Rampager's Iron Pistol of the Geomancer gleams with a hammered iron sheen, its barrel etched with earthen sigils that shimmer when the air grows still. The grip is wrapped in weathered leather, cracked from sun and mud, with rivets that catch the light like tiny mineral flecks. A band of copper patina runs along the trigger guard, and the butt plate bears the emblem of a coiled lizard above a geometric disk, as if the weapon itself wears a map of old quarry floors. The texture is a paradox: cold to the touch at first, then surprisingly warm where the maker pressed his palm, as if the iron remembered the earth’s heartbeat. The runes along the barrel glow faintly emerald after sundown, a quiet reminder that this pistol is more than steel: it is a conduit for soil and stone. Lore says it was forged high above clay flats, where ore and mud were coaxed into peace, and given to a geomancer who learned, through patient strikes of the hammer and patient listening to the earth, to turn ground into a partner rather than a barrier. It is not simply a weapon; it is a tool for storytelling in the heat of battle. In the right hands, shots do more than wound—they ripple through the ground, nudging earth to create footholds or shallow tremors that unbalance opponents. The Geomancer’s touch lets terrain become a character in the fight, turning a narrow pass into a corridor of advantage and a shattered rock into a shield of rubble. Players who pair this pistol with the right traits learn to weave defense and offense, laying the earth underfoot to slow chasers, then breaking the crust to send a jagged arc of metal into a foe’s flank. It feels like a partnership with the world itself: a compact that promises to shape fights as surely as it shapes the battlefield. On Saddlebag Exchange, a steady trickle of listings is driven by curiosity and collector hunger. The item’s price drifts with supply, season, and the whims of those who covet its mineral aura, sometimes commanding a few pieces of gold for pristine examples, more for ones bearing visible earth sigils or history-trace engravings. It’s the kind of purchase that kis whisper about in camp after dusk: a pistol that carries a story as heavy as the iron it’s built from, and that can turn a skirmish into a tale told around a fire long after the last whistle of the bell. Carrying Rampager’s Iron Pistol of the Geomancer feels like carrying a fragment of the ground itself—patient, stubborn, and ready to remind you that every battle stands on the bedrock of memory. It’s a weapon built for partnership with the land, a relic that asks to be used with care, then handed down as the earth keeps the score. In camps, the pistol becomes a rumor you truly carry forward—an artifact that asks you to weigh force against memory, and choose terrain as your aim.