Mending Norn Axe of Earth

Mending Norn Axe of Earth rests in the dim light, its blade a matte slab of iron seasoned by seasons and etched with vein-like patina that shifts when you tilt it just so. The edge holds a stubborn gleam, as if it remembers every cut it’s ever given, and the runes along the fuller glow faintly, like mineral veins waking in dawn frost. The haft is ash, thick and straight, bound with braided sinew and strips of tanned leather that have softened to a warm patina from years of grip. Moss clusters at the base where steel meets wood, a quiet nod to the forest that birthed it. The pommel bears a tiny carved Norn figure, gazing out over hills as though listening for tremors—the old belief that the earth itself can mend if one is patient enough. Forged in a forgotten mountain hall, the Mending Axe of Earth carries a dual memory: it mends stone and it mends wounds. The elders say the weapon’s Mending blessing flows from an ancient earth-spirit pact, a covenant to stitch cracks in ground and bone alike when wielded with a patient, steady hand. When swung, the axe hums with a quiet vitality; a fraction of vitality returns to the wielder on each strike, and nearby allies feel a warm breath of renewal that settles over them. In the field, it pairs with healers and guardians, offering both blunt force and a cadence of restoration. The Mending charge can flare when the land itself is wounded—standing over a fissure might trigger a brief earth-shield or a touch of Stability for those fighting nearby. It is not merely a tool of cutting but a partner in mending the line between exhaustion and endurance. On the road, its true call becomes clear to anyone who has spent long days breaking trail. The axe is a story in iron: a weapon that makes space for rest, a reminder that even soldiers must give the ground time to heal. In practical play, it becomes a kind of pragmatic anchor for a squad: a reliable DPS tool that also occasionally patches up the team, smoothing over the ragged edges of a brutal encounter. Wielders learn to time their strikes with the heartbeat of the earth, to let the weapon’s quiet hum align with the rallying cry that follows a hard-fought victory. I learned this one’s price not in a tabulated ledger but in the clink of coin and the weight of conversation at Saddlebag Exchange, a traveling courtyard where wares are weighed as much by tale as by metal. A trader’s fingers traced the moss, weighed the blade’s history against the mood of the room, and spoke of a market that breathes with the world’s seasons. The going price hovered around four to five gold coins, though a thoughtful exchange might include a pouch of pelts, a handful of glimmerstones, or a favor tucked into the margins of the deal. The market, after all, is a chorus of memory and risk: some seek raw power, others the story, and a few simply chase the practical promise that a tool like this will not fail a friend when the ground itself trembles beneath them. Back out on the road, the axe lives on in new hands, yet the Mending Norn Axe of Earth stubbornly remains a reminder: power tethered to care, a blade that cuts and also heals, and a quiet oath that the earth, if tended, will always offer a steady hand to those who walk its surface.