Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow of Smoldering

Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow of Smoldering rests on the stall like a captured ember, its limbs carved from pale, whisper-thin wood whose grain runs in rivered swirls, and the grip worn smooth as a well-traveled road. The bow’s surface glints with a satin lacquer that catches lamplight, yet if you press your cheek to the curve you’ll feel a heat there, as if the timber still remembers a forge. A heartbeat of ember glows faintly at the bow’s heart, a tiny, patient furnace that pulses in time with the archer’s breath. Along the belly, sigils are burned into the wood—faces of old flame-wraiths and a line of runes that promise steadiness in the long shot—while the string hums with a taut, dark resilience, ready to snap the moment the draw begins. This is a weapon born of campfire lore and brisk trades, a talisman that traveled from a berserker’s roaming camp to a market square, where the world seems to thin to a few meters of longing and aim. The Soft Wood itself is celebrated for its resilience under heat, a practical miracle for nights spent near coals and tents that flap like angry bats. The Smoldering enchantment isn’t merely a glow; it’s a memory of heat held under control, an ember that travels with the arrow and clings to the target long enough to paint its skin with a burn that lingers after the flame-devourers have moved on. Some tell its legend in whispers—the bow remembers a siege, the berserker who faced down frost and flame alike, and the weapon learned to carry that temper without cracking, without losing its edge. In terms of gameplay, the bow invites a certain ferocity—the kind of archer who trusts pace and courage over patient, plodding harborage. It bears the hallmarks of Berserker gear: power that pushes a strike past the ordinary, precision that finds the weak points in armor, and ferocity that makes every headlong shot feel like a dare. When you string the bow to its full draw, you feel the room tilt toward your aim, and the first arrow leaves with a whistle that sounds almost like a whisper from a crowded forge. Hit a mark, and the Smoldering effect blooms, coating the target in heat that suppresses regeneration and heightens the impact of your follow-up shots. It’s the kind of weapon that rewards a bold, aggressive rhythm—pull, release, and step into the next shot before the first burn cools. Market stories color the rest of its journey. I watched a seller pull a count of coins from a leather pouch while a passerby argued the value at Saddlebag Exchange, where a well-kept version of this bow could float between 1 gold and 2 gold depending on who’s listening to whom and how the day’s supply looks. The vendor leaned in, telling a fragment of the bow’s tale, and the buyer nodded, knowing the exchange isn’t only about metal and wood but about the memory carried in each finger’s touch—the way heat holds in a flame, the way a longbow holds a moment. By dusk, the ember’s glow on the Soft Wood reminded us that some weapons are less about conquest than continuation—passing from hand to hand, from legend to new chapter, a small blaze that never quite goes out.