Strong Worn Scale Coat of the Traveler spreads across the bench, a coat that seems to have learned the road by heart. Its scales, hammered from decades of use, lie in weathered rows like a fish’s armor turned to cloth, each plate catching a patch of sun and dulling it with a patina of rain. The fabric beneath is a seamed tapestry of tawny hide and faded thread, the edges frayed where a hundred camps have gnawed at the chill of night. A hood, once generous, now clings tight to the shoulders, and a brass clasp, nicked by travel, hints at a pocket inside that may hold a letter, a map, a memory. The scent is a blend of smoke, pine resin, and rain-salted skin, a reminder that the wearer has slept under open skies more often than beneath a roof. The coat’s lore is stitched into every seam: a caravan master’s prize, a mentor’s gift to a fledgling scout, the sort of relic that makes even the weather seem to respect the wearer’s resolve. Old storytellers insist the coat’s scales were granted by a shore-dwelling drake to a courier who crossed storm seas to reach a sealed city. In the telling, the traveler pounded the leather, pressed threads into the scale’s edges, and stitched a map of known routes into the lining. The map, though faded, still whispers of windward roads and safe harbors, as if the coat keeps memories alive enough to guide its owner through a fog of choices. In practice, the Strong Worn Scale Coat of the Traveler is valued for resilience and for the sense of companionship it brings on long journeys. It moves with the wearer, brushing against the elbows with a soft rasp, defending against the bite of rain and the jostle of market streets. It’s a garment that invites the slow, deliberate pace of a caravan: scan the horizon, adjust your pack, listen for distant hoofbeats, and press on. In the markets, its appeal hinges on more than the story. It signals a traveler’s taste for endurance and a life lived on the road. Here and there, tinkerers and merchants swap anecdotes for price, and the Saddlebag Exchange becomes the place where old maps and new breath meet. A worn coat like this might fetch a handful of gold, perhaps two or three, depending on repairs and the buyer’s willingness to believe in the road. A well-kept piece can be pressed into service by a scout, a guide, or a courier who needs protection without surrendering mobility. As the day wears on and the trading lanes hum, the Strong Worn Scale Coat of the Traveler holds its own—both a shield against the squall and a beacon for the stories yet to be earned on the road. Some keep the coat for decades, others pass it along with a letter pinning gratitude to a past guide; either way, it remains a testament that journeys shape us as surely as they wear us down.