Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow

Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow gleams with a pale honey grain, its limbs slender and forgiving, as if the tree itself exhaled into shape. The texture is satin-smooth under the fingers, a subtle flaxen sheen along the riser catching the light with every tiny shift of your hand. The grip is wrapped in weathered leather, darkened by rain and long days of patrol, and the string sings softly when drawn, a tensioned note that promises a clean release. Runes etched in a reddish-brown lacquer run along the limbs, a whisper of old berserker orders and hunts past—memory carved into the wood rather than painted on it. To hold it is to feel the balance of the hunt: a longer reach without fuss, a quicker snap of the wrist that makes distance shrink and fear fade in the moment of decision. In the world where hunters move between shadow and flare, this bow reads like a badge of intent. Its design favors power and precision, a pairing that rewards the patient shot and the bold follow-through. Draw it, and you sense the quiet authority of a weapon that has learned to listen to the weather in the air and to the heartbeat of the target. Its softness of wood keeps the weight manageable for those who chase arrows across uneven ground, yet it does not surrender strength when the moment demands a harder mark. It is the kind of bow that a ranger learns to trust in an open plain as the fog lifts, or in a mountain canyon where wind masks every whisper of danger. Lore threads through its grain—the Berserker name recalling a line of fighters who tempered rage with discipline, who believed that fury could be aimed, not scattered. Gentle in its wood but fierce in purpose, the Soft Wood Longbow travels with stories: the hunter who kept it dry in a storm, the skirmisher who learned to read a rival’s breath in a single draw, the veteran who passed it to a new recruit with a nod and a warning to aim true. Its tone seems to carry the echo of campfire debates and long-night scouting, as if the bow itself were a narrator, not merely a tool. Market mornings bring the practical heartbeat of the weapon into sharper focus. I drifted toward Saddlebag Exchange as tendrils of mist curled along the stalls, where merchants and adventurers trade by ear and eye as much as by coin. A stout vendor laid out a few fragments of bolt and a cluster of longbows, and the Berserker’s Soft Wood Longbow caught the daylight like a spear of autumn light. The tag glinted with a price in silver, a fair ask for something that feels alive in the hand, someone murmured, and a buyer countered with a smile and a handful of copper. After a few breath-held exchanges—the kind of negotiation that makes the room feel smaller—the deal settled in a quiet, confident way. The bow found a new owner, who carried it away with the same careful balance that gave it its name. Carried now through wind and weather, the Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow remains more than wood and string. It is a narrative you can strap to your back, a promise of precision in the chaos, and a reminder that some moments, once drawn, are impossible to un-remember.