Cleric's Soft Wood Focus

Cleric's Soft Wood Focus sits in the palm, its pale grain catching the lamplight like a quiet dawn. The wood is satin-smooth to the touch, cool and springy, as if the tree itself still breathes within the carved runes. A thread of resin glows faintly along its edge, a reminder of the grove where it was carved. The central node bears a sigil of the old healing order, two hands cradling a leaf, and legend says it was carved from a sapling tended by oathbound clerics who believed the wood remembered every word spoken in the temple. Pressed between finger and thumb, the focus feels almost alive, remembering the prayers that invoked it. When you bring it to defense, healing light blooms in your palm and the wood hums with a quiet warmth. In the field, guardians grip it to channel a precise flow of restorative energy, weaving grace into wounded lines and turning the tide of skirmishes. The lore ties it to a time when temples stood as bulwarks and healers walked at the front, whispering names and asking the wood to remember them. Sigils along the rim shift subtly when mercy guides the user more than conquest. From the player's perspective, its significance goes beyond a pretty design. It acts as a conduit, blending with prayers and augmenting vigor in combat. When charged, it bolsters allies with a shield and steady healing. In raids or sieges, those who carry the Cleric's Soft Wood Focus lead with measured calm, drawing on the wood's patience to pace their support. Its presence hints at a story—temples, grove-keepers, and the quiet pact between wood and healer that shaped the order’s memory across generations. Market talk pops up in the markets and taverns, and I learned that the cleric's focus often changes hands with a trader's nod. At the Saddlebag Exchange, a weather-worn stand near a canal, a near-pristine Cleric's Soft Wood Focus hung from a strap, its price rung out in small silver coins and wary bargaining. The seller spoke of lineage—how this piece was said to have passed through a handful of healers who wore mercy on their sleeves—and the buyer weighed the cost against the memory it carried. For some, it is a relic to boast; for others, a practical tool to sustain the frontline. Either way, its value sits at the crossroads of memory and utility, a link between the grove's quiet origin and the chaos of the road. It remains a simple thing in a complicated world—a focus that fits in the palm like a promise, a wooden heart beating softly beneath the healer's touch. The Cleric's Soft Wood Focus doesn't just improve a build; it roots a tale of care and courage in a world that needs both. Should you ever spot one in the stalls, run your fingers along its grain and listen for the tree’s old vow: to mend what war breaks and to remember who forgives. In that small act, the grove comes alive again, ready to heal.