Giver's Pearl Needler rests in the curve of a weathered hand, its ivory shaft slender as a reed and lacquered to a mirror-pine finish that catches every glint of light like a wave breaking over a bright reef. The needlelike tip is a shard of steel crowned with a skein of pale pearls, each pearl set in a delicate constellation around the base where the grip meets the blade. Runic etchings coil along the weapon’s spine, threads of silver that seem to pulse with a quiet, almost patient expectancy. When you turn it over, you can feel a soft hum, a whisper of sea-salt memory that clings to the lacquer, as if the pearl itself keeps a tally of every gift it has ever witnessed passed along in battle. The Giver’s name isn’t etched so much as inferred, a lore that says the blade remembers every generous act it has ever touched, every wound it has helped mend by the simple act of striking. There’s a market breath to it, too, a story you can follow beyond the weight of duty. It’s not merely a weapon; it’s a keepsake that promises healing carried on a shaft. The vendor’s stall in the open-air bazaar is crowded with the clamor of trades and the scent of resin and sea air, and the Needler sits among simples and charms, gleaming with a patient resolve. In the chatter of prices, you hear the older buyers murmur that this isn’t a bargain so much as a decision—what you give may outlive you in the tales you tell and the lives you touch. Saddlebag Exchange, a well-worn sign swinging from a peg, becomes the hinge of that choice. The stallkeeper weighs the pearl and the steel with care, and after a quiet exchange—the kind of exchange that feels like a shift in the wind—the price lands: around two gold and a handful of silver, with a small token minted by Saddlebag Exchange itself as a reminder that every gift has a gatekeeper. In the world beneath its gleaming surface, the Giver’s Pearl Needler serves more than the usual function of a blade. Its presence in a party is a signal—a prompt that healing isn’t merely a moment’s mercy but a thread that binds the whole skirmish to a larger, steadier hope. Players who wield it find that landing a hit not only sharpens the foe’s resolve but also threads in a glimmering boon for nearby allies. With each successful strike, a soft, pearlescent pulse ripples outward, expanding the aura of generosity and strengthening the group’s morale. The weapon seems attuned to a healer’s patience: it enhances the duration of boons, eases the return of energy for supportive skills, and subtly shifts the tempo of a fight toward preservation rather than sheer destruction. It is a blade that doesn’t demand sacrifice so much as offer it, a reminder that combat can be an act of giving as well as taking. So the pearl glows on, a quiet beacon in the heat of battle, and the Needler remains a respectful companion to those who believe that every wound carried in defense of others can be softened by a gift rightly delivered at the right moment. In its careful balance of steel and pearl, it tells the tale of generosity made tangible—the kind of story you carry into the next skirmish, the next corridor, the next dawn.