Carrion Tribal Speargun of Blood

The Carrion Tribal Speargun of Blood sits on the table like a relic pulled from a fever dream: a long stock of weathered riverwood, dark as wet ash, etched with spirals that gleam faintly in lamp light. The grip is wrapped in patched leather strips that have softened to a coppery patina, and along the fore-end bone fragments peek out like teeth of a drying maw. The barrel is a brutal elegance, a segmented tube lacquered in a living crimson that glows when the night hushes around you. A ring of copper bands, studded with chipped jade, anchors the mechanism, and a length of sinew ties the firing lever to the trigger so that even the gentlest touch can send a hull of iron and bone through the air. It looks, in short, like a weapon that favors patient hands and brave hearts, a hunter’s tool that has learned to drink the blood of its quarry and leave the world a touch paler for it. In its lore, the Carrion tribe kept this speargun as a totem for trackers who hunted beneath blood-red moons. They believed the weapon traded a portion of the hunter’s life for a promise of a swift kill; the blood of the slain would anneal the iron, and the harpoon would drink the life from the target as it found its mark. Fables tell of nights when the gun murmured in the hand of a silent hunter, guiding the hunter’s breath to the moment of truth, turning fear into precision and the living into a memory etched in crimson. In practice, the weapon’s presence is felt as soon as you notch a shot. Its harpoon bolts slice cleanly through leather and mail alike, and each successful hit drapes the target in a vivid bleed that lingers, pressuring foes to retreat or stumble into follow-up control from teammates. The Carrion Speargun’s strength lies in its versatility: you can isolate a frontline threat from the pack, peel armor away with measured, deliberate shots, and then pivot to a more aggressive stance as your lifeforce pools rise with every bleed you propagate. The “of Blood” lineage isn’t just a name—it hints at a sanguine weave in the weapon’s enchantment, a subtle lifesteal or energy return woven into its pulses for those who lean into lifebond builds. Players who enjoy weaving blood-typed conditions into a tempo-filled skirmish will find the gun rewards patience, positioning, and a habit of reading the battlefield as a living map of crimson threads. Prices drift in the market like a tide you can almost hear in the wood itself. On certain mornings, you’ll hear whispers among traders that a carrier’s pouch could sway the scales, a rumor that the Saddlebag Exchange—that bustling, sunlit corridor of stalls and stories—now holds the ledger for such relics. A veteran with scarred hands once told me he paid more than he intended for the honor of owning this exact model, but that is the language of these relics: history costs coin and courage, and the right buyer reads the value in the weapon’s weight of memory as much as in its damage. So, the Carrion Tribal Speargun of Blood remains not merely a tool of the hunt but a chapter you carry into every skirmish, a story etched into oak, copper, and bone that keeps unfolding with each pull of the trigger.