The town blacksmith was baffled as to why I wanted a metal barrel, especially one that was watertight. It took him weeks to get it done, and he went on to tell me about how he had to fold the edges of sheets together and then hammer them into a single piece as he bent the barrel around. I blacked out halfway through the explanation, but nodded and gave the appropriate ooh and ahh to recognize the greatness of his accomplishment. Compared to that, casting pipes of molten copper had been simple, but he had come through for me.
I used my cart to get everything back to my place. I started with the pipes, sealing them together with a resin as welding and screwed fittings wouldn’t be invented until I did it myself. Technological progress in the Fairy Tale Realms was nonexistent. With the pipes in place, I then used a wooden crane and a complicated pully system to lift the metal barrel up on top of my outdoor pizza oven.
It took many trips to the nearby stream and up a shaky ladder to fill the thing, and then I put the lid on, lightly tapping it into place with a mallet. It wasn’t on so tight that I couldn’t get it off, but it wouldn’t blow away, either.
And then I waited.
I used my hand to roughly take the temperature every couple of hours.
It was slow, but then I didn’t want the dragon scale to boil the water, so I needed the layer of stone between it and the barrel.
By the next morning, I gave it a try.
I turned on the spigot inside my house. Glorious hot water poured out and onto me. I had set the spigot up high, just a straight shot over from the outside, but it worked out because I had my first hot shower in months. The first one ever in the Realms, too.
I’m going to need a shower curtain.