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WYRMGUARD GLOVES

Legendary / Warlock / Gauntlets

What you asked for or your money back!

Special Perks

Ascendant Protector

Ascendant Protector

Grants 3% additional Spirit of Riven vendor reputation from all sources. For each piece of armor equipped with this perk, this bonus increases to a maximum of 12% (4 pieces).

Stats

Defense 0
Credits

Curated Roll

Not all curated rolls actually drop in-game. Learn more

Lore

Wyrmguard Gloves

What you asked for or your money back!

Patrolling with pickup fireteams isn't the greatest work, but, as Shaw likes to say, you can't let life get you down when you've got so much of it.

He picks up a mission to clear out Vex on Io. Down in caves so deep they don't even notice the Pyramid ships overhead. They barely escape in time to watch Io get swallowed by nothingness. Just gone.

All right, lesson learned. No more caves.

The next gig's on Europa, and Shaw's fireteam bails on him. They don't even try to break him out of the crystal when he gets got by Fallen playing with Stasis. It takes the whole flight home to feel warm again.

All right, lesson learned. Time to settle down. Go steady with a real team. People he can trust.

Shaw feels better as soon as he drafts the message. And while he waits for replies, the City's waiting for him, full of Light and life and everything else you can think of. Antique House of Wolves cloaks, guaranteed genuine. Vex-metal woks. Fresh baklava. And his pockets are finally full of Glimmer.

As he walks, a vendor calls out, "Bones! Let's wear some bones!"

A lizard skull stares out at Shaw from the shoulder of a gauntlet-and-pauldron set. Spikes along one forearm: real stylish. And on sale. Might be a tight fit for Shaw's guns, though.

The vendor doesn't even blink as Shaw tests his mobility right there in the stall.

Shaw thinks to himself: it's no way to live, constantly hunting down gigs. Falling into swamps or methane snowdrifts without a friend to pull him out. Always burning his pay on gear to keep up with the arms race. It'd be nice to have a steady gig. A real team. Someplace he won't get his atoms scattered weekly by the latest alien in the system with a chip on their shoulder.

He swings his arm.

Pauldron feels good. Not too tight at all. Perfect, really. Funny he ever thought otherwise.

Shaw heads back to the Tower with a spring in his step and a skull on his arm. His Ghost routes a message his way from the Vanguard network:

[CASTER-3] I saw your post looking for a steady fireteam. I think I had a dream about you? We should meet.

Yeah. Shaw's got a good feeling about this one.

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