Berserker's Soft Wood Focus of Bloodlust

Berserker's Soft Wood Focus of Bloodlust rests in the palm like a seed of anger waiting to bloom, its body carved from a pale soft wood that bears the warm, quiet sheen of dawn. The grain runs in tight, honeyed rings, a map of a fevered forest pressed into living timber. The edges are sanded smooth enough to kiss the skin, yet the surface beneath holds a subtle heartbeat, a tremor that travels up the fingertips when the focus is held just so. A thin line of dark resin runs along the spine, catching the light and seeming to hold a sliver of shadow. Coppery runes spiral around the mouth, etched with patient care, and a single bead of blood-red glass rests at the core, pulsing with each measured breath like a pulse of feral life. It isn’t just its appearance that makes the focus feel alive. The lore tucked into its grain speaks of a berserker camp where elder trees offered shelter to those who would braid their rage with wood and wind. The Bloodlust—its very name—arrives not as a boast but as a vow: a pact between wielder and wood that fury can be channeled, not simply unleashed. Legends say the craftsman who first shaped it slept with the forest’s whisper on his lips, listening until the wood learned to hold a fraction of the warrior’s blaze. When the focus finds a hand, it seems to hum with that history, as if every token of rage left in battle is absorbed and tempered into clarity. In the hands of a seasoned fighter, the focus becomes a conduit rather than a crutch. It refines the tempo of a skirmish, guiding raw vigor into purpose. When a spell arcs from the caster, the Soft Wood Focus of Bloodlust snaps that energy into a sharper edge, nudging precision up and widening the window for critical strikes. It isn’t merely about raw damage; it’s about rhythm—the moment when a dash becomes a blink and a heel-turn becomes a feint that bleeds into the next spell. For a Berserker, it’s almost a pact: the wood remembers the blood, the blood remembers the wood, and the two together remember the name of victory. In the field, it lends durability to a fragile cadence of attack, letting a warrior push through a brutal rotation with a little more grace in between shouts and chops. Nearest markets tell of such artifacts in motion, passed from hand to weathered market stall and back again as demands shift with the seasons. Saddlebag Exchange, a name spoken with a low whistle by traders who know the smell of resin and rain, has curated it in recent days with a price that tilts between dream and debt: roughly in the high golds, a sum that makes a hunter of value pause in the counting and listen for the whisper of a better deal. It’s the kind of price that makes a buyer peer at the wood’s grain as if to read another battle in it, and the kind of price that makes a seller smile with a knowing tilt of the head, knowing that this focus is more than a tool—it’s a thread stitching a larger, wandering world together. So the Berserker’s Soft Wood Focus of Bloodlust remains more than metal and magic. It’s a tangible memory of those who carved order from chaos, a story told in grain and glow, ready to be gripped, felt, and let loose again where the road becomes a line of fire.