Carrion Legionnaire Longbow of Rage

The Carrion Legionnaire Longbow of Rage rests on the oaken table, its limbs pale as bone and etched with a marching line of carrion-skull motifs. The grip—wrapped in frayed leather—sits cool to the touch, while the riser bears a notchwork of runes that glow a dim, feverish blue when the room grows quiet. The finish is smooth but stubbornly textured, as if the wood remembers every arrow ever loosed under the banners of the carrion legion: a band of warden-soldiers who rose and fell beneath a red sky, their rage sealed into wood and sinew. In the lore, this bow was not merely forged but bound; crafted by a quartermaster who spoke to the dead, then tempered in the breath of a ruined battlefield. The Carrion Legionnaire Longbow of Rage is said to drink in fury—the more the wielder tolerates pain, the louder the bow's power becomes. On a night when fog rolled like a veil over silent trenches, it answered a Ranger’s cry with a storm of returning shafts, each shaft singing as it left the string, carving crimson arcs through the air. Those who know the old stories say the bow remembers every hunter who pressed through fear; in moments of rage it grants cruel precision—arrows that find their mark, and a sweeping volley that follows, as if the dead guided the flight. Gameplay-wise, the weapon has a quiet but unmistakable voice. Draw and the world narrows; momentum becomes currency. A first shot bites, a second burns brighter, and a third erupts in light, signaling a moment when every choice counts. For a Ranger who trusts the bow more than his feet, it becomes a partner in a larger narrative: a tool that turns hesitation into momentum and momentum into legend. It’s the kind of weapon that makes a lone hunter feel accompanied by the march of the fallen. Pricewise, the seasoned merchants of Saddlebag Exchange have a ledger for it, and the conversation will hinge on condition, enchants, and stories. A vendor will flip a worn coin, tease the glow from the runes, and tell you that the price will dip or swell with the dawn—depending on who’s listening and what risk the buyer is willing to shoulder. In that market as in the field, the bow’s true worth isn’t just silver and gold, but the fealty it demands from the one who wields it: to channel the storm, to answer a wounded past, and to press on. If you listen closely, the weapon will tell you whether you’re meant to stand and fire, or to strike with a quiet step and a ruthless heart. The Carrion Legionnaire Longbow of Rage is not only a tool but a weather system: it changes you as you move, turning rage into momentum and momentum into a story worth telling long after the arrows have found their mark. Some nights, the bow’s glow tightens in your hands, and you realize the history you bear is now inseparable from its fire.