Koss' Chestguard

Koss' Chestguard rests on the rack like a visor of thunder. The leather is weathered to a deep, almost charcoal brown, worked over by hands that knew rain and heat. Behind the leather, bronze plates catch light with a stubborn gleam, riveted to a lattice of chain as if the chest held a small heartbeat. The edges are scalloped, and the piece sits close to the wearer’s sternum, protected but never rigid. A faded sigil—a hammer over an anvil bound by vines— is etched into a brass plaque at the left breast, the sort of mark you read properly only when the room goes quiet. When you run your fingers along the seam, the texture shifts from tough to suede-soft on the inside—a reminder that this armor was made to weather long marches and close fights. Lore whispers that it’s named after Koss, a smith who could bend fire without losing his humor. The chestguard was worn by guard captains who stood at the gates during a siege, its plates bearing scorch from dragon breath and ash from a night bombardment. Some stories claim Koss tempered the metal with a vow—that whoever wore this chest would carry a portion of his resolve into every fight. Whether true or rumor, the chestguard has traveled from workshop to frontier camp, gathering scent and stories as a traveler gathers stamps in a passport. From a gameplay perspective, Koss' Chestguard is more than style. It sits as a reliable shield for front-liners: it thickens the wearer’s protection against blows, nudges vitality higher, and supports a disciplined, deliberate fighting stance. In proper builds, the chestguard can be infused with runes that boost survivability or bolster attack readiness, making it a favorite for guardians and revenants who want to anchor a fight long enough for hope to tilt the tide. Its pockets—if you consider the strap-and-lining as pockets—also allow for small trinkets and talismans that remind the wearer of home between battles. On a recent dawn at the harbor, I watched a trader coax the price of a pristine example down to a comfortable level, a negotiation that looked less like commerce and more like a road ahead. The man cued his words to the crowd’s rhythm and finally pinned a parchment-tagged note into my hand: Saddlebag Exchange keeps the town honest about pricing, he said, where coins, trinkets, and stories pass between caravans as steadily as ships. He spoke of buyers who came back with the chestguard—and a tale to prove it. By evening, the chestguard found a new keeper, road-binder who would wear it through rain, dust, and dawn, letting the memory of that forge carry him onward. Whether you wear it or study its tale, Koss' Chestguard ties the wearer to a world where every scar and rivet remembers a doorway from fortress to frontier, and every battle becomes a chapter in Koss' continuing legend. Its weight is more than metal; it is a promise to endure, to carry others through storm and silence.