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m-s-c-s t1_j68kggl wrote

Cecil's yawn echoed off the walls of his little watch post. Another day nearly done, and then home to his wife's embrace, a hot meal, and a cozy bed. He rubbed his eyes, trying to force them to stay focused on the distant horizon, but the bright light left him seeing zooming spots and there was one of those frustrating threads of distortion that doesn't go away no matter how many times you blink.

He tried gently tilting his head, side to side, to make them settle out of the middle of his vision, but when his head moved, the thread stayed still. He shook his head gently, trying to clear his eyes and his mind. He took a sip from his canteen, looked in the dark for a moment, and then gently scanned the horizon. On about the third try, the church bell rang. As he turned for the door, he heard a deep, rumbling, polite cough.


Cecil peeked back in the door, his hand gently gripping the hilt of his sword. Never hurt to be cautious. Before the window sat a large scaly head, a polite smile dancing across its lips.

"Do you know where I might find Sir Alden Darwin?"

The hand dropped from his sword, Cecil quietly returned to the window. If a dragon wanted you dead, you were. He was not dead, and he hoped to keep it that way. "I'm afraid he has been captured, ransomed by privateers."

"What?!" Flames danced between the dragon's teeth, as he spat the word, but he caught himself. He gently soothed the now cowering guard before him.

"Steady, steady. I know you're not to blame. Where might I find them?"

Cecil sputtered for a moment - "I could but----" his voice trailed off. He took a deep breath. "While I certainly don't like them, I would not wish them dead. I used the word captured with great intent. We have had some rather bloodless encounters with one another lately, and peace seems imminent, but not yet here."

"Hmmmmmmm.........." the pensive sound continued for what seemed like an impossibly long time. "What is your name, brave guard?"

"HA! Cecil the Brave, apparently!"

"Well Cecil the Brave" - he cringed at the idea of trying to explain that he was joking - "I, Glassmaker promise to you that I will do everything within my power to preserve that peace."

"No killing." Cecil wished he could've sewn his own mouth shut as soon as the words tumbled out.

Glassmaker tilted his head slightly, and a smile flashed across his lips, showing a staggering number of glittering white teeth. "Cecil the Brave indeed! Very well Cecil. A friend of Alden is a friend of mine. I cannot promise you no killing, but I can promise you that it will be my last resort."

A claw as long as Cecil's forearm poked through the window, and it took him a moment to realize that Glassmaker had extended his pinky, and wanted to shake on it.

"Deal!" Cecil's grin was wider than his whole head. "They can't have taken him far. They have 3 castles dotted up the coast, starting 100 miles north of here."

Glassmaker's running start took him to the air with staggering speed. His voice boomed "When I return, we will have to discuss when you can visit for tea!"

The adrenaline still pounding in his ears, Cecil half walked, half staggered home shaking like a leaf the whole way. Who could he tell? Would they believe him? He stopped. Tea. What do you bring a dragon as a housewarming gift? He grinned to himself. "Guess I'll just have to ask Alden when he gets back!"


m-s-c-s t1_j692nsm wrote

Glassmaker chuckled to himself as he circled high above the castle. The small band of mercenaries were armed to the teeth as they tiptoed out of the back gate. Scorching "parlay?" in flaming letters on the meadow in front of the castle had hardly been subtle, but he hadn't quite expected them to simply flee.

No... not fleeing. They carried among their swords buckets of paint. "Terms?"

His wings folded as he dove silent except for the rush of air past his wings, landing daintily behind them.

"I beg your pardon, but would you mind if we simply spoke face to face?"

In hundreds of years, it never got old. He watched them collapse into a disorganized heap of curses and yelps. Some of them even fell flat on their backsides, making a pleasant ringing sound as their shortswords clanked off armor and rock. They exchanged terrified glances, eyes trailing over the huge splashes of cornflower blue paint now covering their armor and swords, shaking like leaves to man.

"Sorry about that. I find it safer to land behind a party when they're armed."

Some sobs. A bit of gibbering. "Now now, none of that. I'm here for Sir Alden Darwin."


"Sir Alden Darwin. Bout yea high. Short red hair. Big toothy smile beneath a big twirly red moustache."

"h-h-h-h-he's not here."

Glassmaker cocked an eyebrow. He opened the palm of his massive hand, and revealed a handful of sapphires, each the side of a robin's egg. "Are you certain?"

He saw the fear flash to greed in the eyes of around half the men. The other half were more sensible. One in the back he looked pointedly at. He knew a man scheming when he saw it.

"You. The leader. Stand up."

A man a few years younger than Alden stood up. "I'm in charge here and--" under the level gaze of the dragon he suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

The schemer, hair steel-gray and more than enough scars to go with the years, spoke up. "Guess the Dragon's in charge now."

"Oh, I don't really go in for that sort of thing. I'm just here to negotiate Alden's release. He missed our luncheon three weeks in a row."

Utter confusion. Two different arguments broke out, and he couldn't help it. The indignant shout of "--some kind of dragon-sized mug of ale?!" made Glassmaker actually burst out laughing.

It took several minutes to convince the mercenaries that the gouts of flame were not on purpose, but the fact that they had been directed well away from even mild singing distance mollified them some.

Lighter a handful of gems (after all, he could always return for a "refund" if they had misled him) he winged his way north and west, scouring the coastline for a barque moored to a dock flying a cornflower blue flag with a -- they had really hesitated to tell him this -- wounded dragon sigil.


m-s-c-s t1_j69ab5x wrote

Cecil was on duty again, but this time his eyes were peeled. He had his wonderful Petra with him to keep him company - and keep him awake. She often visited him during the day to bring him lunch anyhow, and she was enjoying spending a quiet afternoon on a warm summer day people watching. "She truly is made of stone" he'd say with a soft smile, and they would nod as though they understood. They thought of the cold stone floor beneath their feet, but in his mind he was basking on a rock in the sun.

He had started by telling her she was going to think he was crazy. "I already did, so no worries there." But her eyes grew wide as the tale carried forth. She sat in silence for several minutes. Finally, Cecil couldn't take it. "Well what do you think hun?"

" you think I'm invited come with you to tea?" He burst out laughing and smothered her in kisses.

A day dragged by. Two. Cecil was starting to get worried when on day three, during the midday sun when everyone was inside to escape the scorching heat, Glassmaker returned.

"CECIL! I'm getting closer, but I need som--- oh! Hello there!"

Cecil hooked an arm around his wife's surprisingly still shoulders. "Glassmaker, allow my to introduce my wife, Petra!"

She gave a small curtsy and Glassmaker gave a rushed bow. "Lovely to meet you, you MUST join us for tea when I return" (she blushed, thinking he must've overheard earlier somehow) "but right now I'm in need of urgent aid. I need you to paint me like this."

The shimmering green stripes painted atop Glassmaker's dark blue skin were dizzying to look at. The golden spear had been so artfully applied that it really did look like it was making a bloody wound in his side, but somehow it made Cecil deeply worried. One of the townspeople had helpfully tied several bedsheets together and made a sort of false bandage to cover the gory parts.

Glassmaker clutched a sapling-sized flag pole, the cornflower blue bedsheet flapping cheerfully in the wind as he glided effortlessly on the thermals back to the coastline. He could already see the stadium and hear the cheering crowd inside. This would be one tournament they would never forget.

The opening ceremonies would be a declaration of peace, followed by 5 days of games and amnesty for prisoners. All this hinged upon Glassmaker agreeing to land as a sign of blessing for the peace. The plan was kept secret, but special care had been taken to ensure no panic at the event. "Expect something big! It might seem scary, but we promise it's safe."

Safe. He grumbled a little internally. He was not safe. He was kind. Merciful. Even a little silly sometimes he admitted, looking at the stripes and flapping flag.

Something was wrong. The men on the stage were not the men from the boat. The men from the boat were standing on... gallows. The speech ended with "and we take these signs from the gods that these men be declared traitors and executed for their crimes." A smattering of confused applause.

He tucked into a fast dive, slamming to earth in front of the gallows.

"Morcant. Seems things haven't gone to plan."

He was so relieved he could've hugged the beast. "No. The scum at the podium decided war was way more profitable."

"All of them?"

"All except the woman on the far left."

"Sorry, Cecil" he thought, as his jaws opened. He reached for the first on the end, but he paused. No. Let the humans handle it their way. But perhaps he could set them on the right course. He turned in a broad circle, speaking to the crowd.

"The men on the stage were afraid because the men at the gallows had won my trust. I came here dressed as your sigil to honor them. Take what signs from that you will. What say you?"


m-s-c-s t1_j69ldez wrote

Murmurs of confusion rippled through the crowd. A few guards arrived, took one look at the massive dragon painted like their sigil, and immediately stood at attention. Whatever was going on, they were waiting for some goddamn orders.

Minutes passed. Glassmaker paced tensely. What was going on? Impatient, he finally barked "have any of you seen Sir Alden Darwin? Could someone please fetch him?"

The confusion rose in pitch to a dull roar. The soldiers glanced nervously at one another. Glassmaker gritted his teeth. One of them snapped, falling to pieces on the ground. Damn. It'll take a month to regrow that. He pointed a clawed finger at a nearby guard who was looking up with a friendly smile, and silently beckoned him over.

"Soldier, what is going on?"

"I... I was going to ask you that, sir."

Shit. Well so much for that. "Do you know where Alden is?"

"Yes sir. He is in the cells beneath this very stadium."

"Is he safe and well?"

The soldier hesitated, and winced at the look on Glassmaker's face as he noticed the pause. "Well enough. He broke his arm trying to escape last week. HE FELL! Honest! Ask him yourself!"

Glassmaker's expression softened. "Please have him released, given a bath, fresh clothes and any provisions he needs, and have him brought to me at once."

He was going to let Alden figure this nonsense out. But that would take time. He sighed deeply. His voice boomed out "People of..." and he trailed off. Where are we? He leaned to another guard "where are we?"

