Shaman's Norn Dagger of Energy catches the torchlight and hums softly in the hand, its blade a slender shard of frost-glass with veins of pale blue winding along the edge. The steel seems to drink the glow, flaring in faint, ripple-like patterns as if a heartbeat lies just beneath the surface. The hilt is bone-white leather-wrapped, scarred from long travel and rainy nights, with sigils that glow a cool, answering blue when the blade draws near skin. A carved totem of a stag, wind-worn and resolute, crowns the pommel, and the whole thing feels almost alive, as though the long-ago shaman who forged it left a scrap of frost-wind inside the metal to guide it home for the worthy. Lore says the dagger was born in the breath between storm and silence, when a Norn shaman bound a spark of wind-wyrd—the pure, restless energy of the wild—into a weapon meant to endure more than pain. The totem on the pommel marks a pact with the spirits of the north, a promise that the bearer will not simply strike but channel the environment’s pulse. In the tales told around campfires, the dagger is less a tool of murder than a conduit for listening to the world’s tempo: the crackle of ice, the tremor of pine roots, the distant thunder of hidden rivers. Taken from a shrine that once served as a crossroads for wanderers and holy fools, the blade has traveled through frost-bitten markets and snow-swept camps, gathering rumors and a stubborn reputation that refuses to melt away. In gameplay terms, the Shaman's Norn Dagger of Energy has always felt like more than a weapon. It’s described in hushed circles as a catalyst for the wielder to draw on the ambient energy of the world—an edge that doesn’t just cut but awakens. When you swing, a flicker of light travels the blade and luminous threads braid themselves into your next move, shortening the breath between strike and surge. Those who respect its history claim it improves momentum, letting a focused attacker chain a rapid sequence of blows into a more potent finishing strike. Others speak of ritual resets—moments when a well-timed parry or follow-up recharges a precious ability, as if the wind itself lends a second breath to the user. In group play, the dagger’s energy connection is said to prime allies for potent bursts, turning a skirmish into a shared storm rather than a solitary clash. Market talk is never far from such things, and even the Saddlebag Exchange has learned to whisper about it with a measured awe. A seeker walking the docks might hear the tale told in a dozen dialects: the dagger fetches a fair price when a hunter or mage seeks a conduit for quick, precise strikes, especially if the buyer brings with them a story of courage under frost and a willingness to honor the old rites. Traders say the blade’s value rises with the lane’s danger, the bargain sweetened by a trader’s trust and a seller’s memory of a long, cold road. It remains a relic and a tool—a bridge between who wielded it and who will listen when the world speaks through ice and sparks. The Shaman's Norn Dagger of Energy endures not only as steel but as saga, carried by those who hear the old wind and are ready to answer with a measured, luminous strike.