Snowdrift Short Bow

Snowdrift Short Bow sits in the glow of a lantern, its limbs curved like pale icicles and lacquered in a frost-blue sheen that catches every flicker of light. The grip is wrapped in weathered leather, the seams stitched with silver thread that glints when the bow is drawn, and the riser bears etchings of snowflakes that seem to melt and reform with the room’s breath. The string, taut as a string of ice, hums faintly when you draw it back, as if the weapon remembers the cold wind of a long winter crossing the mountains. Lore? They say it was first tempered in a caravan that pressed north through snowy passes, where hunters swapped stories for arrows and the black ice of the road left permanent marks on every piece of wood that survived the journey. Some say the bow carries a memory of the frost and a promise that a well-timed arrow can tip the scales when a rival pack closes in. In hand, it feels lighter than its appearance would suggest, balanced for quick, precise shots rather than brute force. It favors movement—slip a few paces, let the wind carry your shot, then retreat before the avalanche of heat from a dozen hasty enemies arrives. The Snowdrift Short Bow’s arrows bite true at mid-range, with a sharp snap that seems to echo the crack of a frozen branch when the wind shifts. Its frost-etched glyphs aren’t mere ornament; they’re believed to channel a chill that slows the moment you release, giving the hunter a fraction longer to aim, to judge a cover or a moving target, to let a companion go around a corner. Market days find it traded among layers of other frost-worked gear, the kind of piece that tells a story before you even lift it. It’s the kind of bow a ranger might hand to a young apprentice who’s promised to keep routes clear and watch for wagons that veer too near the cliff edge. And for a pursuer who knows the world’s colder corners, the Snowdrift Short Bow isn’t just a tool; it’s a companion that shares the journey. Pricing sits somewhere between quiet demand and the season’s brisk trade. In the stalls, whispers of silver coins and glistening frost shards drift on the air, and a season’s supply can hinge on a single buyer who believes in the bow’s memory. That’s where the Saddlebag Exchange comes in—a marketplace that moves with the wind and the weight of travelers’ pockets. Traders there speak in terms of take-home value, not just raw price, and they’ll tell you that the right quartermaster can see the bow through its purchaser’s eyes, valuing history as much as hardware. The Snowdrift Short Bow, then, is affordable if you listen to its tale, and coveted if you listen to its promise: to drift you forward, to sharpen your aim, to keep the cold at bay while your focus remains bright as a winter star. Its arc whispers of routes traveled.