Berserker's Feathered Vestments lie across the display, a riot of plumage stitched to burnished leather, their shoulders crowned with quills that catch the light like sparks in a forge. The fabric beneath is a deep, oil-dark weave, soft as a whispered oath, with edges braided in copper thread that glints when the sun slides over the market stalls. Feathers spill along the chest like a living crest—amber and raven, arranged in a deliberate sweep that suggests both a hunter’s speed and a ritual of ferocity. The leather itself bears the memory of storms: faint creases where rain once ran, a texture that feels warm to the touch as if the wearer’s own breath has taught it patience. lore claims the vestments were woven by a cadre of berserkers who learned to ride the wind as easily as they rode into battle, feathers salvaged from a long-forgotten alliance with storm-borne birds. When you hold them up to the light, you can almost hear distant thunder and feel a rush of wind that never quite belongs to this world. In the field, the vestments don’t just clothe a body; they confer a story. A frontline glint, a silhouette that announces a charge before the first strike lands. Wearers speak of a certain edge to their senses—the way the plumage seems to lift with each swing, guiding the eye toward the opening of an opponent’s window of escape, or toward a burst of crit-driven momentum that turns a skirmish into a turning point. The feather motif isn’t merely cosmetic: it’s a reminder of ascent and peril, of how speed and danger can ride side by side. For a player, the Berserker's Feathered Vestments are a microcosm of control and chaos—the aesthetic of a storm condensed into a single, wearable arc. They pair well with a temperament that loves to push the limit, to trade calm for a moment of raw, roaring momentum. In roleplay terms, they lend themselves to riotous characters who chase legends and leave behind a feather-streaked wake of tales. Market chatter makes the story tangible. A dealer in the patchwork lanes of the city whispers that this set commands a premium—not just for its appearance, but for the volatility of its materials and the way it compels onlookers to recalibrate their sense of where a fight begins. I wandered along Saddlebag Exchange, the rows of stalls rattling with coin and rumor, watching as other characters haggled for the same glow. The price swings like a pendulum: sometimes it rests at a comfortable, almost forgivable sum; other times it spikes when a doctor of fashion or a powered build covets the feathered crest. The exchange isn’t merely a shop—it's a living ledger of appetite, a place where a single piece can become a legend as easily as it becomes a favorite armor slot. If you time it right and read the crowd carefully, you can walk away with more than a chest piece—you walk away with a verse in the ongoing ballad of Berserker’s Feathered Vestments, a story you’ll carry into every heated moment, feathered crest and all.