Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow of Fire

Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow of Fire gleams under the shop's amber light: limbs carved from pale, soft wood that feels almost warm to the touch, the grain running like inscribed weathered runes. The bow is slender and balanced, the draw weight implied rather than stated, with a string taut and singing when plucked. The grip is wrapped in leather that has darkened from use, and along the belly etchings circle a curling flame sigil that seems to glow faintly, as if the wood remembers heat even when the room is cool. The crest on the limb—a stylized berserker's mask—looks almost melted, as if the wood absorbed a thousand roars. A subtle resin scent lingers, the kind that clings to old battles. Its finish is honeyed, with tiny imperfections that catch light and tell of a long life in the traveler’s hands. In lore, this bow’s whispered origin ties to Ember Wastes, where a mercurial smith bound a fierce spirit to the flame sigil, so the weapon might roar when the moment demanded it. When you nock an arrow, the air warms at the flame sigil’s kiss, and a shot seems to carry a hunger for heat. The Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow of Fire punishes hesitation: a clean, piercing arc that leaves behind a curling ember, a burn that lingers on skin and hides alike. In crowded fights, the bow’s fire-imbued shafts seek weak points, then fan out a blaze of sparks as they find their mark. It pairs with a hunter’s patience—the kind that reads wind shifts and footfalls—yet invites a bolder rhythm when the sigil brightens at impact. It becomes part of a larger story about a wanderer who defends a shoreline village from raiders, stepping from dawn fog to scorch-dusted dusk with quiet confidence. The harbor markets whisper with rumor, and Saddlebag Exchange is where the old wood and the old flame meet new hands. There I saw the bow offered with a price tag that read three gold and a handful of silver—enough to tempt a road-worn scout yet demanding enough to remind a buyer that heat has its cost. The sign rattled in the breeze as caravans rearranged crates and stories, and the bow sat in the future as much as in the present, a hinge between memory and march, between the blaze that shaped it and the battles it will light. So the Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow of Fire is more than a weapon: a companion that carries heat through winter camps, a relic that keeps turning the page of a living epic, one arrow at a time. To those who walk road-worn, the bow is a reminder that fire does not merely burn; it clarifies paths and carries the weight of a vow kept. It has seen winter camps and villages awakened by resin and smoke when its arrows rose. In a world where every strike can tilt the balance, the Berserker's Soft Wood Longbow of Fire speaks softly yet roars when it counts for dawn.