Cleric's Soft Wood Short Bow of Nullification

Cleric's Soft Wood Short Bow of Nullification rests on a market stall like a whispered relic, its curve a gentle arc of pale ash that glows faintly under lantern light. The wood feels almost breathable, as if the grain itself remembers every passing season, smooth to the touch, yielding under a careful press of finger pads. The grip is wrapped in muted suede that has darkened to a soft caramel by years of handling, and the string—tight as a prayer—carries a silvery gleam that hints at something other than simple sinew. Along the belly, a slender sigil is inlaid with leather-thin inlays of brass, a motif of a hollowed bell and a nod to silence, a promise that what the weapon takes from a foe it will return as quiet, not as noise. Lorekeepers whisper that this bow was carved by a monastery craftsman who traded in the secrets of sound and stillness, a gift to a healer who wandered with caravans and kept pace with prayers spoken under open skies. It is said the wood remembers footsteps and the iron rings on the string remember oaths, and when the two come together, the weapon becomes more than wood and cord; it becomes a conduit for a particular kind of mercy. In the hands of an archer trained to listen, the cleric’s bow becomes a narrative device on the field. Its Nullification edge is not merely a stat line but a moment—an offsetting silence that creeps into the aura around a target. A shot strikes and the surrounding enchantments falter for a heartbeat, as if a sudden hush fell over a chorus. Allies sense it as a moment of clarity, a window to press the advantage without fear of a rival spell turning the tide. Enemies feel it as a sting in their defenses, a chink where a shield or boon might have stood. It isn’t about raw power; it’s about timing and restraint, about turning magic’s own momentum into a pause from which a team can move decisively. In a larger story, the bow becomes a symbol of stewardship—its true strength lies in choosing when to release, when to let a foe stumble into the mercies of a counterstrike rather than pushing through with brute force. The bow’s place in trade is a tale in itself, carried through caravan streets and alley markets by the same fingers that used it to temper harsh spells. At Saddlebag Exchange, the ledger breathes with the weight of wood and myth, where a buyer and seller negotiate beneath the rustle of canvas. The price skates along the line between rarity and utility, influenced by scarcity of the softwood, the season’s enchantment demand, and how many healers or rangers need a quiet edge against a screaming crowd of spellcasters. A coin or two changes hands, a name is exchanged, and the cleric’s bow moves again from one story to the next, its whispers traveling with the wind as surely as the arrow’s flight. So the Cleric’s Soft Wood Short Bow of Nullification endures, not simply as a weapon but as a living chronicle: soft wood resisting the world’s noise, a promise that silence can carry as much weight as sound, and a reminder that in the right hands, quiet can be a force worth fighting for.