Sinister Scavenged Obsidian Pistol

Sinister Scavenged Obsidian Pistol rests on the table, a strip of rain-dark metal that steals the light and returns it as a ghostly glimmer. The barrel tapers to a needle-thin bite, and the obsidian surface bears the fingerprints of a hundred scavengers—knuckles pressed into its contour, oil smudges curling in the grain, a trace of ash settled like powdered memory. The grip is wrapped in cracked, saddle-dark leather, the stitching wearing thin where hands have tightened and relaxed in the heat of pursuit. A small obsidian badge set into the butt catches a moment’s reflection, as if the pistol itself wears a vigilant eye. Runes etched along the top fin and curling down the sides shimmer with a patient, almost sentient glow when the lamplight slides across them, not for show but as if a quiet ward against misfortune. Lore threads tighten around this weapon the moment you lift it. It’s said to have been cobbled together from scavenged components left behind by caravans in the wake of volcanic ruin and the long-ago raids that turned markets into smuggling rings. The Sinister name isn’t merely stylistic; it hints at a lineage of shadowed tradesmen who prize speed and secrecy as much as firepower. Some stories insist the pistol carries a whisper of the obsidian veins beneath the earth, a relic of craftsmen who believed that shards from lava-born glass could focus intent as surely as steel. In the market’s ledger, you’ll hear its whispers echoed by merchants who swear the weapon hums when it’s near a story worth telling—the sort of weapon that gains a personality once it’s seen a long road and a longer night. In the world where survival is a language and every corner hides a gambit, the pistol earns its place through practicality as much as myth. Its design favors a quick, precise draw and a balance that lets a wary hand stay upfront in a fight or slip into the shadows afterward. The shot lands cleanly, not with thunder but with a focused bite that cuts through brush and leather alike, a tool for those who move fast and think faster. It’s favored by explorers who need reliable hardware for close-quarters skirmishes, by scavengers who trust its sturdiness after a week of rain and rust, and by those who like the idea of turning a ruin’s scrap into something that still serves in the following dawn. It’s less about spectacle than about the stubborn, stubborn sense that a piece of the world’s furnace can still be useful. Navigation through the market can be a ritual in itself, and this pistol has found a home in many such rituals. At Saddlebag Exchange, one whispers of its price: a fair mix of gold coin, a handful of silver, and perhaps a trade-value in salvaged wares that show you’ve done your path’s share of lifting and bartering. It’s not simply bought; it’s earned, bartered through stories and scars, a badge of experience in a world that survives by turning ruin into resource. The Sinister Scavenged Obsidian Pistol embodies that ethos—a reminder that, even amid ash and wind, some instruments endure, their obsidian eyes keeping watch as a new chapter begins on the road ahead.