Moonlace & Mourning
Est. 2025 • Dhampir Bard
Moonlace & Mourning
The shop runs on appointments only for new customers. The owner insists on tea and a measuring of the pulse before every fitting. Mirrors in the dressing rooms ...
Shopkeeper
Morven O'Rourke, a Dhampir Bard (Lvl 14)
Keeper's Species
Dhampir
Shop Inventory
(14)A finely woven cloak threaded with faint silver filigree. Its cloth seems to drink in cold moonlight.
Low black boots of soft leather with tiny moonstone buckles. They seem to quicken the beat of the wearer's pulse.
A fashionable bonnet that appears ordinary until the wearer thinks of another face.
A soft, hooded cloak of grey-green weave favored by hunters and soft-footed travelers.
A reversible cloak, sumptuous on one side and threadbare on the other, worked with tiny hidden pockets.
A hand-painted party mask that becomes the face of one specific person the moment it is donned.
A floor-length gown woven from moon-silver thread over Moonweave cotton. Its hem seems to drink in starlight.
A structured bustle threaded with soft leather and Moonweave padding that muffles footfalls completely.
A painted parasol stitched with black hibiscus and runes of shading. Popular with noble dhampir girls who avoid the sun.
A simple, pale silver band engraved with knotwork. It hums faintly when placed on the finger.
A sealed glass vial of warm, honey-colored liquid. It mends deep cuts and drains weariness.
A set of undergarments tailored from Moonweave cotton. Soft against the skin, cool in summer and warm in autumn.
A reinforced Moonweave corset, boned with filigreed steel so light it feels ornamental. Cuts an elegant silhouette.
A delicate lace choker threaded with a single drop of dried vampireglass. It hums when stray spells brush it.
Morven O'Rourke
Shop Atmosphere
“The shop runs on appointments only for new customers. The owner insists on tea and a measuring of the pulse before every fitting. Mirrors in the dressing rooms are slightly convex and always fog a little when a dhampir enters. A small jar of powdered iron nails sits by the till but no one will say why.”
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