Shaman's Norn Bow of Energy

Shaman's Norn Bow of Energy rests on a scarred workbench, a relic carved from storm-swept wood. Its limbs are frost-dark yew, smooth to the touch, with veins of azure lacquer that flicker as the light moves. The grip is wrapped in patched hide, worn smooth by years of steady hands, and the riser bears spiraling runes that glow with a cool, electric light. The string hums faintly when drawn, a note that travels the arm like a current. Bone inlays along the belly form a totem line, and at the tips a soft glow threads through the wood, as if lightning itself refused to leave the weapon. It feels heavy with memory, not just metal and grain. Locals say a Norn shaman bound weather to wood, teaching the storm to listen. When a hunter took up the bow, the wind seemed to bend around the shooter, and arrows came with a spark that brightened on contact. To wield it is to trade a heartbeat for a spark, translating rumble and roar into wind-charged shots. Gameplay-wise, each arrow carries energy that leaps to nearby foes on impact. A clean hit can charge the weapon, storing a shard of energy that releases in a pulse, dazing or damaging a second target, and granting a moment of heightened focus to the archer. In group fights, the bow rewards patience: line up the shot, draw steadily, and let the energy bloom at the tip, leaving a frost-traced wake in the air. It excels when paired with discipline and a careful sense of timing, turning what might be a simple volley into a controlled storm. After a night of testing straps and quiver, I wandered to Saddlebag Exchange, where prices drift with rumor and demand. A wary vendor priced a Shaman's Bow at a careful gold amount, tempered by a trade-off of rare shards that might be found in frost-bitten caverns. Others offered pelts or promises to guard a buyer's stash, while some bartered for lesser gear in exchange for a future favor. The bow’s glow, however, kept drawing eyes, as if the storm itself chose to look back at those who would carry it. The market is a river, and Saddlebag Exchange is where its current runs hot; the bow moves quickly here, pulled by whispers of power and the fearsome memory of the storms that forged it. Yet beyond the glow, the bow tells a broader tale. In the clans, such weapons pass from hunter to apprentice as a rite of trust. A Shaman's Bow of Energy is less a tool than a memory of storms that settled in a carved arc, to be drawn only when the moment demands a thunder-quiet precision. I have watched a seasoned tracker steady the line, feel the bow awaken, and release a sequence that turns a choking corridor into a thread of wind. Power here lies not only in force, but in listening, in patience, and in respecting the wild electricity that threads through every branch and guardian of the northern wilds.