"Arnun, sir."

"People of Arnun! Clearly there is more to this than meets the eye. A trusted mediator is on his way. In the mean time," he made a c'mon! get playing! gesture to the band, blowing over a few sigils and banners in the process. "We shall celebrate the upcoming peace!"

Confused applause, and a mix of cheers and even a few boos. One woman literally covered the mouth of the woman booing in front of her. "Are you out. Of your. Mind. YOU ARE BOOING A DRAGON."

Glassmaker attempted to stifle another fit of laughter, barely containing a gout of flame from taking out half the stadium.

The band creaked and cranked through every crowd favorite they knew, and then every crowd pleaser they know, and then they played whatever half-remembered songs they could think of. At last, a massive wide red moustache arrived half a stride before the man who grew it.

"GLASSMAKER! I should've known. These folks are a hoot and a holler let me tell you. We ready to get out of here? What the hell is all that paint?"

The dragon shook his head and chuckled. "Apparently there's a bit of a faff going on. These sailors" he gestured vaguely towards the gallows "say that the mob on stage" a stage-ward head wag "were going to cancel the peace and keep the war going. But that lot say that THESE lot were supposed to be executed. How do we get to the bottom of it?"

Alden tried to reach up to scratch his chin with his hand, realized it was in a cast, and switched to his other. He traced a nick from his rushed shave as he thought. He sucked the smudge of blood off the tip of his finger and thought some more.

"Hell, I have no idea. Hey you sailors. What would you have us do with the other people."

One of them belted out "Well we're a little miffed about them being ready to hang us!"

"Heh!" teeny puff of flame "But that's not what I asked."

Morcant looked up. "Easy. Court. Trial. Conviction or acquittal. Sentencing based on the crime. Fair and square. Perhaps more than they deserve. We don't actually have a death penalty." He shot a glare at them.

"In our defense" one of the slightly nervous looking members of the gallows-justice crew squeaked "there was a trial."

A fresh wave of boos and jeers roared from the audience. Bones from the snacks people had brought pelted the stage.

Glassmaker did his toothiest smile, the fresh gap bleeding slightly. "It looks like there has been a new trial, just now. Perhaps their trial was unfair in some way?"

The noise started to peter out. No cheers, no boos. An awkward cough here and there. Morcant frowned.

"What's the matter! Don't want to explain what happened now?" The sailors gave dark laughs.


m-s-c-s t1_j69ynhr wrote

The woman on the far left of the stage shifted slightly in her seat. Finally, she went to slap her hands on her knees as though to get up, thought better of it, and did a slightly more dignified stand from the chair.

Her jet black hair flowed behind her in a long ponytail, swinging softly from side to side as she daintily stepped through craters in the turf. She pulled idly at the sigil on her chain shirt, humming a soft lullaby from Arden.

Alder started at the gentle touch on his shoulder. "Euphemia Gregoria! How lovely to see you again."

She tittered softly, and there was a scent of mint on the air. "I'm having such a wonderful time trying to figure out these people. We were awful close to ending the war, but then this mess happens." She breathed a sigh and the air glittered and flashed in front of her. "These aren't the worst of the lot by a long stretch. I think we can settle this out. Further north, things get a little more dicey."

Alder snorted derisively. A whisker curled up, slightly singed.

"What's going on with these sailors? Why the stretched necks plan?"

"Oh, the usual small village politics. Mismanagement of this, fighting over that. The mayor figured they'd bring 'em out here, let the audience convict them, scare them a bit, see if they confess. The gallows don't even work. Watch." She jumped and grabbed a rope, and it pulled taut and then fell off the gallows limply to the floor. The sailors' faces crashed through anger, laughter, and then finally relief.

She settled back close to Alder. "Honestly, they were hoping to get them to confess to treason but I'm pretty sure they're on the up and up after standing at the gallows and holding true. A bit harsh though. It's true, they don't have a death penalty. They had to design these gallows from looking at a painting! Some influence from elsewhere is at hand. The sigil these people bear is a copy of one borne by a new king. It appears to be based on a real event. A battle."

That got his attention. A dragon downed was a rare thing, but a dragon downed on a field of combat? "Fighting for whom?"

"For them." She gestured expansively at the crowd. "But I haven't been able to find out why. The pair is very secretive."

"Ah. No wonder. I was frankly astonished Glassmaker let them paint him up like that. So a green and a blue. Do we know them?"

"No, but they know us. Keep your eyes wide open here Alder." She shifted her weight to her other leg and shouted up to the stage, "Satisfied Duncan?"

"Sir Duncan" he muttered. "Yes."

"Marvelous! Now, I believe we have a tea appointment tomorrow?"

Glassmaker gingerly slid his head down between them. "Indeed we do. I've invited some new guests as well! Do you know Cecil the Brave Alder?"

Alder's mouth dropped open. "Cecil... the brave? Wife's Petra?"

"THE SAME! They'll both be joining us." His grin looked all the more manic as another drop of blood fell from the gap in his smile.


m-s-c-s t1_j6ahfps wrote

Cecil paced for hours. Where were they? The ceremony should've been long done by now. He glanced nervously at the setting sun, scanning the horizon with all his might for a hint of the dragon.

Glassmaker thudded to a landing, rolling forward awkwardly and collapsing in a massive heap of guttering flame a few hundred paces from the castle. "GLASSMAKER! WHA---" Cecil was already sprinting when the sound of howls of indignation reached his ears.

"DON'T TICKLE ME UNDER THE WING WHILE I'M LANDING! I might've squished a cottage!" Alder lept deftly from the heap, while a strange woman Cecil didn't know rolled on the ground, totally doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down her face. As she stood up, still chuckling, he saw her flick something away from her eye and slowly regain her composure.

"Ah if it isn't Cecil the Brave and the lovely Petra!" Alder strode towards them as Petra snorted back laughter.

"I don't think you're living that one down any time soon, dear."

"Allow me to introduce Euphemia Gregoria! Friend, colleague, and fellow tea guest!"

As she walked forward to shake their hands, Cecil noticed what looked like icicles hanging from her eyelashes. She quickly brushed them away. "Cold at altitude up there!"

Alder clapped her on the shoulder warmly. "Well, let's find some lodging. Glassmaker, tomorrow as the sun crests the treeline, edge of the woods? I'll bring the water and leaves, you bring the heat!" The dragon gave an approving poof of flame and hove into the air.

"Oh! Alder, what shall I bring to tea tomorrow?"

"You bring yourself Cecil, and Petra too of course!"

"We would nevershow up to such a grand invitation empty handed!" Petra's face furrowed into a worried frown.

Euphemia looked pensive for a moment, and then spoke with firm conviction. "Bring some limestone scrap if you can get it. It's basically dragon biscuits. It'll help his tooth come back in too."

"Like... the rock?"


Cecil led them back through the gates and on a grand tour of the village, with Petra pointing out all the important places. They took a brief detour to the mason to pick up several pounds of limestone scrap. They arrived at a small inn near the center of town. "This is where we part ways! See you midmorning!" Alder waved cheerfully, and Cecil watched his moustache bob away through the doors, Euphemia trailing behind floofing her long hair out of its ponytail.

"Cecil?" "Hmm?" "I never noticed it before, but Alder's breath. It's some spice I've never smelled before."

"Mmm. Yeah, come to think of it."

"Euphemia's smelled of mint."


"Glassmaker's smelled of the same as Alder's."

"What, are you worried they had tea without us?" He bumped her gently with his hip.

She giggled softly and threaded her fingers between his. "No silly. I want to ask them how they did it! We've been using sage, but I want minty breath!"

He stopped at a stall nearby to buy a small bundle of mint. Petra used her free hand to work open the coin purse while he held it out. Why stop holding hands when we can work together?

They chewed their mint leaves, ambling on a leisurely stroll to their little cottage.


m-s-c-s t1_j6al8e9 wrote

Cecil was up with the sun. He couldn't help it, he was so excited. He gently lifted Petra's arm off his shoulders and retucked the blanket around her, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek. She stirred softly and smiled in her sleep.

Grabbing a spare hammer and chisel from his bench, he set to work on the soft limestone in the field, out of earshot of his sleeping wife. He hadn't carved in ages, but soon his hands found the familiar rhythm as he thought about the past few strange days.

He had known Alder for years, and had been devastated at his capture. The risk to his friend had been immense and he'd been terrified that the war would heat up and the ransomers would resort to more crude methods. They'd received their shared of locks of hair, but he'd heard of towns getting whole hands in a box. He shuddered to even think of it.

Something had changed five or six years ago, gradually growing more and more violent, but they had finally quieted down. So what was bothering him?

Distracted, he missed and chipped the wrong part of his little limestone sculpture, and left a long gouge along the top. Damn. He shaved it smooth again and refocused on the task at hand.

When Petra found him in the yard, he was carving the third and last large piece of stone. "Oh! It's been years since you carved! Are those the castles Glassmaker visited?"

"Two of them are. This third one is further north. They say there's a new king there."

She saw the look of worry flash across his face.

"My rock, I've heard... rumors. Rumors of huge battles with many dead, and no winners."

They sat in silence for several minutes.

"I've heard a rumor too." Cecil looked up. Petra took a short breath. "The rumor said that dragons were in the battle. I'm worried about Glassmaker. I'm worried about our home."

"Me too."

She sat next to him on the ground, and laced her fingers into his. "We'll ask them about it at tea. Let's start our walk."

He packed the castles carefully in straw in a sack. Petra held out a piece of jerky from a pouch on her belt. Hand in hand they started towards the edge of the woods.


m-s-c-s t1_j6at3c2 wrote

As they reached the edge of the trees, they could already hear Glassmaker struggling to contain his laughter as muffled jets of flame shot into the air, followed soon after by Alder starting another bawdy limerick.

"--and then the baker's wife says, that's not flour!"

A gout of flame roared out of Glassmaker 30 feet into the field, singing the tips of the grass and sending a family of rabbits scattering.

