Glint's Scale

Glint's Scale lies cool in the palm, a teardrop of coppery glass suspended in a whisper-thin film of frost. Its surface is a mosaic of micro-facets that catch the light and spin it into honeyed sparks, as if a drop of sun had been pressed into the rock and cooled there. When you tilt it just so, the amber sheen deepens to a molten core, and you can swear a shadow of the dragon Glint stares back from within, as if the scale remembers the sky she once carved in daylight. The edges are impossibly smooth, yet a faint grain grains the touch, like a fossil carved by patient tides. Along the rind a rune runs in thin, silvery script—an ancient mark that flickers faintly when heated by flame or ember magic, a heartbeat of the elder dawn suspended in metal. Holding it, you feel more than weight. You feel lineage. Lore has it that Glint, a sun-dragon whose legend warmed Kryta’s days, shed this scale in a moment of turning, when courage and mercy briefly outweighed rage. Some caravans claim the scale drifted through a storm-washed sky and landed where a smith could hear the ocean in the clink of a hammer. Others tell of a courier who kept it hidden in a breastplate until the world moved on and the dragon’s memory found a new home among collectors, crafters, and dreamers. Whether you trust the tale or simply trust the glow, the scale carries a story you can touch, a rumor you can hold up to the light and watch unfold. In gameplay terms, Glint's Scale has always felt like more than a pretty relic. It’s a rare thread in the tapestry of crafting and lore, a component that signals you’re playing with a history rather than a mere inventory. Players seek it out because it’s tied to sun-born magic, a resonance that can flavor exotic gear and decorative sigils with a glow reminiscent of dawn after a watchful night. It’s also a symbol—of perseverance, of the long memory of the world—that tempts you to invest it in items that feel lighter and brighter, as if the scale’s warmth could transfer, if only for a moment, to whatever you wear or wield. Markets are where the real life of Glint's Scale breathes. The stallholders whisper about supply, demand, and the kind of luck that carries a single shard into the hands of a collector. Saddlebag Exchange is the name you hear whispered most when people talk price; it’s where the going rate gets measured, a barometer for who’s chasing what and why. On a clear morning, a single Glint's Scale might drift between five and eight gold, depending on who’s willing to pay for sunlit lore or the thrill of a rare find. A bundle of scales can shift the balance of a vendor’s table, and the right buyer can turn a quiet dawn into a small legend of their own. So the scale remains, more than metal and memory, a link between worlds—the one where a dragon’s sunlit armor meets the hand of a wanderer, and in that meeting, a little more light is carried forward into the day.