Cleric's Scallywag Helm of the Pack

The Cleric's Scallywag Helm of the Pack sits heavy on the brow, a helmet that looks as if it has weathered a dozen coastal storms and still kept faith with its wearer. Leather runs in thick, taut stitches around a crown forged from dull brass, the surface panged with micro-scratches and a faint green patina that hints at salt and sun-soaked years. A small, weathered emblem—an intertwined sigil of a cross and a compass—gleams beneath a ring of riveted plates, as if the helm itself keeps a patient vigil over direction and duty. On the back, a row of tethered leather tabs hang like a tattered saluting banner, each one dyed a different shade of blue or ochre, and a single dark feather, salted and stiff, is pinned to the leather with a brass pin. The interior lining is linen, softened by countless uses, carrying the faint scent of limewash and old parchment. It feels sturdy enough to weather a skirmish at the edge of a harbor, yet intimate enough that the wearer could hear a whispered confession through its seams. Lore wise, the helm carries the memory of a cleric who walked with a notorious pack of roguish mercenaries, a caravan known as the Pack that traded in blessings as deftly as blades. They called him “the Scallywag Saint” in taverns along the coast, because he offered a cure for wounds and a wager for one last voyage before the sea claimed a debt. The helm is said to hold a sliver of that oath-bound pact: a promise that healing should walk hand in hand with courage and cunning. In quiet moments, you can almost hear the soft creak of the helm when the Pack moves as one—an old sea shanty tucked into the metal, guiding the wearer toward acts of protection that feel almost ritual, almost necessary. In gameplay, the helm acts like a bridge between frontline resolve and backline resilience. When worn, it hums with a subtle resonance that encourages nearby allies to mistrust fear more than they fear the fight, granting a small but steady boost to group survivability. Healing skills used by the wearer ripple outward, blessing allies with a restorative ward or a brief shield that lingers with the tempo of the battle. This makes the helm particularly beloved by support-oriented builds that keep a team stitched together in fractals, world bosses, or escort runs through winding coastal routes. It’s the kind of item that rewards positioning and teamwork: stand close to your squad, and the Pack’s loyalty becomes tangible in the form of protection and steadier heals. If you’re curious about market whispers, you’ll hear traders mentioning Saddlebag Exchange in the same breath as rare slates of lore about the helm. Listings tend to reflect its status: not junk, but something that has traveled through a dozen hands, with a price tag that sighs toward the higher end of standard headgear—often hovering in the gold range, with room for negotiation depending on roll stats and any special infusion. In practice, a buyer might haggle for a level of durability and boons that feel most at home in a supportive, fear-steeped world where every decision—heal now, move now, shield now—could tilt the scales toward mercy.