Recipe: Ruka's Epaulets

Recipe: Ruka's Epaulets is drawn in copperplate on parchment the color of old brass, the ink a burnished copper that glints under lamplight. The parchment's edges curl like dried seaweed, and the surface bears the impression of hammered metal and stitched seams, as if the recipe itself wore a workshop's weight. At the center, the illustration shows epaulets shaped like segmented wings, each plate etched with fine grooves that catch the light and invite a closer touch. The lettering is compact, yet the flourish on the margins hints at a craftsman's pride, something passed down through hands that measured weight and balance as carefully as breath and tide. Lore threads sneak through the corners: Ruka, rumored to be a master of armory who sailed with raiders and traders, left behind not just steel and strain but clues to shapes that endure, even when ships break on distant reefs. To the players who wander the markets, learning this recipe unlocks the ability to forge a pair of epaulets that anchor a character's appearance and fortify their resolve. The recipe calls for leather and forged metal, a careful dance of heat and patience at the forges where ash speaks back to the smith. When crafted, Ruka's Epaulets offer a distinctive silhouette and tangible benefits in combat and endurance, a symbol of seamanship turned armor. They fit into a larger set, a lineage of protective wear that marks a captain of the coast or a courier who trusts the road as much as the compass. The epaulets carry a weathered shine—a reminder that every voyage leaves its mark, every seam a story—and in the right hands they become the quiet heart of a loadout rather than a mere accessory. Prices drift through the ember-lit stalls of the Saddlebag Exchange, where traders haggle with stories as much as coin and the recipe's value shifts with rumor and season. A collector might pay more for a pristine parchment, while a crafter seeking a reliable blueprint might strike a bargain, swapping handcrafted patches or rare ores to seal the deal. The exchange hums with the rhythm of a harbor at dawn: mention Ruka, and the price climbs; speak of a damaged copy, and a discount appears in the margins. In this world, the recipe is more than a recipe; it is a passport, a ticket to a line of craftsmanship that threads through guild halls, shipyards, and battlefield lanes alike. It binds a practical craft to a legend, a single page that keeps carrying forward the memory of a seamster whose work could outlive storms. Those who wear Ruka's Epaulets, in turn, carry a memory of that voyage into every skirmish and market morning, a reminder that fashion and function voyage together as surely as ships and stories do. In the hands of a storyteller or a veteran courier, the recipe becomes more than a craft order; it becomes a voice that speaks of reefs and resolve, of storms survived and new routes imagined.