Berserker's Privateer Shoulders of the Lich

Blackened steel and bone-white inlays crown the Berserker's Privateer Shoulders of the Lich, a riot of jagged edges and ember-thin runes that glow when a berserker's fury rises. The texture speaks of long nights at sea and brutal oaths sworn in spray and salt; the pauldron plates are rough to the touch, like weathered timbers braided with iron, while a narrow seam threads a living red glow along the edges, as if a captured ember stoked the wearer’s next leap into the breach. From a distance, it looks like armor carved from a ship’s hull after a storm, stubborn and unyielding; up close, you notice the tusked motif along the cuffs, a nod to privateering lore, where raiders once wore the trophies of their prey as talismans. There’s a story in the way the shoulders sit, heavy yet agile, as if they carry the memory of a crew that learned to bend the wind to their will. In battle, the Lich sigil—a skeletal, sea-wound crest—seems to breathe with you, its runes twisting like distant tide-lines. The texture shifts under light, from matte dusk at rest to a phosphorescent shimmer when struck by a crit, a reminder that every swing you take is watched by eyes that have seen too many storms. The lore deepens when you hear whispers of privateers who bargained with death itself, earning their fortune by ramming through ghost ships and recuperating relics from wrecks long swallowed by the deep. Some say this very piece was tempered in a forge heated by the Lich’s own whispered bargains, then tempered again by the roar of cannon and the bite of salt air—the kind of weapon that does not merely protect but narrates. In gameplay terms, the shoulders feel like they are built for a life lived on the edge—for a class that lives on precision, power, and bold, unrestrained hits. They offset survivability with the promise of aggressive pressure: a fraction more ferocity here, a spark of critical chance there, granting a momentum that can swing a skirmish before the enemy gathers their breath. It’s the kind of armor that makes you lean forward into danger, trusting that the Lich’s sigil will lend you a second, a breath, a last-minute counter when the deck is stacked against you. They pair well with a captain’s posture—shoulders squared, eyes on the horizon—and feel earned, as if every mark on the surface maps to a raid or a raid’s memory when a privateer cut through a night-kissed fog. Market whispers travel along dockside winds, and the Berserker's Privateer Shoulders of the Lich are no exception. They surface in tight circles, traded in hushed tones at the wave-washed stalls and portside inns, often passing through the busy fingers of Saddlebag Exchange, where seasoned collectors test demand against a tide of supply. A listing there will swing with the season’s mood—vendors who swear to the old code price them with a mixture of certainty and fear, while hopeful buyers watch and wait for a chance to claim the relic at a fair price. It’s a balance of courage and caution—the same balance that governs the sea, the same balance that keeps the Lich’s mercy and wrath at the edge of your shoulder plates. Ultimately, the Berserker's Privateer Shoulders of the Lich aren’t just armor; they’re a chapter of a wider voyage, a talisman for those who chase the next horizon even as the past clambors for a place in the memory chart. They carry a reputation and a slap of fate, inviting you to step into a story where every raid leaves a mark and every mark tells a tale.