"Aim higher! Don't want to burn down the neighborhood old friend! Cecil! Petra! So glad you could join us! Oooh, what's in the sack?"

They looked at the blanket laid out with some fine bread, honey butter with sesame seeds, a flagon of wine, a snifter of whiskey, and a huge glass jug of water.

"Limestone! To help our growing boy's teeth come in bright and strong!" Petra cheerfully hummed a song her grandmother used to sing when she was making dinner. It was in the southern dialect that she didn't learn until she was older, and it seemed the words were ever changing, so all she could remember is the tune and the last few lines. She broke into song anyhow, making up some new words for the first half. "Castles for dragon's teeth, grinning he shines! Biscuits for fair friends, sharing their rhymes! Ice in the whiskey, fire in the wine, the drink may be risky, but brings with it time."

She smiled to herself and looked up to see everyone staring at her except Cecil, who was staring at them staring at her.

"Wh..." Euphemia's voice quavered. "Where did you hear that song?"

"Have... have I offended you? My grandmother used to sing it at dinner when I was a child. The start was always different, but the last few bars were always the same. I finally learned what they meant when I was older."

"No you've done nothing to offend us! It was beautiful Petra." Alder put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "This song is very old. There are few who know it. Where was your grandmother from?"

"Arden. Why?"

Cecil put a comforting arm around his wife's shoulders. "What's going on? What's so important about the song?"

The three exchanged glances.

"Petra, do you trust Cecil?"

"WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?!" She snapped back, fury flashing across her brow. Euphemia smiled gently. She cooled. "Of course. To the ends of time."

Suddenly Alder and Euphemia were gone, and in their place were two dragons, each double the size of Glassmaker.

They bowed gently. "My queen."

--and that friends, is where I'll pause for now.


Ilikefame2020 t1_j6b04yy wrote

Dude, you’re comedy is some of the funniest I’ve read in a while. Great response overall. Upvoted.


m-s-c-s t1_j6b0gds wrote

Thank you so much! I'm already thinking about more chapters now :)


SamJam900 t1_j6biys4 wrote

Tell me when you write more! Your style is so fun to read.


Tzaphiel t1_j6cmmjt wrote

Please tell me when you continue this story. I need more of the tale!


Zearkon t1_j6b0o09 wrote

If you keep going on a subreddit of your own let me know, I loved reading this!


Bryggyth t1_j6ba3ry wrote

That was a fantastically fun story, thank you for writing it! Definitely one of my favorites I’ve read on here, although I’ve always loved dragons haha.

That last part where we learn Alder and Euphemia are dragons makes the “A green and a blue” from earlier make a lot more sense. I take it the dragons in this world are divided up by color or something along those lines. Also explains why they were totally ok with causing a crash landing on a dragon!


LimeSkye t1_j6cacy2 wrote

Ack! You stopped! Nooooooo! More, please!


Lien417 t1_j6bx5u4 wrote


This is so great omg write more very please ;-;


Maglor_Nolatari t1_j6criuo wrote

Guess I'll have to save this for the future hope you'll write more.


Kam_Solastor t1_j6gs9wq wrote

I really, really, really hope you end up continuing this. It was an amazing read! Thank you.


m-s-c-s t1_j6gvbj5 wrote

I'm at about 8000 words now give or take...


maskedCarson t1_j6mtp7f wrote

this was amazing wow,,, if you ever decide to write more id love to see it !


MajorHunter84 t1_j6av05q wrote

This was a very fun read! If you write more I’d love to read that too!


m-s-c-s t1_j6av4cz wrote

Ya know, I think I have a lot more of the story still in me! Where should I put it though? Just keep adding it to this thread?


MajorHunter84 t1_j6ax5r6 wrote

You could do that, some other authors on this sub post to their own sub when the story starts to get long though.


m-s-c-s t1_j6aymbm wrote

Ooooooooh, I like that idea. Thanks!


Inageby t1_j6an76y wrote

This whole thing is amazingly written and has fleshed out characters. I love it, sounds like a bards tale. Might I steal some of the ideas and use them in a d&d game?


m-s-c-s t1_j6ao5qy wrote

Absolutely not. You cannot steal what is freely given. Take them and use them fellow DM :)


Inageby t1_j6aqkg8 wrote

Cheers. I love your mind. I hope you keep writing to your hearts content.


MikeColorado t1_j6aarvd wrote

You know when it is that long and you don't even realize it, because the flow is so smooth. Well written, nice pacing, if this was a short story or a book, I am certain the only way I would put it down was when I reached the end.


MrRedoot55 t1_j6a9uui wrote

Good work.


m-s-c-s t1_j6aagfa wrote

Thank you! I'm kinda astonished how many people are sticking with me through this tale!


NotAMeatPopsicle t1_j6armoo wrote

Um, YEAH!! I mean, tea with a dragon? After that Rescue? This has a slight whimsy to it that’s not quite Monty Pythonesque, but not not Monty.

Awaiting your next installment like my paycheck.


Eletroboss t1_j6ah46o wrote

Dude/gender-neutral form of dude wrote a flippin' novel in the space of a few messages


m-s-c-s t1_j6aijms wrote

Hahaha! Dude in this case! I hope you're enjoying it as much as i'm enjoying writing it :)


StubbornKindness t1_j6akxpy wrote

It's fucking fantastic. Stick with it, take it easy, enjoy the compliments. And thanks for the enjoyment 😊


m-s-c-s t1_j6amia2 wrote

HAHA Thank you! I'm just having a blast!


SpikedZen t1_j68odcx wrote

This was a great interaction. Very well written :D


m-s-c-s t1_j68qyqq wrote

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it! I had like 3 or 4 different ones flash through my head that were all TREMBLE BEFORE ME type stories, but the prompt had such a fun opportunity there - there was no threat of death, only destruction. Once I noticed it I knew I had to use it :)

I'd probably change a few things here and there (I used lips for the smile twice too close together, a few word tweaks and stuff.) I kinda wanna see where else the story takes me. I don't write much, so the answer is probably "a sad untouched .pages file sitting in iCloud" but we'll see!


quazerflame OP t1_j68xwkb wrote

I'm glad you caught the lack of death threats! I'd love to see a continuation, Glassmaker rescuing Sir Alden Darwin, and perhaps that tea as well!


m-s-c-s t1_j6amof3 wrote

Thank you so much for the inspiration! This is a blast! I'm still posting as more of the story bubbles up :)


Brokelunatic t1_j68sv8a wrote

This was good I’d love to see a continuation of it


m-s-c-s t1_j692zxj wrote

I added some! I'll try to keep the thread going as I think of more :)


Drof96 t1_j6991y7 wrote

Would love to read more! Great writing


WillCuddle4Food t1_j68dt6b wrote

It had been eighteen years since I last saw Bre'teria, and in that time, I'd never once heard her call me 'her' human.

"Do not test my patience!" Her great silver-scaled form bellowed, her wings flared with her fangs bared. "I shall reduce you and your ilk to nothing if you do not comply!"

Baron Crawford, a fat and pompous man of self import, balked at the threat with what looked like a boar leg in his hand. It seemed like he was actually considering freeing his captive for a moment before his sneer crept out. He took a disgustingly large bite of cooked boar meat and had the audacity to actually laugh at the majestic creature at his gates.

"I think not." He crowed before swallowing, standing at the edge of his hundred-foot tall wall around his estate. "Not without some...incentive."

His cackles were drowned out by the bellow of one pissed off dragoness. "Incentive!? The impudence! I shall rend flesh from bone, sunder your lands and salt your fields! Your incentive is that I shall be quick if you release my. Fucking. Human!"

I honestly expected the argument to go on longer, but Bre'teria smashing the castle gates. The deafening impact shook me from the top of the wall. Crawford fell on his ass in the most undignified way.

The slaughter that ensued was horrifying and glorious. Rather than kill the fools before her as a dragon, Bre'teria cast a spell on herself to make her human.

Gods, that silver hair was as mesmerizing as the last time I saw her.

It took her minutes to tear through Crawford's guards with her bare hands. She was a blur of Amazonian splendor as she kept true to her word. Limbs flew whimsically through the air as the cries of grown men echoed around the Baron.

Each spray of blood on his courtyard paled him by another shade.

"M-make her stop..." He cowered as he crawled on his knees toward me. His gems, gold, and jewelry scraped against the stone. A lone ornate dagger rested at his hip.

It was at this point I thought fitting to reveal I'd liberated myself from the chains that shackled me. His idiocy was abundant, and I felt responsible for making him aware. "No? You pissed off a dragon. I couldn't stop her if I wanted. You imprisoned me for my reputation alone, yet made no effort to prepare for the feats I'm renown for. Why would I worsen the world by letting a fool like you pollute it?"


"Leave it to a man to grow impatient and finish first." Bre'teria's airy sweet tones rippled across the stone. Even veiling her presence as a human, she was brimming with power and majesty.

And sass.

"My lady," I bowed after tucking the last of the dead baron's rings in my pocket, "I would never dare to offend you in the same way twice."

She stared with a sultry smirk a half a dozen paces from me, her lean arms crossed over her chest. "No, I'll be seeing to that." Her tone was borderline threatening. I didn't doubt she spotted me pocketing the jewelry I'd looted, so I wasn't certain what deserved this response.

The next few minutes ticked by as she stared me down uncomfortably. For her? For me? Possibly both. I certainly felt knots in my stomach.

"Why did you really save me?" I asked with a timidity I hadn't shown since my apprenticeship. "Your human? Your fucking human? When did that happen?"

She hissed as her eyes glowed with her magic. For a second, her draconian fangs were bared before she composed herself. She was proud, even by the standards of her kind, so such a confession was probably wounding.

"When the egg that held your daughter began to hatch. It takes eighteen years for a dragon egg to mature. I thought you'd like to be there when she's born."


foospork t1_j68rptk wrote

You could’ve let us know sooner that the narrator is a donkey.


