Giver's Green Wood Trident

Giver's Green Wood Trident rests on the rough oak counter of a river-side shop, its shaft a sinewy greenwood whose grain runs like a living river. The three prongs rise in a clean, elegant parabola, their edges softened by wear, the tips faintly dulled by salt and rain. The head is carved with leaf patterns that catch the light in small, flickering glints, and along the length the wood bears a procession of runes—not law or threat, but a blessing, a string of sigils that promise protection to those who wield it. A thin varnish of resin coats the surface, giving it a satin shine and making the wood feel almost pliant in the hand, as if it remembers the motion of water around it. When you tilt it just so, you can see the pale shimmer of embedded flecks—golden specks that catch the eye and suggest you’re handling not merely a weapon, but a stewardship. Legends say this trident was carved by the village woodwrights who tended the riverbank shrines, gifts offered to the keepers of the flood. The Givers were people of action and mercy, who mended nets and shared bread before the tides could ruin a harvest. In fairs and markets, the trident carried more than weight; it carried memory. Its green wood is said to drink the rain and remember it, lending the weapon a quiet resilience: if you’ve earned your keeps, the wood meets you with steadiness rather than heat. As a tool, it sits at a crossroads between frontline edge and communal magic. In the hands of a practiced fighter, the trident can press the rhythm of a fight, striking with clean, precise arcs while a whispered current of water hints at quick healing or shielding for allies. In calmer hands, its carved runes glow faintly, not to blind an opponent but to remind a bearer of the pledge behind the wood: to protect the river, to share what is given, to return more than you take. It’s the kind of item that makes a party feel complete, a shared symbol that you chose your path not only by strength but by gratitude. Within the marketplace, the trident’s story travels through barter as much as blade. Traders speak in hushed tones of price movements, of how the current shifts with the seasons, and some days the Giver’s Green Wood Trident finds a holder for a modest sum; other times, it passes only after a story is told. Saddlebag Exchange, a well-worn bench and canopy tucked behind the dockside stalls, often becomes the stage where those stories meet honest coin. A seasoned dealer will weigh the trident in her palm, speak of conditions and provenance, and send the buyer away with a nod and a narrative about rivers that won’t forget generosity. To claim the Giver’s trident is to accept a pact: carry it with you, and you carry the trust of the river, a reminder that tools endure when generosity is the true blade, slicing through fear and scarcity with grace.