Carrion Verdant Spear of Water

The Carrion Verdant Spear of Water rests in my gloved palm, cool as a moonlit pool. The blade is long, a tempered fusion of bone-white edge and obsidian-dark core. The shaft is pale driftwood braided with green kelp, meeting a head wrapped in translucent emerald resin that shivers with every breath. Along the haft run sigils that glow faintly when mist meets sun. It smells faintly of brine and rain, a paradox of life and decay. Verdant is etched in a spidery script that rearranges itself when you tilt it, as if a river redraws its banks. At the base, a small carrion-bird sculpture is bound to the haft by copper threads, as if decay and renewal had made a silent pact. Some say it was found beneath a drowned statue of a river goddess, its resin still breathing with current. In whispered river-dark corners, the spear is more than a weapon; it is a covenant. When an ally wavers, its aura ripples outward, coaxing strength from the air and drawing life from the weary, returning it with interest. In battle it cleaves through fog and wind, water magic blurring the line between sword and surge. Those who wield it learn to time their strikes to flood the field—stun, heal, and push back the front line with a surge of liquid force. The weapon does not crave glory; it asks for patience—watch the tide, listen for rain, and your foe will fall into a well of breath wasted. The spear’s heart quickens when beside a river, and a true keeper of water can coax it to reveal a hidden path through ruin. Markets are a different river, and here old sailors trade legends. In the markets near the Saddlebag Exchange, a Carrion Verdant Spear of Water is priced by temper and tales. A well-kept copy runs around two gold and fifty silver; rarer specimens—runes glow a deeper green—pull a higher price and longer lines of buyers. The chatter is not just about DPS but about stories stitched into the haft—who held it when the storms rose, what debts were owed to the river. Traders speak of pawls and repairs, resin that must be renewed, leather that softens with use. It becomes more than metal here: a thread tying caravan to shore, a rumor that becomes a route. Carry it through a ruined temple, and you hear the water in its seams answering back—a green hum promising gravity and growth. For storytellers and players alike, the Carrion Verdant Spear of Water is not just loot; it’s a character, a guide, a tide that never recedes. It lends courage in drought and mercy in rot, a reminder that even in decay there is something salvageable, something to drink from the river of memory.