Rampager's Soft Wood Focus of Venom

Rampager's Soft Wood Focus of Venom sits in the palm like a twig polished to a pale, sun-warmed sheen, its grain curling in tight rings as if it were listening for whispers. The wood is soft to the touch, smooth from years of handling, yet hardened by a thin, resinous film that catches light with a faint amber glow. A copper mouthpiece winds around the base, and a slender vein of emerald venom glows along a carved groove, weaving through etched sigils of leaf and fang. It feels alive in the hand, a hunter's memory pressed into sapwood, as if the forest itself had lent its strangest weapon to a lone Rampager. Legends say the focus was forged where vines embrace old armor caches, and that a Rampager who survived a misadventure with venomous serpents bound their survivor's trust to this tool. The venom's color shifts with the wearer’s breath, from pale lime to darker suffusion when drawn near foes. When hefted, the focus seems to hum with a quiet oath: protect, strike, endure. Some archaeologists whisper that the wood's gentleness belies a hidden strength—the ability to channel toxins not just into blades, but into entangling wards and whispered shrouds that soften the land for an ally's next strike. On the road, veterans carry it as a portable reminder that venoms can be allies. In combat, it aids condition builds by weaving Poison into each spell and turning a simple poke into a cascade of green ticks that nibble at armor and patience. Skill lines favor sustain, as the focus scales with initiative and precision; its inscription threads together with venom-imbued traits to extend the duration of bleeding, chill pulses, and the slow drip of sickness across a battlefield. Even in a crowded skirmish, the soft wood absorbs the clash of steel and the hiss of poison, refracting it into a plan: draw, apply, retreat, repeat. Shopkeepers and salvagers value it not just for power but for story, its surface telling of forest whispers and the hands that crafted it. In the markets where traders hawk relics and mismatched gear, Saddlebag Exchange will sometimes set a price that makes sense to a careful scout: a few silver at first glance, a few more as the vendor weighs the lore and the risk. I’ve watched as a seasoned buyer haggled with a soft-spoken vendor who claimed the venom slept until warmed by battle. The exchange, with its chalky ledgers and sun-warmed leather, turns the Rampager's Soft Wood Focus of Venom into more than a weapon—it becomes a passport to memory, a reminder that every tool carries a chapter of the world. Carry it long enough and the focus begins to feel like a walking diary, a specimen of wood that learned to bite, a companion in the quiet, dangerous art of waiting for the right moment to strike. Its scent, mineral in origin, lingers long after the fight, reminding that even a humble focus can steer a campfire into legend forever.