15 Slot Craftsman's Bag

The 15 Slot Craftsman's Bag rests on the table, a block of weathered veg-tan leather etched with years of use. Its surface bears a thousand micro-scratches that catch the light like tiny constellations, and a seam of brass beads traces the flap’s edge where a guild crest sits, worn smooth by handling, beneath a patina of wax. The leather is firm yet yielding, smelling faintly of oil, cedar, and resin, with a cloth interior that has darkened to the color of old ink. Six sturdy brass buckles cinch the strap, and a wide shoulder sling, adjustable and scuffed where travel has etched its wear, promises days of roaming the back roads and river towns. The bag is lined with blue-gray canvas that muffles sound and dust, a practical contrast to the chestnut exterior, as if a craftsman's stash deserved a quiet, reliable home. This is not merely a container in the vaults of a city; it is a portable workshop of lore. Legend tells of Master Nyren in Divinity's Reach, where the bag was born from careful stitching and a pact between leather and loom. The crest is said to hold the memory of a single hammer strike—the moment rough ore met a craftsman's will and became fit to carry a neighborhood's pride. In the tales passed from apprentice to journeyman, the bag carries more than metal and thread; it carries promises: the promise that a craftsman can walk a road and still lay hands on the exact rivet, the dye, the splinter of wood, without a second trip to a shop. In the game, the 15 Slot Craftsman's Bag is a lifeline for any artisan or scavenger who roams a map with pockets full of ore, leather, and dyes. Its fifteen slots expand the player’s immediate capacity, turning a day's gathering into a smoother rhythm rather than a frantic sprint back to the nearest vendor. It allows you to stash toolkits, scribes, and spare fittings so you can plan a route that weaves from market to market without losing your stride. I once watched a caravan replace worn satchels with a row of these bags, each one gleaming more than the last, because when you’re moving through a market square and a storm rolls in, you want your hands free for what truly matters—turning raw materials into finished goods. The Saddlebag Exchange, a sun-bleached stall that smells faintly of wax and peppermint, has become a popular waypoint for price talks and trade. On a bright morning, I traded a small bundle of copper ingots for a pristine one, the vendor calculating value with the careful eye of a jeweler and noting wear. They price these bags in the mid-silver range—roughly a dozen to a bit more than a dozen and a half silver depending on wear and provenance—an affordable investment for a traveling craftsman and a reminder that in this world, a single bag can thread together a network of pockets, people, and possibilities. And so the bag travels on, a quiet testament to craft in motion.