This article on enchant layering was starting to drag. Did the author have a word count they were supposed to hit? Get to the point already.
I turned the page.
What the…
I checked the front cover again. Yep. Arcane Monthly.
Who decided this was the right audience for a hunter’s pack? Do mages suddenly need somewhere to store their egos and twelve redundant spell components?
I scanned the ad.
What? I’m a hunter. I’m literally the target market.
Waterproof journal pocket. Trap-specific compartments. Weight redistribution. Huh, I wonder how they pulled that off.
Separate, waterproof med kit.
My bandages and salves are scattered all over my pack. Thank the gods I haven’t needed them.
Coagulant salve… I hadn’t even thought of that.
No brass buckles either. Everything darkened or leather-wrapped. Nothing shiny. Finally someone gets it. This was clearly not designed by a mage.
The whole pack sits close to the body. Low profile. No dangling straps. No loose pieces to bounce or clatter. Nothing to snag when you’re crawling through brush or squeezing between rocks.
Whoever designed it had actually been in the field.
My current pack is fine. It carries my gear. The leather is soft and perfectly broken in, the kind of soft that only comes from years of use and careful maintenance. It was my dad’s. He gave it to me when I was accepted into the guild, and I love it. His initials are still stamped inside the flap.
But he’s a tinkerer.
The pack was built for that kind of work. Tool slots sized for mana clamps, tweezers, an etching hammer. One big central compartment meant for materials. Metal plates. Stone blanks. Things that don’t mind being piled together.
Everything I carry has to go in there. Traps, lures, containment jars. All of it banging together no matter how carefully I pack it. The weight-reducing enchant helps, and I really do appreciate that.
This pack though…
This one was built for hunters.
I folded the page closed and sighed. My pack is fine. For now.
