Rampager's Soft Wood Longbow of Water gleams with a wet-sawn sheen, its softwood limbs pale and wavy with grain that looks almost liquid in the right light. The bowstring, braided from eel-silk, carries a faint tremor when drawn, as if the air itself remembers a tidal pull. Along the upper limb, shallow runes coil like gentle currents, and a blue-green glow seems to rinse over the wood when rain-water beads on the resinous finish. The grip is wrapped in salt-stiffened leather, its texture cool and reassuring, and a small amethyst bead hangs from a slender thong near the grip, catching the light with every subtle tremor of the bow as if a tiny pool could bloom inside the wood at any moment. It is not merely a weapon; it carries a memory of rivers—of rain-season floods and quiet streambeds—and those memories seem to settle into the shooter’s hand the moment the bow is lifted. Locally, the lore threads through harvest tents and riverbank camps: a master carver once wandered the marshes, listening to the water’s rhythm, shaping this longbow from the softest, most flexible wood he could find near a bend in the tide. The “of Water” suffix whispers that it was blessed by a currents-worn spirit, tuned to move with the flow rather than oppose it. Hunters who trusted the bow swore that it never rushed the arrow; it waited, then released with a calm, gliding stroke, as if the ocean itself had learned to nod and give way for a moment before the wave returned. In the field, those who wield it say the weapon feels lighter than it should, the aim steadier, and the shot carries a quiet, rain-dampened resonance that makes even the most hurried draw feel deliberate and clean. In gameplay, its role feels like a chorus within a larger story—the kind of weapon that rewards patience and consistency. When drawn, the Soft Wood Longbow seems to pull a trace of tide into the air, granting a sense of trajectory that smooths the turn of a battle rather than rushing it. Arrows cut through wind in a way that feels almost respectful, finding gaps in armor and softening the blow of heavy assaults with precision and tempo. The enchantment’s water-woven affinity echoes through every strike, as if the bow is whispering to other ripples in the world, urging a hunter to bend timing instead of bending the target’s will. Market whispers carry the usual tides of rumor, and it’s in the Saddlebag Exchange where the value of such a piece drifts with the weather. A seasoned dealer might speak in soft, careful tones about the bow’s rarity and its storied grip, hinting at a price that could satisfy a small clan for a season or two, depending on the market’s mood and the rain that week. The exchange floor buzzes with snippets of barter—the clink of coins, a trade for furs, a stake in dried fish—yet the Rampager’s Soft Wood Longbow of Water always returns to the conversation as a rare convergence of craft and current, a reminder that some tools carry more than power: they carry the memory of water, and the hands that learned to listen to it.