Rampager's Soft Wood Torch of Air

Rampager's Soft Wood Torch of Air rests on the trader's weathered counter, a slender beacon carved from pale softwood. The shaft is so smooth you could pass your knuckles along its grain without snagging, and scented with resin that hints at rain and pine. Its head is a brass nozzle perched over a small glass vial, within which a pale blue flame trembles as if listening to the wind. A leather thong wraps the base, and a tiny sigil—an air-stirring rune etched in fine copper wire—curls along the length, catching the lamplight in a way that makes the runes seem to hurry with every breath of air. The whole thing feels almost pliant, as if the torch remembers the touch of a hand that once coaxed it to life in a storm-lit camp. Locally, artisans say the Rampagers of the hill clans cut such torches from the softwood that grows where the wind rides low, then sanctify them with a whisper and a gust of scented smoke. They speak of a lineage that trusted flame less to burn than to reveal; the soft wood accepted heat and then yielded a glow that didn’t scorch, a small flame that obeyed the world’s breath. When you lift Rampager's Soft Wood Torch of Air, the air seems to lean in, and you can see striations in the flame’s glow like tiny weather fronts moving across a map of the night. In practice, the torch is more than a source of light; it’s a companion for travelers who walk in damp forests, around fog-wrapped ruins, or into caverns where the wind rattles stones and the bats keep quiet. The gentle blue flame holds a cool warmth, and as you tilt it, the flame shifts with the breeze, almost answering the gusts as if your torch shared your own heartbeat. In a pinch it can signal allies by waving a brush of blue; in a pinch it can coax a spark from damp tinder, enough to coax a clear campfire where there was only a whisper of smoke. Its Air affinity is said to lend a finger of calm to the user, reducing the sting of wind-chill and guiding the way with a fraction more sure-footedness. The price, as I learned while wandering between wagons and tents, sits in the ledger of Saddlebag Exchange, where traders gaze at a glint of steel and reckon worth with a judge’s hand. Two silver, the stall banner claims, and perhaps a chipped compass if the crowd is generous; some days the haggling stretches beyond a single sunset until a hand shakes on a deal. Carrying Rampager's Soft Wood Torch of Air feels like carrying a small oath—light, faithful, and a touch wiser than its owner might deserve. By night’s edge, the torch doesn’t just illuminate a path—it invites you to listen to the world’s quiet breath, invites you to walk a little more gently, and to trust that even soft wood can carry a wind’s memory.