LotS/Elven Auto-Bow
| Item Navigation |
|---|
| Main Hand | Off Hand | Helmet | Chest | Gloves | Pants | Boots | Trinkets | Utilities | Fusion |
| Tactics | Consumables | Ships | Officers | Crew | Sidekicks | Engineering | Best Items | Home |
| name::Elven Auto-Bow | [[:Category:LotS/type::Utility|type::Utility]] |
| Attack: attack::695 Defense: defense::595 |
|
| 18 Dexterity: Chance for bonus damage; additional damage against Male and Female raids; Chance to produce an Unwanted Festive Gift; Set 6: Proc chance is increased | |
| 9. The room they led her into was full of elves. Some were still in costume from working the night shift, adorned with festive green stained here and there with blood, vomit, or food smeared by little fingers. A few of Melanie's colleagues were present. They greeted her with smiles and winks. The rest must have come from the city's other malls, she mused. And from the whispered conversations it seemed that similar gatherings were happening all over the planet. Maybe even the whole system.
After several minutes the susurration ended, and a man came to the podium at the front of the room. He wore an elf costume -- but it was different. Prouder, more impressive, armored. He was an elf of power and glory. Of war. Long blond hair streamed beneath his bobbled hat, flowing past broad, muscular shoulders. He had a bow and a sword strapped to his back. "Elves," he said, "it's time to show the universe what we can do. Death to the Santas!" "Death to the Santas!" Melanie and the others chorused. | |
| Obtained from | |
{{#set:statdps=3375 }} {{#set:minprocdps=0 }} {{#set:maxprocdps=0 }} {{#set:totalminprocdps=3375 }} {{#set:totalmaxprocdps=3375 }} {{#set:stamina=0 }} {{#set:energy=0 }} {{#set:honor=0 }} {{#set:pvp=0 }} {{#set:pvpattack=0 }} {{#set:pvpdefense=0 }} {{#set:health=0 }}
{{#set:color=Orange}} {{#set:ability=18 Dexterity: Chance for bonus damage; additional damage against Male and Female raids; Chance to produce an Unwanted Festive Gift; Set 6: Proc chance is increased}} {{#set:text=9. The room they led her into was full of elves. Some were still in costume from working the night shift, adorned with festive green stained here and there with blood, vomit, or food smeared by little fingers. A few of Melanie's colleagues were present. They greeted her with smiles and winks. The rest must have come from the city's other malls, she mused. And from the whispered conversations it seemed that similar gatherings were happening all over the planet. Maybe even the whole system.
After several minutes the susurration ended, and a man came to the podium at the front of the room. He wore an elf costume -- but it was different. Prouder, more impressive, armored. He was an elf of power and glory. Of war. Long blond hair streamed beneath his bobbled hat, flowing past broad, muscular shoulders. He had a bow and a sword strapped to his back.
"Elves," he said, "it's time to show the universe what we can do. Death to the Santas!"
"Death to the Santas!" Melanie and the others chorused.}} {{#set:obtained=Elven Uprising}} {{#set:used=}} {{#set:notes=}} {{#set:unique=}}