VorpalBlade-54322 t1_j68n08i wrote

This is really really cool. I could include in on 18 years but I didn't wow nice twist


RevenantSeraph t1_j69fhur wrote

They'd taken her while she was asleep. They had to; they wouldn't have stood a chance otherwise, not with her breadth of skills and magic.

Now, Courage was blindfolded, bound, and gagged, slumped against a wall, clad in rough-spun clothing that wasn't her own. Her hands were injured, several of her fingers broken; no hope of using any magic to free herself, not without help.

"...I'm telling you," one of the bandits was saying, his voice fading in and out of Courage's wounded consciousness, "she's familiar to me. I know this woman."

"Yeah," another one joked, his tone implying something salacious, "I'll bet you do. A body like that, I wouldn't mind knowing her too."

A third voice spoke up, one with authority. "The people paying for this made it clear, hands off, no damage that ain't necessary. Had to bust up her hands so she couldn't do any sorcery, but that's it. You touch her, and I'll sell you to make up the difference in value."

Courage gave her head a slight shake, trying to snap herself back to awareness. She'd been captured, that much was clear, and it sounded like it wasn't a whim that had led to it - this was a job for these men, someone had paid them to take this risk. Courage certainly hoped they'd been paid well, and that they'd already spent it, because they seemed to be missing one important piece of knowledge: her partner.

"Go tell the rest of the lads," the third voice said, "to get the wagon ready and figure out amongst themselves who's goin' on the delivery. I'll take a dozen; don't want anyone stealin' our prize from us on the way."

"Right, boss," the second voice said, and Courage could hear his footsteps leave the room, a heavy wooden door slamming shut behind him.

"I'm telling you, boss, I know this wench." The first voice spoke again, his tone suspicious, and she could hear footsteps approaching her now. She felt a hand wrap around her chin and begin moving her face, tilting and turning it to take in her features. It surely wouldn't be someone recognizing her as Princess Marielle; there was nothing left of that soft little girl now, nothing but the name that only a select few were allowed to use. Long blonde hair chopped to shoulder length, and all the roundness of her face gone, burned away in the crucible of her life to reveal the angular steel underneath. Marielle had been harmlessly pretty; Courage was, at this point, dangerously beautiful, and deeply unrecognizable as what she had been once.

"Wait..." The voice spoke again, and the hand let go of her face, the boots moving away from her again. She heard the sounds of clanking metal; possibly her armor, and her weapons. "I do recognize this woman. This armor, the sword. This is..."

"Well? Spit it out," the leader's voice said, his tone impatient.

"I was a soldier for the kingdom of Harrenscourt. You know, the place that got burned by a red dragon about five years back?"

"Aye, you've mentioned that before."

"Well," the first voice said hurriedly, "the dragon had a rider, someone directing it and fighting alongside it. A woman."

There was quiet for a moment, though it was only quiet to those who didn't have Courage's skillset. She could hear what was coming, could hear the wingbeats growing closer through a window nearby; she could feel what was about to happen. The brigands couldn't, though, as wrapped up in sudden revelation as they were.

"You mean to tell me this woman...she's..."

The leader's voice was cut off by an earsplitting roar. Courage couldn't help herself; she began laughing, the gag muffling the sound. A second later, the air was rent by a deep, menacing voice, shouting loud enough to be heard in the neighboring kingdom.


The two men were silent. There was a beat of hesitation, and then footsteps approached Courage again. She felt fingers slide beneath her blindfold and her gag, pulling them out of place. She could see the rough-looking men standing over her, see their wide, fearful eyes and the sweat suddenly springing from their brow. She flexed her jaw, licking at her lips a bit to restore moisture to them, and as she did, the leader spoke.

"Call it off," he said roughly. The face that owned the voice was no less rough or terse; he was a stocky man, with a week's growth of stubble and shaggy brown hair. His arms looked like he'd definitely done his share of labor in his time - either that, or swinging of weaponry. "Call it off, or I run you through with your own sword, woman."

Courage smirked up at the man. "You kill me, and she will know it. And she'll make sure every single one of you dies in the most horrendously painful way she can think of. And Fer'Atha, she's very inventive. Very clever. She'll invent new forms of torture just for you. So no, I think the only thing I'll be calling right now is your ridiculous bluff. Let me go, and you might live to see tomorrow."


RevenantSeraph t1_j69fir7 wrote

An uproar could be heard from outside; there was a thud that shook the building, and the sound of men yelling. Some in pain, and some from the adrenaline of a combat joined. Sounds that were familiar to Courage.

"Sounds like she's taking the slow way," Courage said. "Doesn't want me to be caught up in any kind of carnage. That's not good for you; she likes to take her time, when she does this. And she's not any less tough."

"What do you mean?" The leader glowered down at her, one hand on a dagger at his side. "I swear, call her off, or--"

"Or what? You'll kill me? We've already discussed that option, and the fact that it isn't one you have." Courage couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice as she listened to the presumption of this kidnapper, as she heard him desperately try to reassert control of the situation. "Let's discuss the ones you do have. Your options, you foul-smelling oaf of a man, are to die quickly and painfully, die slowly and painfully, or let me go, and maybe live long enough to die on someone else's time. Choose carefully. She won't be any less angry after killing your men. Red dragons are notoriously hard to calm."

The yelling below continued, and the sounds of steel clashing. The inside of the room was quiet as the two men standing over her processed this, and then there was an almighty bang from below, the sound of a heavy door crashing off its hinges and to the floor.

"Think quickly, gentlemen," Courage said, "time is almost up. If she gets up here and you're still here, standing over a tied-up me, you're as good as charcoal. Sand's running, boys. Time to act."

The two of them moved immediately, lunging for the open window facing away from the door and presumably out to the back of whatever little compound they had here. It was only a second story window, which was fortunate for them as they leaped out of it without any rope or support. Courage could hear grunting as they landed, and then they were scrambling away, towards whatever cover they might be able to find, no doubt.

Courage sighed as she settled back against the wall, waiting. Not a couple of moments later, the door burst open, and a woman rushed through, an elaborate flaming greatsword in her hands. She was tall - closer to seven feet than she was to six - and well-built, a clear warrior. She wore no armor, though the slashes in her clothing showed red scale reinforcing the vital points on her tanned body, scale so hard no mundane weapon could penetrate them. Long red hair swung wildly around her face as her head whipped back and forth, looking for anything that might have been lurking in preparation to strike. Even with the tension of combat in her jaw and eyes, Courage couldn't help but admire the beauty of Fer'Atha's human form. Either of her forms was beautiful, really, but this was a different kind of beauty than the lethal, predatory grace of a dragon.

"Go easy, Fer'Atha. I'm here. I'm alright. The ones holding me left." Courage smiled at her partner, flexing her arms slightly to indicate that she was bound. "Cut me loose?"

Fer'Atha's glare was intense, her eyes like cinders in the dark of the room. "Where did they go? I'll make them pay for this, nobody tries to take you away from me, nobody!"

"Fer." Courage's voice was understanding, but firm. "It's okay. I'm...well, I'm not unharmed, but I'm alive. A quick shot of magic from you and I'll be right as rain. Just please come cut me loose, being tied up like this is not comfortable. There'll be time for the rest later."

Fer'Atha blinked at her, and the tension in her arms and shoulders slowly released, the sword vanishing into nothing as she released the magic that had summoned it. She walked across the room and knelt down next to Courage, working her fingertips under the ropes. She bit her nails - black, and sharp as claws - into the rope, and pulled roughly, slicing through them.

Courage sighed, and flexed her shoulders, bringing her arms out from behind her back. "Oh, gods, thank you. I was worried I'd lose feeling in them entirely. Though, that might not have been utterly terrible..." She held up her hands, bruised and damaged, with several of her fingers pointing in unnatural directions. "Looks worse than it feels, I guess. All that pain control training finally came in handy. Help me out?"

Fer'Atha's expression as she looked at Courage's hands was one of mixed concern and anger, and she closed her hands around Courage's broken ones, a green glow surrounding them as the healing magic began its work.

"I...was scared, Mari," Fer'Atha said. "You were just gone, no note or message or anything, I was so scared. I thought your brother and his men had found us, or maybe servants of the Black Dragonflight. I thought I'd never see you again..."

There were tears swimming in those crimson eyes as Fer'Atha regarded her, and Courage smiled back at her draconic partner. "It might be related to one of those things. I'm glad you didn't just burn the place; now we can look for some kind of clue as to who wanted me so badly. But for now, just know that I'm glad you came for me, that you found me."

The healing had finished, but Fer'Atha kept Courage's hands in hers, their gazes locked. "I'll always come find you," Fer'Atha said, her voice low and intimate. "You're everything to me."

"As you are to me." Courage removed one of her hands from Fer'Atha's, and set it on the dragon-woman's cheek. "Now come on. We've got more work to do. Are you comfortable staying in a human form for a little while longer?"

"As long as you like, Mari. What are we looking for?"

"Paperwork, perhaps," Courage said, giving her partner a wry smile. "Or at least, a big bag of gold. These men were paid to take me - let's find out who did the paying and why."


Kam_Solastor t1_j6gt7s1 wrote

Ooo, very nice, a lot to unpack here. Would love it if you continued this.


RevenantSeraph t1_j6gwde0 wrote

I've done some stuff with these characters on my personal subreddit. I took a bit of a break but I'd like to get back to writing and this might be a thing to write about. Hmm...


VegaVisions t1_j68vcsr wrote

Three members of the Bravery Militia deliberated at their meeting place. Each studied a map sprawled out on a wooden table. A stack of papers documenting all of Crow's Pond residents sat nearby. The Hunter's Guide Against Dragons shook in Gillis's arms.

"We have to meet the dragon's demands. It claims the peasant is more valuable than a horde of gold. I have no reason to believe that, but regardless, dragon's are tenacious and won't stop until their desires are met." Gillis said.

