Rampager's Soft Wood Longbow of Air

Rampager's Soft Wood Longbow of Air rests on the scarred oak table, its pale limbs catching the room’s lamplight like a quiet sunrise. The bow’s frame is slender and springy, the grain a satin ribbon of pale amber that seems to whisper with every breath of air that curls through the room. The grip is wrapped in worn leather, browned by a thousand miles of grip and snow, and the string—twisted sinew—holds a subtle tremor, as if the bow itself is listening for a breeze it can ride. Along the riser runes drift in charcoal swirls, wind-etched circles that coil toward the tips, suggesting a pact between wood and air. The nock bears a carved feather, as if a small hawk had left its signature there, and a bead of amber sits at the end, catching the glow when an arrow passes through the light. It feels surprisingly light in the hand, almost buoyant, as if the bow longs to lift its bearer toward the next hilltop. If one believes the old stories, the Soft Wood was chosen not for straightness alone but for memory—the way it remembers storms and the way the wind bends around it without breaking. Some say a woodwright who listened to gusts forged it, while others claim a hunter who rode the updrafts of a mountain pass wore a similar grace into the timber. When you nock an arrow and draw, the room seems to thin to a thread, and the bow doesn’t scream with force so much as sings with intent. The air itself appears to coach the shot, guiding the shaft toward the center with a humility that only wind could teach. In the field, its significance echoes far beyond the quiet elegance of its design. This is a bow that favors speed and precision, traits cherished by scouts and free-runners who live by split-second decisions. Its soft wood yields a touch more give than stiffer lumbers, smoothing the recoil that follows a clean release and allowing a hunter to string together rapid shots with recovering tempo. Paired with a mindset that prizes mobility and the elements, Rampager’s Soft Wood Longbow of Air becomes a storyteller’s instrument: a tool that turns a skirmish into a dance, where each arrow writes a line of the world’s wind into the air. It’s a weapon meant for hunters who move with the wind, not against it—who read terrain like a page and use every breeze to their advantage. Prices drift through markets like rumor and smoke, and the story of this bow is no exception. I found it in the bustle near the quays, where the Saddlebag Exchange hums with barter and bold promises. A vendor there priced Rampager’s Soft Wood Longbow of Air with a price that drifted in the gold range, a figure flexible enough to reflect a good day’s conversation and a buyer’s patience. He spoke softly of demand—how the bow travels quickly from pocket to pouch, how its aura of air-lift gives travelers hope that a single shot might tilt a skirmish in their favor. Yet he also reminded me that in this market, nothing sits forever; a hunter with a keen eye can walk away with a bargain if the wind shifts just right. And so the bow passes from shop to hand, from story to street, bearing the same quiet promise: to kiss the air, to carve through distance, and to remind its bearer that the world’s edge is always a breath away.