Firae's Cloak

A phoenix-feather robe - not only valuable for the sheer difficulty of getting phoenix feathers (even one is seen as a valuable ornament only brought out for extremely special occasions, with less rare but still valuable firebird feathers often being used as substitute even among nobles) and the tedium of putting any sort of feather robe together, but for the story behind it - the only record of a friendship ever being formed with a phoenix. A dragonborn (half mortal, half dragon, not like the dragon-kin tribes who see dragons as their ancestors, but a true hybrid, rare enough as it is) woman, name Firae Aevan, befriended a phoenix after years and years of building trust with it, enough that she was able to call it companion.
Over the years, she collected each molted feather, and slowly began sewing them into a cloak made of woven gold. As accents, she collected her own scales. The cloak took centuries to complete, one painstaking shed feather at a time. While many before had tried to capture and pluck or kill a phoenix, never would the feathers remain, for a phoenix has the ability to burn their feathers and will do so if they are taken by force. One must collect shed feathers in order to keep them, and even keeping a phoenix as a pet by force will not work, for they will wither and die under harsh conditions, reborn at their home far from where they were captured. It was only Firae's close connection to the bird that kept it returning and staying with her, providing her enough feathers that she could even think of making such a cloak.
Today, the cloak is carefully stored within the palace of her home country, and a replica is on display in the largest Galtian museum, the Giorlogi Museum of the Arts and Sciences .

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Firae Aeven was a woman of great heritage, a dragonborn, the child of a fire dragon and an elf, with pointed ears, a refined, elegant stance, and the beauty of the flame within her. Red scales touched her skin, delicately accenting her form, and the strength of the dragon within her toning her muscles. Her deep brown hair flowed in waves down her back, and her poise held her with grace and dignity.
She was kind, gentle, but fierce with the blood of the dragons, and she would not stand for injustices. When a young phoenix fell to her doorstep, abused by those who sought its plumes, she took it in and cared for it, nursing it gently and treating it with love and kindness. They grew close, as she spent years feeding it and befriending it, and it returned to her side daily, often even spending the night by her bedside, watching over her. They grew as friends and loved each other well.
Each shed plume, glittering with light, was carefully collected by Firae, and with time she wove it into a cloak of spun gold, the two materials twining into the most glorious cape one might ever see or wear. She accented it with her own scales, lining it with soft fur, and wove her magic into it to protect and guard the wearer with care.