Cleric's Mithril Plated Inscription rests on the palm like a small, glinting shield, its mithril surface hammered into a tight lattice that sparkles with a frost-blue glow when candles catch it. The plate is square-notched at the corners, with a beveled edge that feels cool and almost coin-smooth to the touch. In the center, a raised sigil—a stylized lamp set within a crescent—glows faintly, as if a quiet ward were kept beneath the metal. Along the border, a line of fine, archaic runes runs in a delicate loop, each one a whisper of forgotten rites. The texture shifts under the fingers: a whisper of grit from the hammer, a whisper of polish from careful hands, and beneath it all the weight of mileage and memory, like a relic that has traveled more miles than any map would dare chart. It looks as if it could be worn as a badge, a trusted talisman, yet the inscription’s true beauty lies in what it promises to do when given a purpose. Lore has it that clerics who carried such inscriptions were not merely guardians of the body but stewards of the wounded soul. The Mithril Plated Inscription was said to veil the bearer in a calm, almost lunar, aura during hospital shields and vigil duties, a manifestation of their vow to heal rather than to strike. The plate’s cool gleam is described in old journals as a quiet reminder that mercy can be as hard-won as any oath; that the wearer's intent—steadfast, compassionate, precise—could be read in the way the light danced along its beveled edges. In some stories, the inscription survives as a sort of memory-ward, soaking up the tremors of arcane storms and returning steadiness to those who lean on it. It feels less like armor and more like a lullaby carved into metal, a promise that even in the heat of a siege, a healer’s gaze may guide the wounded toward dawn. In practical terms, this piece is prized for the way it amplifies a cleric’s craft. It can be applied to armor or gear sockets that accept inscriptions, granting a modest but meaningful boost to healing efficiency and protective auras during critical moments. Players claim it not only improves uptime on blessing-based roles but also threads a narrative through their builds—making each shielded step feel like a deliberate act of mercy rather than a mere tactical decision. Its presence signals the wearer’s allegiance to guardianship and restoration, a common thread in the world’s more somber campaigns where every decision ripples outward. Market chatter makes the item feel even more alive. At Saddlebag Exchange, a quiet, sunlit stall in the market’s edge, a merchant fingered the plate with reverent care, weighing risk against value as though it were a relic currency. The conversation drifted from lore to logistics, from the glow of the sigil to the price, and back again, until the bid settled in a delicate balance of rarity and need. The inscription moves with the pulse of the world—fewer in number than want, yet sought after by those who see their gear not just as equipment but as a part of a larger, ongoing story of healing in a broken landscape.