach forward, laying a hand upon the soft fur of the wolf's head and offering it the hare's haunch you are still holding. The wolf casts a grateful look at you before grabbing the meat between its teeth. While it is focused on its meal, you gently take its paw and dip it in the stream, allowing the flowing waters to cleanse the wound as best it can.

Your eyes grow heavy and you allow them to slowly close.

When you feel refreshed, you open your eyes to bright sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead. You are lying by the stream, wrapped tightly in your greatcloak next to the ashes of your nighttime fire. Confused, you sit up, looking about for evidence of the evening before. Near a wide-trunked oak, you catch sight of the silver wolf, patiently sitting and watching you with calm eyes. Seeing you awake, the wolf dips its muzzle once toward the ground, never taking its gaze from your face. It rises and turns to the forest, trotting away without the smallest sign of a limp.

You turn back to the stream, gazing into its crystal depths as it rushes along its course. You touch your face, unsure if you remember the evening with accuracy, but still sure that nothing ordinary occurred. You dip a few fingers into the cool water before gathering your greatcloak about you and making preparations to leave the forest and return to your home.

Your eyes grow heavy and you allow them to slowly close. Your stomach lurches as you are pulled forward suddenly, rushing air sweeping over your face.

When you feel refreshed, you open your eyes to find yourself far above the stream and the forest, so that the water appears a ribbon of blue peeking from beneath a carpet of verdant foliage. A voice echoes through the air, "Listen to the rush of water through the stream. Listen and you will hear Jes'Tamaline."