Healing Shiverpeak Short Bow of Agony

Healing Shiverpeak Short Bow of Agony gleams frost-blue in the lamplight, its limbs carved from pale Shiverpeak yew and stitched with sinew that tightens like a held breath. The grip is wrapped in weathered leather, its surface etched with ice-rimed runes that pulse faintly whenever the bow is drawn. Along the belly, a thread of pale frost trails from one tip to the other, catching the light as if a shard of night itself were trapped within the wood. The nock bears a weathered crest—a jagged ridge cut into stone by winter storms—and the string sighs softly when flexed, a sound that feels almost like a whisper of mercy. The weapon’s surface carries more than beauty; it carries memory. It is told in the valleys and among travelers that this bow was tempered in the long winter after the Shiverpeak passes, where healers learned to turn pain into relief. The “Agony” in its name is not a boast but a ledger—a reminder that suffering can be transmuted through craft and care. Legend says a guardian-healer named Lirien carried it through ice-choked corridors, drawing beasts away from wounded companions and shaping each arrow’s tip into a conduit of comfort. The bow’s frost-haunted glow deepens when it draws near those who ache, guiding its wielder to the right moment to release not just a shot, but a blessing. In the world where skirmishes flare along frozen ridges and caravans press through snow-dusted routes, the Healing Shiverpeak Short Bow of Agony has its place beyond mere damage. Its arrows are small acts of stewardship, each one releasing a healing pulse that mends torn muscle and steadies a shuddering breath. It is the instrument of a ranger who knows when to bend the arc of battle toward mercy, who stands at the edge of a clash and steady's a comrade’s hand with a well-timed shot. The weapon makes the ranger a tether between front-line pressure and the quiet pull of relief, turning the momentum of a fight into a story of second chances. It doesn’t merely hurt foes; it anchors hope, letting a line of fighters press forward because they know a healing breath rides the next gust of wind. Prices and whispers drift through markets as surely as wind through a pine grove. In the Saddlebag Exchange, merchants trade stories as eagerly as goods, and the bow finds itself spoken of in hushed tones and open boasts alike. A seasoned trader will trade glances with a buyer, noting how winter scarcity or a surge of healers can shift value, then name a price that glints like frost on the edge of a blade. One season the tag might swing toward gold; another, toward copper and agreement. The tale remains constant, though—the Healing Shiverpeak Short Bow of Agony is a relic that binds battlefield grit to quiet mercy, a weapon that reminds everyone in the trade lanes that even in the harshest storms, relief can be found between the ready hands of those who remember where mercy lives.