Strong Soft Wood Longbow of Fire

Strong Soft Wood Longbow of Fire gleams on the market counter, its limbs pale and smooth as a feathered river-willow, the grain curling like smoke as if the bow itself remembers heat. The grip is wrapped in weather-dark leather, snug to the palm, while a thin brass ferrule anchors the nocks with a quiet, stubborn gleam. The upper limb bears a delicate flame motif carved in relief, and when the sun catches it just right, tiny amber motes flicker along the grain as if embers kept their own weather. A faint warmth lingers in the wood, a friendly reminder that this isn’t merely wood and string but a small pact with fire. Lore travels with the bow as surely as any rider. It is said to be forged in the shadowed workshops of a hunter who learned to listen to the ash and the ash-wind, a craftsman who bargained with the keeps of ember-touched clans. The soft wood, harvested from a tree that grows near volcanic vents, is celebrated for its resilience and light feel—perfect for long takes and precise shots. The flame motif is more than ornament; it marks a bond to a lineage of fire-tamers who believed that heat could temper fear as surely as it tempered steel. When drawn, the string sings with a low, almost contented note, and the arrow it looses leaves a trace of warmth in the air, a whisper of flame that lingers on stone and hide. In battle, the Strong Soft Wood Longbow of Fire acts as both weapon and beacon. An archer who chooses it makes a statement: that a mission can be as patient as a shot and as sudden as a spark. The arrows fletch with a burn that erupts on contact, not merely scorching armor but knitting a slow, persistent burn into the target. It is prized by rangers who favor control and timing—the bow’s pace invites a hunter to wait for the ideal moment, to let the flame do the work after the hit lands. In skirmishes against packs that hate the cold sting of steel but fear the bright strike of flame, this bow shines. It turns battles into a dance of release and restraint, where the fire’s aftermath keeps enemies off balance long after the shot has flown. Market whispers carry the bow’s name farther than its flame alone. Traders speak of the Saddlebag Exchange as a rough-and-ready waystation for such wares, a place where caravans post asks and haggle over a few copper here, a handful of silver there. The Strong Soft Wood Longbow of Fire tends to draw a price that rises with the length of its legend: the longer its tale travels, the finer the trade, and the more anxious the buyer becomes to claim a weapon that feels like a promise kept. A seasoned dealer will tell you that you don’t merely buy a weapon—you invest in a memory of heat: the moment a hunter steadies the shot, the breath held, the fire answering back with a whispered crack. And so the bow rests in its wooden case, warmed by the day’s travels, awaiting a new hand to cradle its curve, to trust the warmth in its wood, to ride the line between stillness and blaze. In that space between grip and release, the Strong Soft Wood Longbow of Fire keeps its vow: to light the dark without burning the hands that wield it.