Cleric's Steam Speargun of Purity gleams on the worktable, its steel barrel arched like a tempered horn, etched with prayer sigils that glint with a frost-like glow. Copper fittings trace the spine, pistons hide beneath lacquered panels, and a glass reservoir breathes a patient hiss. The grip, wrapped in worn leather, bears scars from trials and calibration. The whole thing smells of oil, ozone, and rain-washed stone. Lifted, it sits in a calm, ready balance, as if the gun itself is listening for a story it will tell again. Legends say it was forged in a cloister where healers and machinists argued over purity—not of metal alone but of purpose. Clerics blessed the steam, engineers tuned the valve to a soft hymn, and rivets kept time with a steady heartbeat. The gift was more than a weapon; a reliquary carrying cleansing through corruption, turning foul essence into harmless vapor and leaving allies unscathed. In the field, it fires a slender harpoon wrapped in cold mist. On impact, a purifying pulse sways the air, neutralizing lingering conditions and cooling the aura of decay around foes, while the hiss steadies companions and renews momentum. Gamers prize it for versatility. In tight skirmishes, the spear becomes a beacon of order—drawing enemies toward a glow of heat and cracking their defenses, while opening chances for healers and damage dealers to work in tandem. The playstyle invites a careful cadence: time the shot to interrupt a retreat, then pivot to a cleanse, letting the breath of purity wash over the team and scatter lingering bane. It’s not raw power, but a narrative-driven tool that fits into the wider drama of canals and ash-dark markets where every battle writes a line in the world’s ongoing story of mercy and consequence. On the market, whispers drift through harbor stalls about price and rarity. Traders barter lore as much as lead, and Saddlebag Exchange figures into the chatter—the place where collectors test supply and demand. A few gold, traded with a steady hand, can turn the cleric’s spear into a trusted companion, or send it back to the shelves for another season of rumor. The price shifts with guild holdings, with raids that thin inventories, and with salvaged frames that echo the old work. In the end, Cleric's Steam Speargun of Purity is more than a weapon. It’s a hinge in a world that refuses to surrender its faith in purification, a relic that travels between workshop and battlefield, and a reminder that every shot is a verse in a larger ballad about healing, justice, and the stubborn light that survives the fog.