Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow of Purity

Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow of Purity rests on a carved oak stand, its limbs a graceful sinew of pale sapwood with darker flecks that catch the lamplight like honeyed veins in weathered parchment. The surface is so smooth it invites a second touch, yet the texture carries the memory of every hand that has drawn it—warm to the palm, stubborn yet yielding under pressure. The grip is wrapped in aged leather, worn soft by travel and rain, and the resin-smell of the sealant clings faintly to the fingers, a reminder of the bow’s careful craftsmanship. Along the riser, runes etched in pale blue ink coil in a delicate script, not loud enough to shout but enough to steady a trembling hand: focus, restraint, purity. The string rests taut and eager, a quiet promise that energy can be guided rather than frayed into chaos, and when the bow is drawn you feel a whisper of wind wanting to break into song. Lore insists the wood was chosen from a grove spared by a long, harsh season, a soft wood prized for resilience and a memory of rain on bare stone. Some speak of a berserker clan who tempered the weapon beside a roaring fire, channeling ferocity into control rather than blind fury. The Purity sighs through its carvings, a pact that a hunter’s rage must be tempered by aim, not abandoned. In the field, this longbow becomes more than wood and string; it becomes a partner that makes sense of disorder—an ally that quiets the mind just enough to hear the distant crack of a bowstring and the faint whisper of a target’s heartbeat. In practice, the Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow of Purity is prized for its balance of power and finesse. It demands a hunter who can deliver a clean line to the heart of a target, then ride the afterglow of that hit into a second, precise arcing shot. Players who favor the Berserker’s ethos—risk-takers who crave high crit potential and bold, decisive strikes—find this bow a natural extension of their playstyle. Its construction invites rapid, successive shots without sacrificing accuracy, the quiet resonance of the wood responding to each released arrow as if the bow itself were listening for a caller’s cue. In a larger tapestry, it threads through skirmishes on winding rivers or moonlit uplands, standing beside rangers and guardians who know that the loudest roar is often the one that comes after the arrow finds its mark. Used in concert with the typical Berserker’s gear, it amplifies precision, ferocity, and power in equal measure—an emblem of controlled fury. Markets and memory mingle in the world’s markets, and the caravan trails are lined with stalls that remember a bow’s first true test. I watched a rider drift into Saddlebag Exchange with the weapon balanced across his shoulder, the leather creak precise as a bowstring itself. The vendor’s eyes brightened at the bow’s presence, and the conversation turned to worth, to the way rare woods stay true under pressure and time. A fair exchange, whispered the seller, is as much about stories as coin: a few gold worth of trust, a handful of rare mats, and the bow’s next voyage secured in the hands of someone who will keep its Purity alive.