Strong Rawhide Shoulders

Strong Rawhide Shoulders glimmer with a stubborn, sun-worn sheen, a thick plate of tanned leather layered in muted panels that rise and curve to cradle the shoulder like a weathered shield strapped to a traveler’s frame. The texture carries a lived-in memory: the grain is tight and echoing with every flex, the edges sanded smooth by days of rain and road, and tiny rivets knotted with dark iron that catch the light with a patient glint. A seam runs along the upper edge, a deliberate stitch and quiet promise that the piece won’t fail when the wind sharpens or a bonders’ sledge clatters on a cobbled caravan road. If you cradle the inside, you can smell a faint resin tang, the scent of resin and oil that scented the workshops where leather and lore meet. There’s a small crest pressed into the back—an emblem of a long-forgotten caravan line—faintly worn but still legible, as if the name itself endured within the leather as much as on the pages of any logbook. Lore, in this world, clings to objects as surely as the dust clings to a boot. They say the Strong Rawhide Shoulders once kept a guard stable through a hundred dusk crossings, each patch a memory from a different market, a different horizon. Some folks murmur that the hides were cured under salt winds by a master tanner who traded stories as freely as he traded hides, a man who taught his apprentices that resilience can be fashioned from something you can’t rush. The shoulders, in turn, seem to whisper back—a quiet reminder that strength isn’t just weight in the arm, but the willingness to carry a load long after others have set down their pack. Worn by traders, maochers, and shield-bearers, the piece has traveled with them on oiled rails of a caravan, bearing sun, rain, and the hum of distant markets into the same afternoon. In gameplay terms, the Strong Rawhide Shoulders are a sturdy anchor for a mid-tier build, a practical choice for explorers who need protection without sacrificing mobility. They sit at the shoulder where wind and arrows threaten the most—offering a reliable barrier that keeps the torso safer while you lean into a sprint or a climb. They pair well with lighter gauntlets and a cloak that catches the same breath of air, letting you stay ready for a stash of crates at the edge of a camp or a skirmish with a wandering foe. Because leather moves with you, they don’t slow a hunter or a messenger; they let your character feel the road, not just wear the road. The market, of course, is a living character in this story. I watched a weary trader jostle a crate and bargain with a passerby near the dockside stalls, the kind of exchange where a coin purse is weighed against a tale. At Saddlebag Exchange, a Strong Rawhide Shoulders could swing in the balance for roughly eight to twelve silver, depending on season and mood, then drift a little higher if the seller could spin a story about its journey through salt and sun. A traveler might trade a small map case or a handful of worn pelt scraps for it, and the coin would vanish into a cloth-wrapped sack while the stall’s owner offered a nod and a push to the next page of the caravan’s ledger. The shoulder piece thus becomes not merely gear, but a thread in the larger tapestry—carved from hide, worn on the body, and carried forward by the stories of those who would rather walk than wait for the road to come to them.