They found a dragon who made a deal with them. Scrub my scales and you can keep whatever loose scales fall off. The family was shocked at such a boon. Now, four generations later, they had a full service spa for dragons of ALL sizes. Loose scales scrubbed, claws polished and trimmed, wings massaged, oils rubbed in to help with loose skin, the works. Loose scales that fell? Those were kept, polished, and made into jewelry and sold in a gift shop for adventurers that came out this way. -- Anon Guest
The family Clayfield had been potters before their clay quarry turned up a veritable trove of hard quartz. Not the kind anyone would trade for gold, nor in any kind of amount that could be traded by the sackload. So they wound up with an old barrow full of the stuff as they turned baskets of clay into slip just to sift them from their work materials.
Then the Dragon lit in the nearby meadow.
Coral Clayfield, muddy with slip up to her elbows, ventured out to meet them. She was old and had little else to worry about, and thus showed no fear in approaching a creature who could have rained fire down on her. "We don't have gold, our roof is tile and the house is brick. The rocks we have are nowhere near precious, but if you want to take the barrow, we'd like it back empty."
"I had a more interesting request," said the Dragon, who introduced themself as Britescale. Their scales weren't very bright on introduction. They had the trunk of a hardwood tree. "Can you and yours make this a scrubbing brush with your sharp stones? I can smell that they are tough crystal."
It was rare that a Dragon asked for anything nicely, so Coral fetched the household to discuss coming up with a plan. They were potters, not tool-makers.
When a Dragon asked nicely, you did your utmost or suffered their wrath.
Coral took the barrow to the field where the tree trunk was, the rest of the family took whatever tools they thought necessary. It was night by the time they assembled the scale brush and the rig with which to manipulate it. Come the next dawn, they helped Britescale with his shedding. The gleaming pale scales littered the ground like irridescent snow.
"You may keep my shedding," said Britescale. "I understand it is worth a great deal. My kind and I would find benefit from the springs behind your hill. Your clay is not good for your trade for much longer. However, you have excellent stones for shedding assistance."
The scales paid for a lot of new things, a lot of materials. A lot of workers to help create their new venue. A lot of extra things to make a hospice spa for Dragons and Dragonkindred of all sizes.
The kind Dragons kept the other sort away from Clayfield Spa and those who worked it. All for the greater good.
[Photo by Dani Costelo on Unsplash]
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