Noa shook her head. "I won't be able to sleep if we surrender the little girl."

"Let's be grateful its asking for a peasant rather than a princess."

"I'd be just as upset if the Dragon asked for a princess," Noa said.

"Would you rather choose the other option and have the dragon pillage Crow's Pond until it retrieves his prize?" Gillis spat.

Raik knocked on the table. "Can we all agree none of us will be satisfied until everyone from peasants to princesses are safe?"

Gillis furrowed his brow at the youngest member of the group. "We're Crow's Pond best defense but are outmatched when it comes to certain creatures. Dragons top the lists. Keeping everyone safe? You'd have a better luck slaying a werewolf on a new moon night."

"For once, I agree with Gillis," Noa said. "We will have some kind of loss because the dragon proposed a chariot scenario. Do you know what that is Raik?"

The young man shook his head.

"Imagine a chariot filled with innocent people moving at a remarkable speed on a pathway. Further down, a person lays passed out on the dirt road. You play a wizard who's watching the event unfold. You can use a spell and redirect the chariot but doing so will lead it off the pathway and into the woods where it will crash and kill every passenger. Or, do you allow the chariot to remain on the pathway and run over the one person?"

Gillis clapped his hands. "In our case the peasant girl is the person on the road; the remaining population of Crow's Pond represents the chariot's passengers. I rather have one person die than a whole bunch."

"But could you live with yourself knowing that you were the reason the person on the road died? We must not forget that the person is a peasant girl is young, perfectly innocent, and undeserving being captive."

The three fell into silence.

Raik knocked on the table once more. "The chariot scenario ends with a period once a decision is made, but our decision can end with a comma."

The other two looked at him wearing a baffled expression.

"Interesting. Go on," Gillis said.

"I agree that we won't be able to successfully defend Crow's Pond from a dragon attack. Her buildings are flimsy and dull blades gather in the armory." Raik drew a breath. "We must give in to the Dragon's demands and hand over the peasant girl. But we won't stop there -- that's our comma."

"I refuse to go along with this plan," Noa interrupted, but Raik raised a hand to hush his fellow member.

"The dragon claims that the girl is more costly than gold. Though the idea is unclear to us, we know that it will care for her. Once she's captive, we wait for days. Perhaps weeks. When the dragon relaxes its guard, we will take the peasant girl back."

Noa nodded in agreement, but Gillis shook his head.

"And then what? The dragon will storm Crow's Pond and reclaim its prize," he said.

Raik cracked his knuckles, "Then we'll have to slay the dragon while we're at it."

The young man's last statement convinced Gillis to nod in agreement.

"There is one issue. We have to convince the peasant girl to be the dragon's prisoner," Gillis said.

"That won't be a problem," Noa said. "Though she might be young, the peasant girl has more adventure in her bones than the three of us combined. When we propose the plan, she'd act as if she was the fourth member of the Bravery Militia."

"Perfect. If she's going to be a part of our group, we must know her name."

Noa smiled.

"Her name is Valari."

---------- ---------- ---------- ----------

Thanks for reading! Please visit/subscribe to r/VegaVisions for more dumb dumb stories.


quazerflame OP t1_j68z1hr wrote


Wait, why does that name seem so familiar to me? Also, nice work!


VegaVisions t1_j690abs wrote

Thank you! I really dug the prompt.

I chose Valari cause it means brave in Latin (I think?). It fits with her being the newest member to the Bravery Militia


Nepeta33 t1_j691v6v wrote

agreed. im reading it as both the typical pronounciation of the name, and as "valor-ee", and its poking my brain with "hang on a second" feelings.


VegaVisions t1_j694ybf wrote

Is it typically pronounced “Vall-R-E?” That’s how I read it.


Nepeta33 t1_j6a2o7z wrote

Correct. Ive no idea Why my brain decided to fumble my own cousins name. But it did


TheManEric t1_j69prgi wrote

Belthas heard the roar from inside the tower. He hurried over to the window to see his dragon friend flying in a massive arc over the city. Down below he could see people fleeing in every direction. Guards dropped their weapons and ran for cover in a panicked frenzy. Families shut every window and door to their homes.

He knew he should pity them, but his heart filled with joy at the spectacle. Tears filled his eyes as a dozen more dragons, of all different sizes, filled the sky. Maegor, their leader, slowly descended onto the city's front gate. Behind him, the other dragons landed.

"Hear me citizens of Kerak." Maegor bellowed. "Release my human, and we will leave you all in peace. Do not, and I will reduce your walls to rubble and free them myself." Maegor roared once more and the other dragons joined him. The very earth shook and Belthas was forced to cover his ears.

"What say you?" Maegor bellowed. An eerie silence followed.

"Maegor!" Belthas cried out. "Maegor I'm here!" Belthas heard footsteps in the tower. He turned just in time to see the city's mayor, Rorath, peer through the vision slit of his door.

"I knew I shouldn't have trusted you," Rorath growled "What devilry possessed you to take up with them? Against your own kind and kin!"

"They are my friends, brother." Belthas said calmly.

"Until their stomachs are empty, like your head." Keys rattled and clanked, and the heavy bolt for the door was undone with a loud thunk. The hinges of the door whined as it opened. Rorath stood menacingly, glowering at Belthas. "Go. Go be with your friends."

Slowly, Belthas began to walk towards the door. Rorath's eyes followed him all the while. Meekly he squeezed past Rorath. In a flash, Rorath's dagger was out of its sheath and in his hands. Belthas flinched and froze with fear.

"I said GO!" Rorath belted. "Go before I cut your throat!"

Belthas turned and ran as fast as he could down the winding staircase. He nearly fell but caught himself on the wall. By the time he reached the bottom, he was out of breath. Briskly he made his way through the castle, hateful stares following him through every hall and corridor.

"Traitor." murmured a young girl. "Coward." said an elderly man. "Worm." an elderly lady spat. Finally, he reached the main gate of the inner castle. All that was left to do was cross the drawbridge over the moat, and then it was a straight shot to the main castle's gate. There, atop the parapets, stood Maegor. The city walls were nearly ten meters high, and Maegor made them look small. Under his massive talons, the stones crumbled and cracked.

When Maegor saw Belthas, he let out a small roar. Small for Maegor, at least. Maegor's tail flicked and he shifted eagerly on the wall. The stone towers on either side of the gate crumbled under the shifting weight, and clumsily Maegor stumbled down onto the main street.

Belthas broke out into a sprint towards Maegor, and Maegor dropped his massive head down to meet his embrace. Maegor's head and neck covered nearly half the distance. Belthas barely slowed down before colliding with Maegor's nose.

"Friend." Belthas said tearily. Maegor let out a sigh and Belthas was surrounded by the hot air. It didn't bother him in the slightest. Belthas stepped back to look at his friend. Maegor slowly opened his mouth and his massive tongue gently pressed against Belthas' face. Belthas giggled as he leaned into the tongue, so as not to be knocked off his feet.

Maegor dropped his head and tilted it for Belthas to climb on. When Belthas was halfway up, Maegor flicked his head to help Belthas up the rest of the way. "The others have missed you." Maegor said softly. "And so have I."

Belthas, laying flat, squeezed the scales he was holding onto just a little tighter. Maegor lept over the gate wall, spread his wings, and with a running start, the pair took off into the sky.


SereneRiverView t1_j6aepad wrote

This is interesting and can be taken two ways depending on the missing background. Either the castle folk are hateful of dragons and magic and resent Belthas for reaching out to them. Or Belthas is an evil wizard who is starting up his dastardly ways to take over the kingdom that his good brother Rorath was trying to stop.


NekrounRose t1_j6bwa2h wrote

Or even depending on which character's perspective you follow.


TheManEric t1_j6maxd4 wrote

I'm really glad you see it that way! I was torn on whether I should have a clear bad guy or good guy, and decided to leave it ambiguous.


Schroedingers_Dragon t1_j69rkx0 wrote

I smiled at the sound of Marthlok‘s voice. The knights had ”rescued” me a few hours ago when Marthlok had flown out to get some food because I was craving apples. For some reason those idiots took Marthlok’s absence as an invitation to break into our cave and kidnap me, while trying to assure me I was safe from the monster. So here I was now, stuck in some dumb guy‘s castle. I had tried explaining the mixup, but unfortunately no one knew sign language.

I could hear men screaming, orders, war cries. Their ignorance didn’t surprise me now. I walked towards the next window, wanting to see what was going on outside. One guy had stepped forward, his sword up high, shouting at Marthlok how they would never release me.

I touched the amulet around my neck and locked my eyes on Marthlok, trying to focus. ‘I’m here’, I told him. Still hovering above the grounds Marthlok looked up to me and nodded.“You are foolish men, for you try to meddle with things you don’t understand.“ Marthlok‘s voice was deep and clear. "And now you don’t even try to talk to me but want to fight. All I asked for is to get my human back. Shame.” With a strong beat of his wings Marthlok knocked all the guys over. I smiled. More guards came running out, trying to shoot arrows, just to be knocked off their feet by Marthlok flapping his wings. Finally he flew up to my window. “Stand away there for a second”, he advised me, before ripping out a piece of wall. I climbed over the rubble towards the dragon. ‘I’m glad you came’, I signed and swung onto Marthlok’s back. “Of course. Now come on, let’s go home before the apples rot.”


Pokerfakes t1_j6ae4c6 wrote

Apparently, "Heroing Without A License" is a capital offense in the Country of Blister. Emerald wished he'd known that last week, before he rushed into the burning hotel to save the crying girl. Emerald still would've saved her; he simply would've paid the five gold pieces first.

However, he hadn't paid, and now he was facing execution. The girl he'd saved was even forced to testify against him. She'd praised Emerald at the trial; she'd even looked Emerald in the eyes and thanked him for saving her life. Unfortunately, the prosecutor had used the girl's testimony against him, and the judge had no choice but to rule "Guilty as charged."

