Ad placeholder
A Plan for Chaos: Difference between revisions
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
No edit summary |
No edit summary |
||
| Line 3: | Line 3: | ||
| controller icon = Book Note C Unfaded.png | | controller icon = Book Note C Unfaded.png | ||
| icon = Book Note C Item Icon.png | | icon = Book Note C Item Icon.png | ||
| description = | | description = '''A Plan for Chaos''' is the writer's dream for [[Baldur's Gate]]. | ||
| quote = A plain, unadorned note. | | quote = A plain, unadorned note. | ||
| book author = Orin | | book author = Orin | ||
| book text = How weakly the city slumbers above, safe behind its walls. It forgets what lurks below. It must be reminded. | | book text = How weakly the city slumbers above, safe behind its walls. It forgets what lurks below. It must be reminded. | ||
If the tyrant wishes them to suckle his accursed teat, I can make them crave it. My sweet assassins set to stalk their hearths and stifle their throats. My changelings will turn the very face of hope against them. Master choking apprentice, father hacking down son. | If the tyrant wishes them to suckle his accursed teat, I can make them crave it. My sweet assassins set to stalk their hearths and stifle their throats. My changelings will turn the very face of hope against them. Master choking apprentice, father hacking down son. | ||
This city will butcher itself soon enough. And the lordling will be powerless to stop it. | This city will butcher itself soon enough. And the lordling will be powerless to stop it. | ||
| Line 26: | Line 24: | ||
| usage cost = | | usage cost = | ||
| effect = | | effect = | ||
| where to find = In | | where to find = * In a Mahogany Wardrobe in the [[Bhaal_Temple#The_Chosen's_Room|Chosen's Room]] {{coords|109|1004}} | ||
| notes = | | notes = | ||
}} | }} | ||
Latest revision as of 09:30, 21 October 2024
Author: 
Rarity: Common
Weight: .05 kg / 0.1 lb
Price: 14 gp Where to find
- In a Mahogany Wardrobe in the Chosen's Room X: 109 Y: 1004
Text
How weakly the city slumbers above, safe behind its walls. It forgets what lurks below. It must be reminded.
If the tyrant wishes them to suckle his accursed teat, I can make them crave it. My sweet assassins set to stalk their hearths and stifle their throats. My changelings will turn the very face of hope against them. Master choking apprentice, father hacking down son.
This city will butcher itself soon enough. And the lordling will be powerless to stop it.