Cleric's Cabalist Coat of the Pack

Cleric's Cabalist Coat of the Pack is cut from a dense, midnight wool that swallows light, its surface quilted with copper sigils that ripple as you move. The shoulders are reinforced with leather epaulets, and the collar stands up like a sentinel, edging into a hood lined with waxed linen. Along the hem, tiny runes are stitched in a spiraling caravan map, guiding the eye toward pockets hidden within the seam. Three concealed pouches lie within: a breast pocket for vials, a wide interior pouch for bandages, and a narrow sleeve pocket for charms that never leave your palm. The coat feels heavy, but shifts with healer's ease, breathing with the wearer's intentions. A cloak that could belong to a healer and a road-worn cabalist, the item carries a whisper of lore: it was said to be sewn by clerics who rode with caravan tribes through arid passes, binding their supplies to the coat as if the pack itself could bewitch drought into mercy. Those sigils are more than ornament; they speak to the Cabalist's creed — discipline, ritual, and keeping a caravan's heart intact. In ancient tales, a healer-steward would drape this coat across a man who had run out of water and hope, and the runes would glow faintly to guide the medic to a hidden well or a crate of herbs. In gameplay, the coat becomes a storyteller in its own right. It does not simply shield the body; it amplifies a supporter's presence. The copper thread hums when you channel healing magic, guiding your aura outward and stitching wounds not just with salve but with intention. Its pockets are rumored to hold spare salves, inky charcoal for cleansing, and amulets that bend the moment to your favor. You move with grace through skirmish and siege, the Pack's coat reminding allies that provision and protection can be as decisive as a strike. When you trek into a supply camp or besieged caravan, the cloth absorbs dust and veils you with quiet authority. On the market floor of Saddlebag Exchange, whispers thread through the chatter about its price and provenance. Some sellers offer it as a pristine relic from a caravan’s last expedition; others as a repaired veteran, its sigils dulled but still potent. The going rate drifts with the tides of demand, a handful of gold here, a broader sum there, depending on enchantments and the coat’s condition. A broker might tell you the coat’s value shifts with festival calendars and patch notes, the way a map redraws when you adjust course. Yet for those who carry it, the Cleric's Cabalist Coat of the Pack becomes more than fabric and thread — a living record of journeys, of safekeeping, and of a world where supplies, stories, and souls travel together. In the end, it is not merely fabric; it is a pledge to travelers, a beacon binding caravan, healer, and protector into legend.