Magi's Skyforged Short Bow

Magi's Skyforged Short Bow gleams under the workshop lamp, a thing of violence and patient craftsmanship. Its limbs are two halves of ashwood, lacquered in midnight-blue that deepens where the wood meets the sky-forged steel spine. The metal, pale meteor-gray, runs in a faint, crackling vein along the belly, like lightning trapped in wood. The string, a whisper-thin braid of spider-silk, sits taut enough to shimmer when drawn. Runic sigils curl along the grip—constellations stitched with a hunter’s patience, a reminder that to aim is to borrow a moment from the storm. The grip is wrapped in blue-black leather, worn smooth from years of steady holds, and the butt is cut with a shallow arc so it nestles into the palm as if the bow were always meant to rest there. In lore, the Magi forged these in sky-forges where lightning cools into tempered grace, a weapon meant to sing with wind and obey the draw of a hunter who respects the weather. To hold it is to feel the world tilt toward the horizon; not heavy, but alive, as if the wood remembers every branch it wore and every rain it tasted. The skyforged spine carries a cold resistance to impact, a blue glow when moonlight strikes the metal. Its lore ties the weapon to the Magi—keepers of old storms who believed a true shot could bend fortune, if only the shooter learned to listen for the hum in the air. In practice, it rewards precision and tempo: a rapid draw can launch a sequence of arrows that feel telegraphed by fate. It’s not about raw power; it’s about rhythm, about reading the wind, about choosing the right moment to release and to vanish into cover before the echo of retaliation returns. Traveling merchants talk about price when the Moon rises over the market, and the Saddlebag Exchange keeps market whispers moving as fast as the arrows. A vendor might name a price steep enough to demand a story tucked into the leather sheath, and a buyer who has traded coins and favors across many quarters will press a link of a trade through the crowd: a bow traded for jade, for a set of maps, for a favored tale of a hunter’s luck. The Exchange, with its chatter and bell-yellow banners, is where Skyforged pieces change hands—slowly, with caravan trust. The price reflects the bow’s rarity and its nearly legendary aura—not just a tool, but a companion in the hunt, a promise that the next arrow will tell a better story than the last. Placed in the hands of a careful hunter, Magi's Skyforged Short Bow becomes more than wood and metal; it becomes weather you can carry. It whispers of storms survived, of dawns earned, of battles fought with a quiet grin and a steady breath. And when the first shot splits the air, you hear a distant memory answer back—an old alliance between hunter and wind, renewed with every arrow sworn to the sky today.