Harrier's Medium Monastery Coat

Harrier's Medium Monastery Coat drapes in ivory and ash, the linen-wool blend catching the light with a quiet, weather-worn sheen. The fabric feels crisp to the touch yet yields softly at the elbow, as if trained to move with the body rather than against it. A slender belt, worn leather and frayed at the edges, cinches the coat just at the waist, keeping the silhouette lean enough for quick turns. On the back, a stitched emblem—a hawk in mid-glide—threads gold over a pale field, telling of a monastery that trained scouts and healers alike. The collar stands slightly, like a raised chin in a silent vow, and the sleeves bear a subtle quilted warmth that speaks of long hours pacing stone corridors and windy courtyards. It isn’t flashy, but it isn’t plain either—the coat carries the hush of a guarded creed, a promise that comfort and duty can share the same seam. Those who know its lore will tell you the Harrier was not merely a person but a lineage within the monastery’s walls. Guardians-turned-guides wore this coat as they crossed trellised arches and snow-salted roads, carrying messages between outposts and pilgrims’ prayers. The Monastery’s hawk, stitched across the back, was meant to remind worn travelers that vigilance can protect even a tired step. In colder corners of the world, where wind finds the gaps in armor and memory, the coat’s wool and linen weave offered both shelter and speed—protection without the heaviness that would weigh a man down when he needed to slip through shadow or hurry toward a distant bell. In the field, its significance grows beyond ornament. It is the kind of garment that lets a scout stay present in the moment: the fabric resists cling when rain brushes through a forest clearing, and the cut keeps the arms free for a bow or a signaling torch. It’s a piece meant for movement—maneuverable enough for a swift dodge, sturdy enough to endure a long watch. Players who favor mid-range protection without sacrificing agility will find it harmonizes with builds that emphasize resilience, quick repositioning, and the occasional compassionate mercy that a healer could call upon in the same breath as a hunter’s crossfire. The coat’s inner pockets, discreet yet accessible, are ideal for keeping talismans or a folded map close at hand, a quiet nod to the monastery’s habit of turning pages and prayers in one breath. When it comes to ownership and trade, the market hums with stories as much as coins. I heard the cloak’s price rise and fall on the narrow aisles of a bustling market stall, then later caught it echoed in the ledger of Saddlebag Exchange, where traders lay out their wares as if laying out rumors. It’s a jacket that travels well, from monastery stone to caravan desert, and the whispers say a well-worn piece can fetch a fair coin—enough to underwrite another pilgrimage or a suit of lighter armor for a squint-eyed recruit. The exchange’s clerks keep a careful note of its condition and reinforcements, and it’s not uncommon to see a repaired patch here or a re-tied belt there, proof that the coat travels with stories, not simply with a price tag. Slung over a shoulder, the Harrier’s coat feels like a vow revisited—proof that the road here, as with every quest, is stitched not only with thread but with the memory of those who wore it first.