Dark Wing Hammer Skin

Dark Wing Hammer Skin glints in the copper glow of the smithy, its hammer head clad in obsidian plates that trace the silhouette of a raven in flight. The surface wears a fine, scale-like texture, cool to the touch and alive under torchlight, as if the metal remembers a night wind. Along the haft, feather-like etchings spiral toward the pommel, and when you tilt the hammer, the edges catch light in a way that makes the weapon feel heavier with history. Lore whispers it was forged where a dragon once descended, its wings folded into steel to keep the memory of a shadowed battle intact, a keepsake for those who walk the line between craft and legend, a message etched in weight and shine. In the hands of a player, the skin becomes more than beauty; it is a passport to a persona. The weapon still carries the same weight and roar, but the Dark Wing Hammer Skin leaves a ghost of dusk in its wake—a faint feathered shimmer that trails the swing, a reminder of nocturnal hunts and hidden courtyards. It is not a stat, but a story, and stories are currency in crowded towns and quiet glades alike. Pacing through a dungeon, switching to this skin can turn a routine fight into a memory: you swing, and the air seems to carry a rumor of wings. It invites conversations, and the mood it sets fits the weapon as neatly as a tailored coat. Where did you find it? Who forged it? Which dragon’s memory do you carry today? The world wears its skins with patient, ritual care. On a dockside stall, I watch Saddlebag Exchange unfurl its wares, the vendor tapping a gloved knuckle against the glass as if counting regrets and victories. The Dark Wing Hammer Skin sits there, listed for a price that sways with demand, sometimes dipping when the market is crowded and spiking when a collector arrives with a dream. Buyers haggle softly, not over function but tone: does this piece belong in a guild hall carved with ash and starfire, or tucked behind the wheel of a caravaneer’s tale? The seller answers with a smile and a story—about a night market where wings were traded for courage, about a smith who listened to storms and tempered metal with moonlight. The exchange is not money changing hands but a relay of lore, and Saddlebag Exchange makes that intimate at once. And so the skin remains—a whisper of wings bound to steel, a fragment of a dragon’s memory traded between hands, a choice that lets a hammer speak in a darker, more deliberate rhythm. Sometimes I see it worn by a blacksmith's apprentice eager to prove herself, the wings a quiet oath that she will temper fear with patience. In the glow of dawn, the hammer's dark wings seem to inhale light and exhale resolve, a reminder that every strike writes a small chapter into the world’s ledger. And so the skin travels on, a companion to night-bound journeys.

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Average Price

54.2432

Total Value

107.35

Total Sold

2

Sell Price Avg

64.9994

Sell Orders Sold

1

Sell Value

65.00

Buy Price Avg

43.487

Buy Orders Sold

1

Buy Value

42.35

Dark Wing Hammer Skin : Sell Orders

Price
Quantity
175.01992
175.01982
100.00091
99.99981
99.99971
99.99961
92.99931
90.99991
79.99931
79.99921
70.001
69.001
68.99991
67.99971
65.98961
65.90941
65.00031
65.00021
65.00011
65.001
64.991

Dark Wing Hammer Skin : Buy Orders

Price
Quantity
42.34562
39.23481
39.23341
39.23321
38.23121
35.0721
35.02571
35.0231
35.01731
29.001
28.52671
28.51631
16.0731
16.07293
16.06231
16.04151
12.03751
12.00191
11.98881
11.12321
10.09033
10.08861
10.02951
8.94781
1.501
0.501
0.026
0.012
0.0005250
0.00022