Track 13: An Exalted Lullaby

Track 13: An Exalted Lullaby rests on the table like a sliver of midnight caught in glass. The disc is circular, about the size of a cupped hand, its surface a polished obsidian that drinks the lamplight and reflects a patient, listening world. Runes of pale ivory trace a delicate spiral around the rim, looping inward as if they knew the pace of a heartbeat. The edge is threaded with silver filaments that glint with every small movement, a soft aurora that seems to hum when you cradle it close. When you tilt it, a slender groove catches the candle’s glow and lets out a whisper of sound, as if a note long asleep answers your touch. The back bears a miniature sigil of a reposing moon, a seal that feels older than the room you found it in, as if the lullaby itself were guarding a memory rather than music. Lore clings to Track 13 as tenaciously as the lacquered wood itself. It is said to have been carved by a minstrel who walked with the Exalted—an order famed for binding fragile peace with careful, soothing cadence. The lullaby carried in this track is believed to soften furies and quiet feuding tongues, a melody that could coax a stubborn ally to listen and a wary foe to pause. Travelers tell of nights saved by its cadence—when the moon rose high enough to see the truth of a village’s scars, this tune dimmed the sparks of old quarrels and gave room for a new oath to take root. The Exalted Lullaby becomes less a song and more a witness, a relic that has learned to speak in whispers so as not to wake the world’s sleeping promises. In gameplay terms, Track 13 slips into a larger narrative like a carefully chosen word in a letter. When activated through the game’s jukebox interfaces—whether in a personal quarters space or a guild hall—the piece releases a soft, lilting melody that settles nerves and shifts tempo. Its atmosphere isn’t a combat trick, but a doorway: during tense skirmishes or fragile negotiations, the lullaby’s presence can smooth the edge of fear, calm frayed nerves, and invite a moment of clarity. Some players use it to pace a long expedition, to mark the turning of a hard night into a dawn of decisions. Others collect Tracks as they would stories, each one offering a distinct mood and a thread for a wider tapestry of in-world memory. It’s the kind of item that feels less like loot and more like a talisman—a quiet force that helps the world remember what is worth protecting. Markets never sleep, and Saddlebag Exchange captures that rhythm in its own ledger. Among traders, Track 13 travels with a gentle, steady demand—sellers speak of it with reverence, buyers with a practical smile, a rare few bargaining for the exact moment it will sing in their room of maps and moth-eaten lanterns. The price drifts with season and curiosity, priced in a language of gold and silver that reflects its age and its promise. A prime copy can fetch a respectable sum, but many find it affordable enough to bring home as a daily reminder that lullabies can still shape destinies. In the end, Track 13 is more than a collectible. It is a quiet pact between memory and present, a melody that travels as a traveler does—across caravans, through markets, and between the hands that seek shelter in sound.