Shaman's Shiverpeak Handcannon of the Geomancer

Shaman's Shiverpeak Handcannon of the Geomancer sits on the table, a statue of frost and steel. Its barrel is slender and cold to the touch, etched with runes that snake from breech to muzzle like frost patterns on glass. The metal bears a pale blue sheen, speckled with micro-pits that catch flashes of light. The grip is wrapped in weathered leather, the lacing pale as new snow, and the stock bears a low-relief carving of a geode being pried open by a patient hand. When you cradle it, a faint thrum travels up the barrel, a reminder that this handcannon was forged not to conquer, but to listen—to rock, weather, and the memory of a mountain. Legends say a hermit geomancer from Shiverpeak bound a pact into the steel, binding its soul to the mountains’ memory. The gun drinks cold air and exhales frost; each shot carries a breath from the high passes. In combat, it fires a frost-charged round that blooms into an icy shard on impact, chilling foes and cracking the ground beneath their feet, revealing hidden fissures allies can exploit. A skilled hand learns to weave terrain into combat: a well-timed shot can spark a tremor that loosens rock into improvised cover or a stepping-stone for a pursuer. The weapon rewards patience, listening to the ground, and precise timing: shoot too soon and you waste the mountain’s blessing; wait too long and the geode’s signs vanish. Across maps and markets, travelers speak of its role in escorting caravans through frost-wracked passes, of guild hunters who used it to unearth ancient geo-traps, and of scholars who consider it a key to decipher geologic sigils carved into ruin walls. Market life, too, presses its own weather on this relic. I found it first in the bustle of Saddlebag Exchange, where merchants tally value with chalk marks and the clink of coins. A veteran dealer handled the stock with reverent care, tracing the frost runes with a gloved finger and muttering about the Geomancer lineage lending both cunning and fragility to the piece. The ledger’s whispers moved between gold and several gold, depending on how pristine the frost rune remained and how deeply the edge wore from years of use. We traded with a small harvest of emerald drops and a tale or two of mountain winds, and the crowd nodded as if approving a well-told storm. Saddlebag Exchange thrives on stories as much as steel, and this gun’s legend was a currency in itself. Back on cliff paths and frost-scarred ledges, the Shaman's Shiverpeak Handcannon of the Geomancer is more than a weapon; it’s a map and a memory, a partner in the long conversation between traveler and earth. The frost-etch glow, the grip settling into your palm, the weight of history—all remind you to listen first. When the ground answers, when a shot becomes a breath of wind that rearranges the rocks and the fates of those who walk beside you, you understand why the mountain’s voice has always needed a faithful listener—and why this handcannon was made to answer back.