Emerald had tried to offer payment for his deed. However, the law was clear. It didn't matter that Emerald was able to pay for the license after the fact. It didn't matter that Emerald was from the Country of Dragonbreath. Diplomatic immunity wasn't offered in Blister. The judge cited precedent and various case laws, basically saying, "We set the license price high because we don't want inexperienced people to foolishly try heroing and get themselves killed. Nor do we want to be responsible for unvetted outsiders coming in, getting themselves killed, and having to deal with an angry international bureaucrat."

Essentially, Blister was making an example out of Emerald, to let other kingdoms and countries know "we mean business."

The execution date was set for one week after the trial. Dragonbreath was notified, merely as a courtesy. This was Blister's blunder. Emerald was married to a dragoness, and when she heard that her Mate was to be executed over "a mere scrap of paper," she was...displeased.

So, when Is'ti'ti crash landed on the wall and began bellowing burning blasphemies before Blister's bishops, Emerald wasn't surprised.

"Release my human hunny-bunny, and we will leave you all in peace. Do not, and I will reduce your walls to rubble to rescue them myself!"

Blister's bishops quicky conferred. They solemnly summoned the judge. After all, he was the one who gave sentence; the bishops preferred to be in the background.

The judge stood before Is'ti'ti, and he tried to summon his courage. In his courtroom, the judge ruled. Before this dragon, however, the only power he had was that of his office...which wasn't anything Is'ti'ti cared about.

"Lady dragon, I am confused. Our nation holds no prisoner of your concern, I assure you."

Is'ti'ti scowled. "You are 'holding' our HUSBAND, who you have promised to KILL today." Smoke began rising from Is'ti'ti's nostrils, a sure sign that her rage was being kindled.

Upon hearing the word "husband," the judge became disgusted. "No human would marry a dragon! No self-respecting man would ever be such a deviant! Such a thing would be against every moral codex ever written!" As the judge finished, the bishops all nodded in agreement.

Is'ti'ti smirked; she knew how to deal with these types. With a small click of her claws, she initiated a spell she had crafted, and she transformed from draconic into humanoid form.

To label her humanoid form beautiful would be a massive understatement. Her humanoid form stood a dominating eight feet tall. Her reddish golden skin shimmered in the sunlight. Firey red hair draped her back like a cloak of burning coals. Her eyes glistened like the purest diamonds of her hoard.

Is'ti'ti's smirk only grew larger as she approached the judge. "I can assure you, there are members of your race who would be so devious. I can certainly smell your response to seeing us in this form. And you're resisting your own urges as We speak."

Is'ti'ti placed a hand on the judges shoulder and gripped. Her sultry smirk changed into raging fury in an instant. "Now bring our husband here before we turn this wall into an ASH HEAP!"

Is'ti'ti flung the judge with a flick of her wrist. Just because she was in humanoid form didn't mean she was weak! The judge sailed backwards through the air, crashing into the bishops like a ball into bowling pins. However, with his adrenaline spiking, he managed to retort.

"Your scoundrel of a husband is within our walls!" The judge cried, going momentarily insane. "If you burn our walls to ash, he will burn along with them! Either way, OUR law will prevail!"

The judge started laughing like a maniac. Apparently he wasn't suited to be a bowling ball. Is'ti'ti sighed. The normal method wouldn't work, apparently.

Meanwhile, from his vantage point in his cell, Emerald could see everything happening on the wall. He tried sending mental transmissions to Is'ti'ti, but she was too far away. All Emerald could do was wait. He smiled, knowing that he would have quite a pleasant evening. Is'ti'ti always became frisky after transforming and expending magic. Emerald would always joke to Is'ti'ti that she was actually part succubus, to which she would just smirk and toss him into their bed.

Back on the wall, the judge had passed out from too much mental gymnastics. Is'ti'ti cast two spells. The first caused her to start hovering. The second caused the stones in the wall to start hovering as they separated from each other.

Is'ti'ti eyed the bishops. "Now. Will you bring us our husband? Or will I have to dismantle this city stone by stone?"

The bishops fled in a panic. They were simply too frightened to do anything else. Is'ti'ti groaned. This was going to take awhile.

Several hours, and many self-righteous guards later, Is'ti'ti reached the jail where Emerald was being held. The jailer, a dutiful man, spoke to Is'ti'ti.

"I'm afraid I can't let you just walk in here and take him." The jailer pointed at Emerald. "I think it's ridiculous to sentence a man to death for rescuing a young girl from a burning building. In fact, she was my own daughter! However, I cannot shirk my duty to guard this man."

Is'ti'ti looked at the jailer. He was still a younger man, though old enough to reasonably have a daughter of twelve. Is'ti'ti thought for a moment, then asked, "And what are we supposed to do? Just let your rulers kill our hunny-bunny, just because your rulers have some ridiculous law?"

The jailer merely shrugged. "I'm merely a humble jailer. I have a duty to perform. Though, I suppose you have one as well. Besides, the walls here, at least what's left of them, are known to have ears." The jailer positioned himself into a fighting stance with an obvious opening.

Is'ti'ti didn't miss the cue. She rushed forward and cast a sleeping spell on the jailer. As he slumped, she caught him, careful to not allow his head to hit the floor. She then broke Emerald's shackles and kissed him deeply. After it, Is'ti'ti scolded Emerald gently.

"You could've helped, you know."

Emerald chuckled. "I know. But I enjoy watching your theatrics almost as much as you enjoy doing them. And don't try to deny it." Emerald caressed Is'ti'ti's humanoid ears, sending shudders through her.

Is'ti'ti gently bopped Emerald on the back of the head as she caressed his back. "You really are a deviant. Our deviant. But this is neither the time nor the place. She whispered in Emerald's ear, "But there is a place."

Without another word, Is'ti'ti and Emerald left Blister. They went back to Is'ti'ti's home, and proceeded to know each other very well for the next three days.


RevenantSeraph t1_j6b7uwc wrote

>began bellowing burning blasphemies before Blister's bishops

Beautiful alliteration. I love Emerald and Is'ti'ti already.


jardanovic t1_j69yeo4 wrote


Captain Ivor unceremoniously dropped me onto the floor of the throne room, the chains around my wrist clanking loudly as they hit the ground. King Lawrence got out of his throne, walked over to the two of us, and said to Ivor, "Why is the side of your head bandaged?"

Ivor rubbed his wound and winced. "The girl bit my ear off."

Lawrence facepalmed. "Oh, for the love of--go get that treated already."

Ivor bowed and walked out of the room as I hissed at him. Lawrence sighed and knelt down beside me to say, "How long are you going to keep this up, June?"

I scoffed. "That depends. How long is forever?"

"I tolerated your... eccentricities for years now. When you became obsessed with the forest, I had it registered as a national landmark. When you insisted on learning to make potions, I had the royal apothecarian take you on as an apprentice. But this has gone too far. You're running around the forest in a cobbled together ranger uniform, living like a wild animal, assaulting the captain of the royal guard!"

"Feel like you're ignoring the part where you had me banished to the forest for making out with a baron's daughter."

Lawrence groaned in frustration and paced around angrily as he continued, "You are a princess, for God's sake! Your demeanor is reflective on all of the royal family! Your misbehavior is taken as evidence of--WILL YOU GET OFF THE FLOOR ALREADY?! I have had it with your tantrums!!"

I smirked. "I would, but it's really in my best interest to stay low."

"What do you mean in your--"


The doors to the throne room were blasted off their hinges and sent flying. Lawrence narrowly ducked to avoid them while I calmly watched them soar over my head and destroy the throne. Through the smoke that clouded the entryway, a dragon with burnt ochre scales emerged and stared down Lawrence murderously. Then she looked at me and happily said, "Hi pumpkin!"

I waved back and responded, "Hi mama!"

My mom turned her attention back to Lawrence and growled, "Take those chains off of my daughter or I'll flay the skin from your body and roast your exposed flesh."

Lawrence looked like he was pissing himself, but still found the anger to glare at me and say, "You allied yourself with the dragons?! That--that's treason! I'll have your head for this!"

I got on my feet as my mom replied, "First of all, June didn't ally herself with us, we adopted her. Second of all, my brother Ganymede burned the guillotine on the way here. Now you can either let my baby girl go or you can die screaming."

Lawrence got up and drew his sword. "I'll not let my kingdom fall to such--"


A blow dart lodged itself in Lawrence's throat, sending him falling back to the ground. From behind my mom's legs, a woman in her own makeshift ranger uniform appeared and smiled at me. My fiancee, Tulip. As she picked the lock on my chains, I said to her, "So how does it feel to be back in the castle after all this time?"

Once my chains were unlocked, Tulip took them off my wrists and purred, "Just as I remember it: empty of anything interesting save for you." I happily pulled Tulip into a kiss as my mom lowered her back and interjected, "Come on, you two. You can be adorable at home."

Tulip and I stopped kissing and got on my mom's back as I announced, "Bye Lawrence! Hope I never see you again!" With that, my mom turned around and flew out of the hole in the castle wall to begin the journey home.


PrinceCheddar t1_j6aa6av wrote

"I would like to talk to you about the two types of dragon. About the difference between good dragons and evil. I'm sure you know that good dragons do not care about hording treasure. They don't have endless piles of useless trinkets they protect religiously, in contrast to evil dragons, who amass sizable hordes of gold, silver, gemstones, rare artifacts and magical items.

However, this is a misconception. There isn't really "good" and "evil" dragons. It is merely a difference in what they value. The dragons that most humans would describe as evil are obsessed with things, with material objects that have great worth. Dragons that humans would describe as good are obsessed with people. A "good" dragon does not have a horde, but a territory. In that territory, the people are its treasure. They know every man, woman and child. They watch their lives from afar, seeing generations unfold and grow. Seeing a babe grow into adulthood, to fall in love and create new treasures, is one of a dragon's greatest joys in life. Some will leave it like that, while others will make their feelings known. On special occasions, holidays and festivals, they may fly down to feel what it is like to be surrounded by the beings they love so dearly. They protect them from invaders and interlopers, find food in times of famine and rescue those in peril. Often such dragons are worshipped as guadians by the thankful populace.

