Rampager's Soft Wood Torch of Hobbling

Rampager's Soft Wood Torch of Hobbling sits in the crook of a finger, a fragile thing for a silhouette on the move. The wood is pale as first light over driftwood, weathered to a satin grain that yields softly to the touch, as if the tree itself agreed to be a companion rather than a tool. The handle is wrapped in worn leather that’s grown slick with use, a few frayed threads catching on every glint of torchlight. Its brass cap glows subtly, catching the flame and bending it into a steady, almost patient glow. When you lift it, the flame licks with a quiet hunger, throwing amber halos on stone walls and turning shadow into a speaking partner. The weapon’s name is carved along the barrel in a tight, looping script, Rampager’s emblem threaded through the letters like a memory pressed into wood. And just beneath the runes, a slender hobbling rune runs in a delicate spiral, a reminder that this torch was not meant to blaze a path so much as guide a path away from danger. Lorekeepers say it was forged for those who stalk the margins—people who move where the light is thin and the truth is thinner still. It is a tool for the ambush that becomes a pact with the night: a flame that invites a foe to pause, to misstep, to lose their footing for a breath that might decide everything. In the field, the torch has its own stubborn choreography. It isn’t merely a light; it is a signal. A steady, measured glow can reveal a hidden switchback in a forest trail or a concealed cache beneath a fallen log. The soft wood’s texture isn't just tactile—it’s forgiving under a hunter’s grip, absorbing sweat and rain while the flame remains a stubborn, warm core. The Hobbling enchantment—subtle enough that an alert eye catches it only in the moment of contact—seems to press a breath into the air around a target, a brief stumble that buys a team a heartbeat to press forward or fall back. It’s not a brute force weapon; it’s a patient aid in pursuit and escape, a companion for those who prize stealth and speed in equal measure. That balance makes this torch feel like more than a collectible: it’s woven into the larger story of the road between guard posts and market stalls, between skirmish and story. When dawn turns the caravan road to gold, riders pause at the edge of the Saddlebag Exchange, trading tales and wares with the same practiced ease they trade glances with the torch’s glow. Here, the Rampager’s Soft Wood Torch of Hobbling takes on a price that tells a story in itself—an asking price of around twelve silver, negotiable for a tale about a well-earned raid or a night spent guarding a convoy. The vendor’s voice softens as the flame catches the edge of a lockbox, and in that moment the torch becomes more than metal and wood; it becomes an emblem of the road, a memory passed from hand to hand, and a quiet, stubborn light in a world that moves too quickly to see every detail.