Carrion Prowler Shoulders

The Carrion Prowler Shoulders hang from a sun-worn peg, a relic that looks as if it’s learned to breathe in a torchlit alley. The leather is a deep, weathered brown, stretched taut over bone chisels that curve across the upper arms like careful talons. Edges are frayed, betraying years of use, but the stitching remains stubbornly solid, a mosaic of copper rivets and sinew-gray thread. A strip of mottled fur, half-preserved from some winter with the claws still catching the light, rims the shoulders, while a small charm—an ebony bead carved into a carrion beetle—dangles from a loop at the collarbone’s hinge. In torchlight the surface seems to pulse with a faint greenish sheen, as if the hide keeps a slow, patient memory of what it once hunted. Lore clings to the piece as tightly as the leather does to the bone plates. The Carrion Prowler, in whispered tavern tales and vendor’s legends, was a scavenger stalker that roamed the fringes of ruin—an animal of hunger, endurance, and silent patience. Craftsmen who worked in those shadow markets claimed that the shoulders carry a sliver of that creature’s cunning, a chill where the wearer’s steps grow softer, their awareness keening with the carrion’s instinct to wait and strike at the perfect moment. Some say the shoulders are stitched from the hide of a recruit who learned to throat-snare prey with nothing but a gloved hand; others swear the bones are carved from an omen, a warning to enemies that the wearer will outlast them in a chase through ash and rain. In gameplay, the shoulders feel like a story you can wear. They’re favored by those who want a rugged, hunter’s silhouette, a look that says they move between shadows and daylight with a calm, measured tread. Beyond aesthetics, they’re prized for their balance of toughness and mobility—enough armoring to weather a skirmish, enough lightness to keep you turning in the heat of a longer pursuit. The Carrion Prowler Shoulders carry a subtle aura of resilience; in practice they tend to synergize with builds that rely on sustained presence in combat, offering a slight uptick to vitality and a modest bonus to conditions that favor staying power. It’s not a flashy power-kick, but a quiet, dependable boost that makes a hunter feel as if they’ve learned to hunt in two worlds—the living and the remembering—the two hearts of the same trail. Market days bring practical drama to the table. I found mine not in a polished shopfront but in the market area patrolled by chatter and the rustle of canvas. Traders at the Saddlebag Exchange spoke in earnest whispers about price, bartering with stories as much as coins. A ledger-worn vendor with ink-stained fingers finally slid the shoulders across the counter, the cloth-slung satchels jingling as if to announce a deal would close soon. They fetched a price that reflected their rarity and the rumor of their binding to a prowler’s patience, and the exchange wrapped up with the quiet clack of coin and the soft, almost respectful nods of those who know what it means to carry something that ages with you. Put on, and you walk a little slower, a little surer. The Carrion Prowler Shoulders aren’t just armor; they’re a reminder that some things endure by waiting, and that the hunter’s patience can outlast the hunt.