Queen Bee Infusion

Queen Bee Infusion sits in my palm like a drop of molten sunshine, a small vial of amber glass capped with a wax seal etched with a queen's sigil. The liquid inside shifts with a solar glow, honey-tinged and viscous, catching light in hexagonal facets along the glass. When I tilt it, the substance spins with slow intelligence, as if it remembers the buzz of a hive. The seal bears a tiny illustration of a stern queen ruling over a circle of hexagons, and there’s a faint scent of wax near the opening. The texture is silky on the skin, a gentle warmth that travels from finger to heart, leaving behind a memory of summer in the throat. It is said the infusion was distilled from the essence of a long-lost royal hive, hidden in a grove where the trees hum with pollen and the wind carries a soft, droning anthem. Those whispers insist that this isn’t mere alchemy but a relic of a world where bees spoke in symbols and kingdoms rose and fell on a honeyed breath. Under moonlight the amber deepens to something like a captured sunset, and the glow steadies with your rhythm, as if the hive itself keeps time. To hold it and keep it close is to carry a history of defiance and care, because the Queen Bee Infusion is not just a garnish for style; it is a tool that folds into the land’s larger narrative. In combat, it lands as a compact boon: a surge of vitality, a momentary shield against the worst onslaughts, and a subtle sharpening of the senses that lets you read the tempo of a fight a few breaths earlier. Some wield it to weather storms of conditions that would mangle their resolve, others to squeeze a few extra seconds of healing from a perilous path. Taken into a smithy’s workshop or a field camp, it becomes the hinge of little epics: a veteran herbalist trading a vial for a tale of bees, a scout using the infusion’s glow to guide a weary caravan through fog and fume, a student learning to weave it into a ritual that honors the hive’s memory. This is not a single-use trinket but a thread in a broader tapestry—one that ties the courage of a realm to the lineage of its beekeepers, the patience of its alchemists. On a bright morning, I found myself shoulder-deep in the bustle at Saddlebag Exchange, where vendors call out prices and haggle with the rain-slicked coins of travelers. A seasoned trader, polishing a jar with a linen cloth, told me the Queen Bee Infusion moves at a price that rewards both the curious collector and the rider. We spoke of supply lines and price dips, and I watched as the vendor’s fingers traced hexes on the label, translating the lore into currency. It wasn’t merely commerce; it was a rite of passage, a handshake between memory and market, between the memory of a hive and the hands of those who would carry its message forward. I even saw a navigator trade a map for a vial, the exchange textured with stories as much as silver. By the time I tucked the vial away, the world seemed to hum a little louder, as if the infusion had whispered: remember your colony, remember your craft, and always be ready to share honey with your neighbors, even when the road is rough. Some nights it sits in a pocket like a pulse of industry and hope.

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Average Price

1,867.8373

Total Value

3,744.06

Total Sold

2

Sell Price Avg

0.00

Sell Orders Sold

0

Sell Value

0.00

Buy Price Avg

1,867.8373

Buy Orders Sold

2

Buy Value

3,744.06

No Sell Orders Available

Queen Bee Infusion : Buy Orders

Price
Quantity
1,851.00041
1,851.00031
1,800.001
700.001
31.0021
31.00191
31.00111
31.00021
30.00011
25.0010
2.00991
2.00221
2.00011
1.29991
1.13011
1.01072
1.01051
1.01041
1.00021
1.004
0.69692
0.0421
0.01011
0.00771
0.00691
0.00073
0.00052
0.0002272