Of course, times aren't always happy in a dragon's territory. In times of plagues and disaster, the roars of a dragon can often be heard, a fury against a unfair world that would snuff out so many of their precious people. And occasionally, people will need to move away from a dragon's territory. While a dragon loves every one of their people, they will allow them to leave, for same reason they don't horde them in a cave like the other kind of dragon. If you were accepted by a dragon as their treasure, it matters not how far you go, or how long you are gone for, you will always be their treasure. Even if you leave to find your fortune in the capital and fall in love with the heir to a wealthy guildmaster who becomes your husband.

An "evil" dragon will burn down a kingdom to get back a single stolen coin. What do you think my godmother would do to you once word got back to the village how bandits kidnapped me? Shh. Do you hear that? It's the growing sound of wingbeats. A dragon comes to reclaim the treasure you so ignorantly stole. What will you do now?"


BlantantlyAccidental t1_j69fcb9 wrote

Old Hogan was the one who found them, huddled and scared on the side of the Laneway heading into town. Poor Hogan was heading back from his favorite pub when he happened upon the wretched thing, cold and weak from exposure.

I was asleep, having stoked the fires of the Maesters rooms and ensuring all the doors and windows were locked when Hogan barged into my room.

"Yoan, we have a problem!"

Hogan half whispered, half murmured as my door banged open. I shot out of bed, the twilight of sleep washed away by the rude surprise. Clothed in nothing but my gracious skin, Hogan promptly turned around and closed the door before then knocking politely...before opening the door and stating again;

"Yoan! We have a problem and sorry I didn't knock."

Still naked, I began to dress and question Hogan about the problem 'we' had. Since I was asleep, in my room, and couldn't fathom what could be the problem I assumed that Hogan was just drunk and confused.

"Ok, Hogan. Explain to me 'our' problem so I can fix it. Did you beat a wench at the pub again? I have only so much coin to spare for your shenanigans."

Hogan huffed at me as I said this, shaking his head.

"Naw, Yoan, its na' that. At all. I have plenty of coin myself to pay a Death tax. Naw, 'tis here is something worse. It's a human, and its Branded."

I was listening to Hogan half heartedly, absent-mindedly dressing myself. I had slipped a few golden Dakas into my pocket as he spoke, smiling at the sheer absurdity at Hogans words. It was the tinkling of the gold in my pocket, the rattle of the silver candlestick as I bumped into my nightstand on the way out of my room when Hogans words dawned on me.

"Branded?" I croaked out, freezing as I crossed the threshold of my bedroom.

Hogan had his beat up hat in his hands, staring at me with almost tears in his eyes. The single candle he held sputtered and died. I took a sharp breath, trying to slow the sudden rise in my heartrate. Humans were like vermin to the Horken and Dyads, who viewed Terragia as sacred. The Humans, they spread like a disease across the vast continents of Terragia since their arrival via the Heavens thousands of years ago. They dug and burned and built, destroying to support their society and people. Hogan, poor Hobbled Hogan was wounded by one of them during The War.

"Where is this Branded human, Hogan? What trouble have you brought home at this time of night?"

Hogan nodded and just turned and headed up the dark hallway of the Servant Quarters. I heard him begin to thump up the stairs into the Hall of the Maesterium, as I dutifully followed him toward this Human he was speaking of. In a way, I was excited. In another, I knew deep down there was trouble coming.

Only Drogons branded anything, and only Drogons scared the Maesters.


BlantantlyAccidental t1_j6amh2a wrote

The Maesters compound was quite large. I was thankful that Hogan hadn't left the human somewhere too far away. I was exhausted from the days work and not thrilled at loosing precious hours of sleep on some fool errands. In my mind, I was fooling myself over and over again.

Maybe drunk Hogan thought he saw a Brand? It was dark and foggy out, I know full well he doesn't walk with a lantern at night. It's all a figment of his imagination! What Drogon would ever let a human out of its reach? Nor, there hadn't been any Drogons near this part of the Dyad Empire. Centuries had passed since the last!

"Right?" I said out loud, which startled Hogan.

"Wut, Yoan?" The poor Horken looked at me, tusks nubbed with age. His leather gray face contorted in confusion. For a Horken, he wasn't by any standard handsome. Compared to the more elegant Dyads like myself at least.

"Nothing, Hogan. Do we have much father to go? Where did you hide this human away?" The thumping Hogan huffed, and continued to walk. A few more moments passed, and we entered the side hall of the Maesters quarters. Closing the simple wooden door we entered, we stepped down and around into a damp, cramped basement.

"You brought the poor thing to the root cellar, Hogan? I know its a Human but even they like the light. I bet it's scared out of its wits!" My voice was starting to rattle, as we approached the door to the root cellar in question.

"'It's in here, Yoan. Lemme unlock the door. I got it trussed up nice so it won't bite. It was cold and weak, but still tried to get away. I bonked it a bit and drug it back here."

Hogan had unlocked the cellars door and pulled it open, stepping out of the way to let the sputtering torch light above the door in. I grabbed it and walked deeper in. The smell of damp earth and semi-rooting vegetables assaulted my nostrils. Then a unique, very musky smell began to come through, almost overpowering even.

I inched forward until a pale foot creeped out of the inky darkness. I stepped forward, and there in the corner lay a male human, tied at the hands and feet with a gag, glaring at me. On its chest, a shimmering brand, the skin around it pale white and scarred. The human began to try and get away from me, and I took a step back, startled.

I wasn't startled by the humans sudden movement no. Not at all, I could handle a weak, pitiful human. They bled such a crimson red, and made such strange things. No, a puny human did not rattle my brain or quicken my heartrate.

It was The Brand.

It was an Aethilic Sigil, a special Brand Drogons used only on very special things. Things they coveted most dearly, above even their own lives. Something so precious, death would be a pleasure to recover.

"Hogan, I am going to pas..." were the last words I uttered before the blackness took me.


BlantantlyAccidental t1_j6d7uvq wrote

In my dreams, hurried voices and thumping exclamations intermingled with the existential dread and misery of why I had lost my consciousness. The darkness was welcoming in a way. What seemed like years passed, until the dull grayness of my brainmeat firing back up seeped through. I blinked my eyes as I realized I was laying on the table in the Maesterium Hall, and all the Maesters were all awake.

That thought made me sit up quickly.

To my left, Maester Surmond apparently sat smoking his ornate smoking bowl. My sudden rising from unconsciousness like that must have startled old Surmond for he dropped his bowl and screamed at the top of his lungs. His eyes shot wide, and he slid his chair back quickly. The sound of the chair legs on the solid wood floor let out a horrible, terrible sound just as the bowl he was smoking shattered.

All the Maesters that were mingling around the Hall went quiet and stared at me. The echoing of the chair died. The tinkling of broken glass. A Maester coughed. Another sniffing his nose. Hogan, poor hobbled Hogan stood in the corner, hat in hand, staring down. He was bruised, clothes rumpled and dirty. The human, now garbed in makeshift clothing, sitting at the table. A look of bewilderment and terror showed true on its ugly, pale face.

As I began to comprehend my surroundings, a shaky voice finally broke the uneasy silence.

"Yoan! You're awake. We have much to discuss about this late evenings events."

Maester Joheph, High Seer of the Maesterium, ancient in wisdom and age, powerful in the Aetherarts, leader of the Maesterium Aetheric Arts Guild stared at me with eyes filled with terror.

That did not make me, a lowly Dyad Servant, feel any better.

"Yes. Maester. I'll tell you everything that I know." I replied, having scooted myself off of the table and standing up. I wobbled a bit, still light headed.

"Before I do that though, let me clean this glass up. Maesters, please, don't step in the glass!" I exclaimed, having made my way to the broom closet beside Hogan. I opened it, shaking, going through the motions of my daily, ever dutiful role as servant. The Maesters all murmured thanks and grunts, as I swept up the glass. I piled it neatly and swept it expertly into a dustpan, and tossed it into the flames of the fireplace burning furiously away nearby.

If there was anything in the Dyadic society, it was To Serve, before all else, Duty First. The rote actions calmed my mind. It allowed me to set the evenings events in the right order. I strode back to the broom closet, replaced the items, closed the door and nodded at Hogan. He didn't look up from the floor. A bit of ochre blood dripped from a slowly healing cut on his gray face. A pang of guilt washed over me. I placed my hand on his shaking shoulders, and he began to sob openly.

"Hush the Horken, Yoan. We will deal with him soon enough. Now come tell us what has happened. This human here..."

Maester Surmond had resumed his seat, placing a arm around the puny human. It cowered away, but did not attempt to flee. Surmond smiled strangely, eyes glazing over from the Aetherweed.

" to be taken care of and safe from any harm. Do you understand, Yoan?"

Maester Kilik stepped forward. Killik, Maester Ironjoiner and Grand Fabricator shook as he spoke.

"Yes, which is why it has been bathed and clothed, and Cook currently has appropriate foodstuffs prepared for it to eat. It appears young, at least for a Human, and male. The Brand though! Terragia be with us!"

Murmuring, quick agreements and mumbled cursing. I squeezed Hogans shoulder, and turned to face my Elders. I walked back to the table, pulled a chair out, and sat in front of the Human in question. It stared at me, then just let its eyes wander around the Maesterium. I ignored it, closing my eyes and trying to concentrate.

I gathered my wits and began to speak.

"I was asleep when Hogan startled me awake. I assumed he was just drunk, but he informed me of having found a Human. I followed him to the eastern root cellar. Passed out. That, Maesters, is all I know. Oh, and Drogons are surely coming."

The finality of my statement seemed to drape over the Maesters, as they mingled amongst themselves.

Maester Joheph raised his arms, and shouted at the top of his lungs.


A hush washed over the Hall. The human, and Surmond pulled it in close. It barked and yelped, but didn't resist.

