Carrion Feathered Vestments

The Carrion Feathered Vestments spill over the chair, a sculpted cascade of charcoal fabric and brittle plumage that catches the lamp light and holds it like a secret. The bodice is stitched with thin, sinewy thread that looks almost dried spiderweb; feathers fan along the shoulders in a raven-black gradient, each barb tipped with a hint of dusk brown. The texture is soft where the cloth is woven, yet stiff at the edges, giving the wearer the impression that memory itself could be brushed away if they step into shadow. A cloak-like pattern winds around the waist, mirroring wind-swept ridges, while small bone-like buttons fasten the front, pale and cool to the touch. In the lore of scavenging cultures, these vestments are said to be woven from the plumage of carrion birds that patrol the borders between life and the aftertaste of battle, pinning luck to the wearer like a talisman. Some whisper that the feathers once belonged to a messenger who refused to perish, carrying secrets across a field of wilted banners; others insist the vestments are a rite of passage for those who serve as undertakers of memory, dressing the dead so they might walk a little longer in the world of the living. In gameplay they become more than just cloth and ritual. They are a narrative tool for players who want their character to carry a weight of history into every encounter. A necromancer moving through a canyon of skritt and sterilized laboratories will find the feathers resonant, forgiving the wearer’s missteps as they channel life’s frail balance. For some builds the vestments lend a stealthy, night-born aesthetic that pairs beautifully with skills that mask presence or disrupt detection. For others they are a reminder that power often arrives wearing a mask of elegy, a garment that seems to absorb the light around the wearer and reflect it back as a warning flare. Players trade them and polish them, swapping stories of where every feather has rested—on a battlefield, in a moonlit chasm, or inside a vendor’s dusty stall. The market dragon of the garment’s story is the value itself, a thread you pull to see how worth travels across the map. When a seller in Divinity’s Reach posts a price, the dialogue drifts toward the Saddlebag Exchange, where seasoned traders haggle and compare notes about seasons and demand. A quick glance at the day’s listings reveals a paradox: the vestments look austere, but in the right hands they carry a bright spark of aspiration. It’s not merely about stats; it’s about provenance, about what the feathers can carry forward—stories, notoriety, and the patience to wait for the right bid.