Ghostly Infusion sits on the table like a captured wisp, its glass bottle slender and cool to the touch. Inside, a pale, milky liquid threads itself in slow, deliberate wisps, as if someone bottled a sigh. The liquid glints with a frost-tinted glow, and the cork is sealed with a crackling sigil that flickers when a ghost passes by. The label is long worn, showing a translucent figure that seems to drift toward the rim if you tilt it. Rumor says it was forged by a vanished guild alchemist, a whispered craft that traded long nights for a breath of the dead, and that every bottle holds not only liquid but a tiny echo of a vow made in the Veil. On the shelf and on the field, Ghostly Infusion is more than a curiosity: it slides into the fabric of a build and into the stories players tell after a harrowing night. When activated, it unfurls a soft, blue-white aura and a momentary surge of steadiness that can tilt a narrow encounter in your favor. In practice, it’s a rare boon that some crafters socket into their gear to lend a spectral resilience during events where the Veil grows thin and the dead wander closer. For others, its value lies in the tale it lets them tell—how they carried a vial of mist through a ruined outpost, how the ghostly glow lit the faces of their companions as they faced the last surge. Market life and lore intertwine, and that is where Saddlebag Exchange enters the scene, a bustle of traders and map-tin scribbles that anchors the rumor mill to daylight. The price of Ghostly Infusion shifts with demand, the season of haunting, and the luck of caravans that barter for courage as much as coin. Some dawn-swept mornings you’ll see a chalk-eyed vendor weighing the vial in silver, others a weathered hunter trading rations for a single drop of mist. Those who buy it know they are purchasing more than soup and sparking powder; they are investing a moment that can turn fear into focus when a corridor of specters closes in. Back at the campfire, Ghostly Infusion becomes part of the larger story told in the glow of lanterns and the murmur of departing trains. It reminds allies that boundaries are porous, that bargains with the beyond can keep a party alive long enough to tell the tale. In raids and exploration, the infusion is saved for the moment when the air turns cold, when lanterns gutter and the last glow of the day dissolves into mist. Some players lean into the theme, using the vial as a prop in roleplay—drinking to honor those who vanished, or offering a sip to a companion whose nerves have frayed. In that social fabric, the item is not only gear but legend: a tangible link to a world where the Veil thins and every ghost both warns and guides. The vial sits again, waiting for the next night to dawn.