"The properties of dragon-fire have not been tested against this model, but I assure you that does not mean is inefficient protection!" The salesman clapped a hand on the armor's chestplate, a dull ringing echoing within the empty suit.
"I'm sure it works just fine against goblins and such, but I need something that'll protect me from dragon-fire in particular." I repeated for what had to be the seventh time. Everywhere I went, nobody had any armor that worked against dragoon-fire. It wasn't like dragons were uncommon, there should have been something on the market.
Yet not a single gauntlet was available that would fit my needs.
As the salesman led me over to another suit of armor and started waxing poetic abiut how it could protect me from being chomped by a dire wolf, I wondered if there was some sort of conspiracy. Did dragons pay off the creators of armor and weaponry to make certain nobody would be properly equipped to slay them and steal their hoard?
Or did the knights make it so only they could access such powerful tools?
As I was in no position to investigate either conspiracy, I settled for leaving the armory empty handed.
If I'd known how hard it would be to get tools I needed, I wouldn't have taken the job. But as I had taken it, I had no choice but to show up.
So at precisely ten to five, I pulled the tremendous chain outside a cave about two hours out of town. It took my entire weight to do so, but I heard the cacophony of noise that rang out from it.
"Come in, Gretta!" A voices roared from deep within the cave. I went in, admiring the metalwork covering the walls of the entry-cave. I followed the line of glowing orbs set high on the walls to the back of the cave, following a twisting tunnel deeper in.
When I came face to scales with a bright blue dragin in a larger cave, I offered a smile. "Hey, Mr. Tinscorch, how's the family?"
Twisting his neck around to lookbat me with one large green eye, the dragon bared his fangs in a grin. "Just peachy. Cindy is getting little Ashspitter down for the night. He should sleep the entire time, but if he does wake, just give him some gold to chew on. He's got a new fang coming in."
"That's wonderful." I smiled back, while inside I groaned at my luck. A teething hatchling? As though accidental sparks weren't enough to worry about.
"Oh, is Gretta here?" Mrs. Cindy (actually Cindara–Flamonte of the infamous noble Flamonte line from the Southern Shores) appeared from another tunnel. "Wonderful. I had something I wanted to loan you."
As the gray dragon twisted her head around to get something from her side pouch, Mr. Tinscorch spoke. "I told her what she can expect for the night. We really shouldn't be gone for more than a few hours. We just need a night out."
"I completely understand. Children can be a handful, no matter the species." I needed this job, and dragons were known to pay well.
"Found it." Mrs. Cindy said, pulling out a black pendant. When she dropped it into my hands, I was surprised by the weight. But at her motion, I put it around my neck. One didn't ask a dragon if something was cursed before you wore it, that was simply rude.
"There. Now you won't have to worry about any flare-ups." Mrs. Cindy looked pleased. I touched the pendant.
"This will protect me from dragon-fire?"
"Not from an adult's fire, but it works just fine with against a hatchling's hiccups."
I smiled gratefully at her, then walked woth the two to the entrance of their cave. Maybe this babysitting gig won't be so bad after all.
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