Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow

Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow rests on the table, its limbs a slender ribbon of pale, softly grained wood, lacquered in a sun-warmed amber that catches the torchlight like a settled forest glow. The grip is wrapped in worn brown leather, the seams dark with resin, and the string sits taut enough to hum with anticipation when you lift it. Along the core of each limb run shallow runes, precise as footprints in fresh snow, tiny marks that seem to spark into life when the bow is drawn and the wood remembers the hand that coaxed it into shape. The surface is smooth to the touch, a texture that invites patience: the wood yields just enough to forgive a mistimed shot, then snaps back with a fierce memory of its prior bend. It feels almost alive, a living tool forged to follow a poised, patient will through wind and rain. Lore whispers that these soft-wood bows were favored by nomadic rangers who threaded the fog and frost, whose paths braided through forests where resiliency mattered as much as reach, and who believed the wood’s gentle give allowed swifter recoveries after a bold strike. In the world where battle lines often stretch into long horizons, the Berserker’s tag on this bow signals a brutal truth: Power, Precision, Ferocity. It is built for the glass-cannon approach, where a hunter stands at the edge of danger, drawing a bead with the calm of a hunter who has learned the forest’s language. The bow rewards careful timing—one well-placed arrow can crack a shield, a single high-crit strike can tilt a skirmish, and the forgiving grain eases a misstep in a gusting wind. When a ranger learns to weave terrain with shot selection, this weapon ceases to be merely a tool and becomes a partner in a larger story—the way a campfire story grows with each telling, each shot a sentence that pushes the narrative toward a hard-won victory. In open-world wanderings and in coordinated assaults alike, its range extends the arc of an encounter, letting a lone archer influence a crowd of foes, or carve a safe lane for allies to slip through. The longbow’s reach matters in dynamic events, in patrols that hinge on a split second, and in the quiet patience of a mark aimed at the heart of a threat before it can surge forward. For those who roam from caravan to caravan, money is a map as much as a measure. Saddlebag Exchange becomes a living part of this story, a place where a Berserker’s Soft Wood Longbow might trade hands not just for gold but for stories, favors, and passage on the next leg of the journey. A hawker might price it with coins that glint like sunlight on steel, while another trader offers barter that speaks of shared trails and the promise of mutual aid. The bow’s value, after all, is not only in its raw stats but in the memories it carries—the hunts it has fed, the guards it has kept, the miles it has carried you across. And so the weapon endures, a quiet chorus between wood and will, a companion on the road that still remembers the first breath of a forest when the string first sang.