Cavalier's Glyphic Trispear

Cavalier's Glyphic Trispear sits on the worn tabletop like a relic ripped from a memory of wind and hoofbeats. The head is a triad of steel, three slender prongs that flare from a central crown, each tip honed to a whisper. The metal wears a pale frost-blue patina, as if moonlight had kissed it and never let go, and along the blade's belly runes—glyphs etched with patient precision that glow faintly whenever the weapon catches a stray beam. The shaft is ash-dark wood, lacquered to a mirror smoothness, with a wrap of braided leather spiraling toward a handguard shaped like a rider's gauntlet. The whole thing gives off a resinous smell of oil and old leather, a scent that seems to tether the present to the long nights of skirmish and parade. Old caravan lore says it was forged for the Cavalier Order that once patrolled the border passes between kingdoms. The glyphs tell of charges and banners, of horses that learned to trust metal rasp and wind, of a rider who could ride under a storm and trust the trispear to hold the line. When drawn, the three prongs fan out like a trefoil, catching light and glinting at the edge of vision, as if the weapon itself remembers every spear-broken shield it ever met. On the field of battle, it's less a simple spear than a story you tell with your hands. The three points give you a wider arc, a chance to pierce gaps in armor, to pin a foe while teammates close in. A skilled cavalier can threaten multiple enemies in a single lunge, or deflect a shield bash and carve a clean path through the front line. For players, the Glyphic Trispear isn't just cosmetic; it pairs with stances and traits that reward tempo, patience, and a knack for reading an opponent's rhythm. Off the map, it becomes a prize in travel-worn markets, a sign that you have earned your keep in the road-weary world where horse and helmet meet rumor and rain. On the market, Saddlebag Exchange is the rumor-mill and the caravan's ledger all in one, a place where prices drift with rumors of hunts and hoarded loot. A pristine Cavalier's Glyphic Trispear will fetch a comfortable sum, traders telling me in hushed tones that it sits in the three to five gold range, depending on the patina and the glow of the glyphs. Worn or scuffed examples drift lower, while newer generations—fresh with coins from a recent expedition—might fetch more. I’ve watched a seller swap a polished sample for a silk scarf and a handful of emerald beads, and a buyer walk away with a package that weighed more than its price suggested, the deal sealed with a promise to refrain from selling the memory with the weapon. Whether you carry it into a skirmish or keep it in a quiet drawer of memory, the Cavalier's Glyphic Trispear remains more than steel and wood. It is a narrative braced in three points, a heartbeat in a straightened arm, a reminder that every edge remembers the rider who once rode toward the dawn. Its legend grows each time the line goes taut and the three tips sing.