"We shall not panick! All will be well within our hallowed halls my fellow Maesters! Do not fret! We shall feed and care for that..." Joheph pointed at the Human, who had wriggled out of Surmonds grasp..."will be handed over to whichever Drogon comes and gets it!"


BlantantlyAccidental t1_j6ddcf3 wrote

Gallajorn Jarlkin had awoken from his century long power nap a few months ago. Dwelling in the mountains of Jarlun, this specific Drogon had secluded itself away from the others and was proud of the collection of odds and ends he had...procured over the years.

Gallajorn was a proud thing. Excited to be awake, to check on his things, to guide his people. His long endeavor to breed enough humans to start his own colony had come to fruition many years ago. He decided to slumber for such a short amount of time, for you see a hundred year nap to a Drogon was but a few moments.

So when he swept down from his Mountains to his Humans colony, he was not prepared. At all. For as he swooped down upon what he thought was just a smattering of huts and fires and 20 of the damned things, there were solid free standing structures, barns and shops. The colony had turned into a town. A bustling, vibrant thing that spread out neatly for the Humans. Which baffled Gallajorn.

What amazed the Drogon Gallajorn the most, was that the environment around the Human colony wasn't desolate. It was serene. Green, well maintained fields, livestock everywhere. Even brief puffs of steam could be seen. A sad sign, Gallajorn thought to himself. It was always the steam engine that began the ending of most Human colonies. It always rapidly progressed from that point, and they always destroyed themselves. It was a perpetual cycle of futility to them, but endlessly amusing to the long living Drogons.

Inspecting the lands of the Humans, and noting that they had indeed listened to his only command before going to sleep: Do not leave the shaded valleys of Jarlun. Though secluded from the rest of the Drogon Empire, Gallajorn was dangerously close to the Dyadic Accordant. A small Dyadic college town was many leagues away, yet he had not worried about any of his pets escaping that far. Not overly concerned, and from the way things looked his experiment was a rousing success.

"I must speak to their leader." he rumbled to himself, tilting his wing and dipping to find a place to land. His large Drogon form would certainly bring terror to the Humans below. He had flown high enough, his vision good enough that he was sure he hadn't been seen.

As he swooped in to land, he noticed that the humans in the town had begun to gather. A large, open field had been cleared in its center, and near its edge, closest to the largest and most ornate building stood a tall tower, bright flags flying. Gallajorns sharp vision caught a sight that made him smile.

Humans had gathered on the Tower, and all around its base, and in the clearing, which Gallajorn noted was roped off so no one could get into it. In the tower, gray bearded and hunched Human males stood.

Gallajorn smirked at himself, huge teeth gleaning in the bright twin suns of Terragia. His dull gray scales started to shimmer, turning a faint silver. If they were expecting something great, Gallajorn was gonna show up scaled to the nines!


Kurai_Tora t1_j6b2p4l wrote

Dave was worried, his little human was running late from her trip to the mage enclave. He circled around the city from above, trying to detect her mana and struggling. (Cassie, be safe!) He scoured the streets with his sight, attempting to glimpse her familiar red hair and silver dress.

His patience was running out by the second, it was almost dusk, she had left the cave at dawn yesterday! That was it, those humans surely did something to Clarisse, he had to rescue her! (If she's hurt, I'll burn this place into nothing!) His mouth began sparking with rage.

He started out by setting fire to the several flags and the decorative plaza to show he meant business. Once the humans were stirred, he landed on the main building of the guild, sinking his claws in the roofing. "Hear well, for I give no second chances!"

He saw some old humans gather down below, good, this must be the leaders of this place. "The mage Clarisse, set her free and I shall spare this hovel." These vermin looked confused, but he would not be fooled, his charge must be in peril.

"For fuck's sake, is he a moron?" A woman was pushing her way through the crowd, the overgrown lizard was committing a mistake that would cost her dearly. "I still got five floors to read through!" When the dragon craned his neck to threaten the grandmaster, she had to think fast.

A wooden clog hit his nose and he finally heard Clarisse. "Dave! Come on! I just fell asleep in the library, alright?!" The unamused mages watched as the woman picked the footwear and stepped on the dragon's outstretched paw. She turned to face the crowd and bowed her head.

"I apologize for my guardian, he can be overprotective. We'll pay compensation for the mess." Dave pouted at her words, he liked his hoard and didn't want to lose his gold. "Hey-!" She poked his chin with her staff to silence his protests. "Shush! You break, you buy, remember?"

The elders demanded extra gold as moral damage, and a vow from the dragon to not wreck the place again, with a counter vow to keep the woman safe during her visits. With things settled relatively amicably, Clarisse kept her right to visit and Dave got a dent in his savings. "Let's go home, I'm sleepy."

The dragon unfurled his wings and took off in a gale. While Clarisse felt happy to know he cared for her, his actions needed to have consequences. "I'll write to Garrett." In fact, she was already drafting the letter in her mind. "Please, don't." His elder would whoop his butt for losing his nerves and acting unlike his bloodline. "Too bad, so sad."


Pokerfakes t1_j6dgkcl wrote

>(Cassie, be safe!)

Is Cassie a nickname? This is the only time it appears.


Kurai_Tora t1_j6dgptj wrote

Yes. Cassandra to Cassie. He only does it in thoughts because she's embarrassed by it.


telpereon t1_j69j10s wrote

The robed man tried to get the dragon's attention as it continued it's rant in front of the castle. He knows that the dragon had seen him as its flaming breath no longer threatened the gate to the castle or him as he stands outside of one of the few ways into it.

"Woah, woah, woah...I am sorry but I think you don't understand the situation here, my good dragon," the small man in brown robes, a leather belt, and matching boots said in response to the dragon's statement. On his hip hung a small metal orb of silver and several chains of beads that ran a riot of colors. He holds his hands up in front of him and acts very defensive in response to the roaring declaration the dragon had just made.

They stood facing each other on the dirt cart path that lead up to and into the castle proper, just a few cart lengths outside the castle's main gate. From the castle walls, many people are hiding and trying to watching the conversation between the two of them as it goes on. There were even a few brave souls with bows and arrows pointed at the dragon from cover.

"I can understand your concern for them but, really, you must understand our dilemma. We just can not understand this course of action you seem to be trying to impose on us." He began. He looked over his shoulder back at the castle while waving a hand in their direction.

"You see, there are several arguments to be had here as to why you should not do this." He smiled up at the dragon's toothy face with warm friendship practically oozing out of him. "First, what about the dragon's that the dwarves have captive? Aren't they a greater priority than some simply humans that live in your caves? Shouldn't you all be doing something about that?"

The dragon comment had got its attention.

The dragon, which had been rearing up it's full height ranting at the castle just minutes before was now turning its head to the man and dropped to all fours. Until the man had come out one of the small door of the gate, the dragon had been making a terrible noise outside the gate for quite a while. It had even been throwing torrents for flame against the walls of the castle in punctuation of it's threats. It kept yelling for it cave people held in the castle right up until the man had finally got it attention.

"Secondly, we simply can not afford the cost of fixing our castle. We are here in the borderlands, trying to survive. As you can see while the castle is fairly strong we have spent far more of our funds on trying to expand the field to support this generation's children."

He tilted his head to the dragon as if sharing a secret. "You see," his voice lowered as if he was trying to speak only to the dragon. "We had a lot of indoor time, if you know what I mean, this last winter. It has us a bit concerned as you can imagine." He had actually winked as he said indoor time.

He straightened, "We just can't spend our little money on such things as repairs right now."

Something touched the dragon's expression as if it was actually embarrassed by what the frankly speaking man was saying to it. An expression that everyone watching saw and caused a bit of a murmur to pass through them.

"Add to that, we are human after all, right?"

This time the dragon's tilted it head at the man, smoke boiling out of the corners of its mouth as it spoke, "Well, are human..." it said as if not sure what was going on now. As it spoke it's eyes looked across the wall and back to the man.

"Yes. We are," replied the man, pride filling his words. "We are human and you know what that means? You destroy our castle...maybe kill a few of us in the process. We get angry. We come after you in larger numbers."

"Now you have to kill some more of us. Which leads to more of us coming to kill you. Maybe we will, maybe we wont but it wont stop there, right?"

"Eventually, we will kill you," he continued. "But now your kind have to do something about that, as well they should, right?" The dragon bobbed his head in agreement. "Now we have more of us all being drawn in to this little thing over some cave people that decided to take a few goats. Goats that are not theirs in the first place to boot!"

Sadly, "Now we have a war...a bad one. Your kind and my kind hell bent on a fight that neither of us actually started, right?"

"A Race War...the worst kind of war....and none of us want that, right?"


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nis42 t1_j6czcm9 wrote

Once upon a time, in a kingdom surrounded by high walls, a fearsome dragon descended from the skies in a rampage aimed at the castle keep. The king and his army were preparing to attack the dragon, but the dragon spoke up first.

"Release my human, and we will leave you all in peace," the dragon said. "Do not, and I will reduce your walls to rubble to rescue them myself."

The king was taken aback by the dragon's demand. He had never heard of a dragon speaking before, let alone making demands. The king thought for a moment and then said, "Why should we trust you? What do you want with this prisoner?"

The dragon let out a sigh, "I understand your hesitation, but my human is not just any human. She is my friend, and I will do whatever it takes to protect her. I assure you, once she is safe, we will leave your kingdom in peace."

The king thought about the dragon's words. His duty was to protect the kingdom and his people. Finally, he made his decision.

"Fine, we will release your friend to you. But you must swear to leave our kingdom in peace and never return," the king said.

The dragon nodded in agreement, and the king's men released their prisoner. The dragon and his friend flew away, and the kingdom was left in peace.

From that day on, the kingdom remembered the dragon's visit as a reminder that sometimes, even the most fearsome creatures have a softer side. And that even in the face of danger, compassion and understanding can lead to peaceful resolutions.