Berserker's Chainmail Shoulders

Berserker's Chainmail Shoulders catch the light with a brutal gleam, two heavy crescent pauldrons wrapped in hammered steel that bears the fingerprints of a dozen smiths. The outer plates are etched with jagged runic lines, like frost on iron, and a leather trim peels back at the seam to reveal a mesh of interwoven chainmail that feels almost alive to the touch. The crest on the left shoulder is a snarling bear, enamel red as spilled ember, while a band of tar-black leather seals the joints, offering a whisper of flexibility amid the armor's weight. The texture shifts from cold hardness to a surprising warmth where leather and mail meet, a tactile reminder that protection isn't merely about stopping steel but about the wearer moving through light and shadow. Forged in the memory of a long siege, the Shoulders carry a rumor as old as the hammer—that rage can be tempered by craft, that rage can be worn as carefully as a crown. When the bearer strides, the plates settle with a measured clack, not a clang; the shoulders rest as if listening for the next command, enabling swift pivots and shoulder-forward charges. In the lore of the smiths who shaped them, the shoulders were often passed from veteran to apprentice, a badge of endurance rather than mere armor. They are said to hum softly in the heat of battle, a resonance that keeps the wearer grounded even as adrenaline flares. In practical terms, they’re a rare alignment of offense and endurance. The chainmail layer protects the upper arm and neck from slashes that would otherwise chain-reaction through the torso, while the outer plates guard the shoulder from heavy blows that threaten to buckle armor and will alike. For a player leaning into a crasher, crit-heavy build—where timing, not brute weight, carries the day—the Berserker's Shoulders offer a stage where movement is not sacrificed on the altar of protection. Worn with a light chest piece and a stamina-friendly set of ascended gauntlets, they let you pivot, volley, and surge with a hunter's precision, all while keeping you stubbornly intact through the fiercest trades. Prices drift through the market like a rumor at Saddlebag Exchange, where traders recount bargains as if they were old fables. A tired vendor will name a price, and a bolder buyer will push back, trading coins and stories until the value clicks—sometimes higher if a rare skin glints in the afternoon sun, sometimes lower if a fight-test shows a crack in the edge. It’s in these back-and-forths that the Shoulder’s reputation really shines: not just metal, but a decision you carry out into the fray. By dusk, the item sits in a market stall or a quiet chest, and the world keeps turning—with the wearer stepping out into a street thrumming with rumor and the march of fate, two shoulders bearing the weight of countless tales. As markets thin and the night air cools the forge, those who wear them remember that a single piece of chain and steel can tell a story as loud as any banner.