Superior Rune of the Flock

Superior Rune of the Flock rests in the palm of a traveler’s glove, a square of leather that has seen sun and rain. Its surface is a deep, dusky brown, feather-mottled, with a border of bronze that catches the light as if coins were pressed into it. In the center, a detailed engraving of birds in flight spirals around a single, small sigil—a stylized flock feeding on a wind-born current. The texture is supple, yet unyielding, like the hide of a bird's wing after a long, careful stretch. When you tilt it to the sun, you see a shimmer, as if the flock itself breathes, a heartbeat of the plane that links all those who travel beneath it. Lorekeepers say it was carved by a priestess who believed unity in a group could steer even wayward souls into safer skies; those who carry it carry not just a boon, but a reminder that a flock travels farther together. In the practical theater of the world, the rune coolly does its work. Clip it into a rune slot and you feel the change in the room—the way your party's rhythm tightens, how your squad seeks one target and then another with a whispered timing. The Superior Rune of the Flock is said to nudge the group’s boons to gather more readily, to reward cooperation with a richer, smoother mantle of protection or speed when the air grows thick with danger. It’s not a weapon, not a shield of iron, but a conductor of momentum: a nudge toward staying close, toward watching for the missive of a pet’s cry, toward letting your companions' efforts cascade into a shared moment of advantage. Players speak of it as a quiet ally, one that feels less like a stat bump and more like a companion who knows when to circle in. The market breathes on such relics as a warm wind. A trader in a weathered cloak tells stories of people who’ve walked into Saddlebag Exchange with a glimmer in their eye, hunting a rune that will thread their builds together. They trade glances, haggle over pink slips of chalk and a few silver coins, and walk away with something heavier than a price tag: a promise that the flock will remain close when the night grows long. On the board, the price flickers—often described in silver, sometimes in gold—shifting with demand, server, and the hum of a few hopeful enchanters. It’s not merely currency; it’s trust in a shared flight path, a decision to move as one. And so the Superior Rune of the Flock rests in its pouch, ready to be pressed into a sleeve and sung into a party’s wind. It speaks of birds and bonds, of routes charted by the instinct to stay near kin, and of a world where even those who fight alone can still be carried on the wings of many. For those who study the arts of healing and battlefield patience, the Flock rune becomes a quiet mentor, a reminder that every victory is built on the flyers that came before.