Assassin's Hard Wood Longbow

Assassin's Hard Wood Longbow glints under the lamplight, its limbs carved from a stubborn, ash-hued hardwood that looks almost armored when the grain catches the glow. The bow’s body wears a satin finish, the wood’s natural lines curled like a whisper of smoke, and the grip is wrapped in tanned leather that softens with every encounter, the stitches worn smooth from long nights of drawing and releasing. A narrow silver inlay traces a crescent along the riser, catching the eye in a way that feels more like memory than ornament. The name itself seems to carry a weight, as if the bow remembers every shadow it’s drawn from and every echo it has sent back across quiet streets. Lore has it that this weapon was forged by a circle of shadow-markers—survivors who learned to move within crowds and still strike with certainty. They believed the hardest wood remembers how to hide, how to wait, how to deliver a message without noise. The Assassin’s Hard Wood Longbow isn’t just a tool of precision; it’s a storyteller of dusk, a silent partner in the work of gathering information, approaching danger, and letting danger pass by unseen. In the right hands, the bow feels less like a thing you wield and more like a current you ride, slicing through the air with the discipline of a trained hunter and the patience of someone who has learned to listen to the wind. In gameplay, the bow carries its own small revolution. Its draw feels taut and immediate, rewarding careful aim and the right moments to release. Its range encourages you to reassess every route through a map—where to perch, when to blink into cover, and which patrol to let pass while you wait for the perfect crosswind. The Assassin’s Hard Wood Longbow suits setups that hinge on positioning, stealth, and a measured pace rather than brute power. When used well, it lets you thin a crowd from a distance, watching guards drift apart as if the night itself is taking care of the details. It’s the kind of weapon that fits a narrative, turning a routine patrol into a chapter about quiet confidence and precise choice. And because it’s so much more than just hardware, it often becomes the star of a tale about a hunter who moves through shadowed streets and back alleys with a single, assured breath. Market days make the bow’s legend feel almost tangible. If you wander into the bustling stalls of Saddlebag Exchange, you’ll hear tell of the Assassin’s Hard Wood Longbow being traded with careful discretion, as if it carries a rumor inside it. The going price sits in the realm of currency that adventurers accumulate through patience—around a gold or a little more, depending on the day’s mood and the bow’s provenance. Traders haggle with stories as their currency, speaking about the feel of the grip, the draw’s balance, and the certainty of a clean hit when the wind remembers to listen. It’s the kind of purchase that makes a buyer feel a little taller, a little more certain, a little more ready to walk the night with purpose. When you finally nock and release, the Assassin's Hard Wood Longbow becomes less about a clever piece of gear and more about a quiet, unfolding story—one where the hunter’s footsteps remain unseen and the world tilts just a fraction toward the shadowed edge of dawn.