Knight's Elder Wood Staff

Knight's Elder Wood Staff sits upright on the tavern bench, a piece of forest carved into authority. The staff's body is pale elder wood, smooth as river stone, with a satin sheen that catches the room’s low light. Along its length run slender etched runes, silvered as frost, spiraling toward a crown at the top. The head is carved into a knight’s helm motif, a tiny crest above a green gem that glows with a patient inner light. The grip is wrapped in worn leather, scarred by years of the hand’s pressure, and a faint scent of resin lingers in the air. At the base, roots twist into a subtle knot, as if the wood itself clings to the memory of the oath that birthed it. Old chronicles whisper that the staff was born in the shadow of a border keep, where elder trees grew thick and patient, under banners that faded into memory. A knight of stubborn mercy bound his vow into the wood, binding calm to the chaos of siege with every strike and every whispered prayer. The lore says the staff drinks in the courage of its wielder; when a righteous purpose is near, the gem’s glow deepens, and the runes flare softly when the wielder acts to protect rather than harm. In practice, the Knight's Elder Wood Staff is a conduit for the spellcraft that marks a battle’s turning. Elementalists prize it for the way its fibers seem to spread a quiet discipline through a spread of sigils, lending extra reach to a line of fire or a gust of wind. Healers find a steady channel for soothing energy, a halo that can bend the tide of a skirmish toward relief rather than ruin. Those who carry the staff report a sense of balance, a rhythm in casting that makes even the most chaotic moment feel ordered, as if the world’s weather obeys a single, patient plan. Market day follows the long corridor of stalls, leatherpacks stacked like small forts, and the clink of coins in the air. One vendor notes that price for a Knight’s Elder Wood Staff with its original inscription can swing depending on condition; in prime form, it’s commonly seen around two to three gold, sometimes higher if the gem holds a stronger pulse. The Saddlebag Exchange—a bustling, sun-warmed corner of traders and stories—becomes the stage where it passes from one caretaker to the next. A buyer will judge the weight of history as surely as the weight of metal and glass, and the coin changes hands with the same slow ceremony that marks a knight’s oath renewed. To hold it is to carry a story forward: a pact sworn in wood, a promise that balance can survive the crush of war when courage answers call. The Knight's Elder Wood Staff remains more than a weapon; it is a waypoint—an artifact that asks its owner to live up to the age-old vow, to guard, to heal, and to endure. Its light remains a beacon.