The Horde
This is where I keep all the pointless stories I have collected. My most recent aquisitions are at the top of the pile.
Prologue - Ancient Dragon Hatching
- Posted by Jacques Maquoddy on 02.04.2023 12:00 AM
Out on a sandy beach rests a dragon’s nest with one very large egg. But it’s dull and rough, calcified from winter’s elements. A buzz pulses from the egg, rippling to the nearby forest stirring the sleeping animals. Rabbits, deer, squirrels, birds, and hedgehogs scurry out, excited to meet the new addition. With each pulse, bright shimmering chromatic veining, webs itself all across the surface of the egg.
-- CRACK! FLOP! --
A patch of the egg shell breaks off with a furry purple claw reaching out, trembling. All the animals stare in awe, unmoving, until one brave hedgehog steps forward. The brave hedgehog grasps the furry claw with both of their tiny paws. With the support of the hedgehog the dragon pops the egg fully open, shell shards scattering everywhere. A blast of rainbow glitter explodes everywhere falling down revealing A LONG, MIGHTY, P-PURPLE ...FURRY? STRIPED?? DRAGON!
The dragon peered down at the hedgehog that is still holding on, and in a gravelly voice “brave little one. Many thanks.”
The hedgehog just smiles in response.
“Not much for words, but you are brave… I’ll call you ‘Brave’ if that is alright.”
The hedgehog stares deeply into the dragon’s slit cat eyes and squeaks, “as long as I can give you a name in return.”
“A fair reward for your support. Name away.”
The hedgehog grins and says, “Mulberry!”
The dragon stares blankly. “…a deal is a deal. Mulberry it is!”
Brave and Mulberry have never been seen apart since.
Music In The Woods
- Posted by Jacques Maquoddy on 02.04.2023 12:00 AM
Mulberry, the now one year old dragon of the east shore, runs along the beach splashing in the cool waves.
“Mulberry! Come hither” calls Brave, the hedgehog nanny. Mulberry leaps and bounds with feline finesse, landing with a slide - sand kicking up everywhere.
“What is the latest, Brave?”
“Well, there’s a gift in the forest the animals wanted to give you. Follow me.”
With Brave riding on the back of Mulberry, the two of them make their way into the forest. In a clearing, all the animals are gathered around with music playing.
Rabbits and squirrels playing on mushrooms as though they were drums. *DOOM-TAK*
Birds chirping in harmony *TOO-TA-LOO*
And deer with sea shells tied to their antlers clicking a melody *CLINK-CLACK*
Mulberry bounces to the tune, flames escaping between grinning teeth.
Brave shouts above the music and laughter, while holding up a mud pie with an unlit candle, ““Happy Birthday, Mulberry! Make a wish!”
Mulberry closes their eyes and breathes out a huge flame, lighting the candle.
Mulberry licks Brave in thanks, and the two of them dance the rest of their day away and long into the evening.
21st
- Posted by Nikki Rose on 04.09.2013 11:31 AM
The day retired, the moon cold,
a house warm with fire.
A distant roar, of laughter and cheer,
echoes through the night.
They say responsibility is a must, and, well, is our right.
So get a buddy for the party, drinks all around!
Then sit awhile and soon you'll find your meal on the ground.
After games been played and slumber nears,
trip your way past a few beers.
You'll come to find a need to be housed,
with a fire never doused.
The day retired, the moon cold,
your house still warm with fire.
Heart-Shaped Box
- Posted by m!d!ie!dti! on 02.28.2013 9:26 AM
Dreams are weird. One moment you'd swear your life is hanging on a tenuous thread - a dragon is about to bite your head off, but instead, you're holding your head in a satchel, protected behind your back. An instant later your eyes pop open, only to be stared back at by the red glow of random early morning digits. It's not time to get up yet. So back to sleep you go - as you fall, actually buying into your dream predicament, thinking of better ways to protect your head from that nasty winged beast. Weird.
Was I dreaming or not. I awoke with sweat beading on by brow and that damned, woolen glove on my left hand. I dare not pull it off. Not yet. It's black fibers singed from my last encounter. But I must have that box and I can think of no other way then diving back into my dream.
Okay, so what's going on here? I've asked myself this same question every time I wake up and even now as I fall back into my restless sleep. Last week was the worst of it, because that's when I found the glove.
My dream wasn't any more bizarre than usual that night (actually it was day in the dream). I was a professor in an old English boarding school. Everything was gray toned and - though I've come to the conclusion that I don't smell things in my dreams - musty. I'm not really sure I hear things either, but when I walked the halls, the boards under foot creaked. I discovered a small opening onto a narrow flight of steps leading up to a door. Each step acted as bass drum, echoing with a hallow thud. The walls seemed to be pressing in against me and somehow I ended up inside a closet - and I knew this small room was on the other side of the door I had just reached. To fit in this increasingly constrictive room I had to hunch over and leave my right arm pinned behind me. That's when I realized I was here to use the toilet, its bowl pushing into my calves from behind. But there was no way I could turn around, and the best I could manage was to lean towards a narrow sliver of light that delivered a welcomed stream of crisp, autumn air into this otherwise dark, stuffy closet. Losing my balance and falling forward towards the light, which I reasoned to be an arrow slit, my left arm was forced through in a futile attempt to break my fall. Ignoring the pain in my crumpled torso and crushed legs, I propped my chin up over my twisted left shoulder and looked out through the slit in the gray stone wall. There were children's umbrellas and woolen gloves strewn across the rocky foundation which buttressed the outer wall. One black glove was just out of finger reach. I used what little lower body mechanics I had left and thrust my self forward squeezing any centimeters or millimeters left to be squeezed of my arm out the slit. Got it!.
My eyes popped open. The alarm clock was starring back at me, 3:24 (I mentally added, AM). I lay in bed in almost the same position as my dream - my left arm wedged under my pillow and down between the headboard and the wall. And I could sense it. The warm, itchy, constriction of a glove on my left hand was a reality. Uncontorting and sitting up, I immediately pulled the glove off, but like vapor, it sublimated from the grasping fingers of my right hand. Certainly not. That just didn't happen.
How does one go back to sleep after that? I didn't even try.
(End of Part 1)
A Chant of Fairer Lands
- Posted by Creative Brainwaves of Majestic Undulations on 02.25.2013 8:54 PM
The wind was soft,
the land aloft,
and all that could be seen,
Was gentle and,
was peaceful and,
was rich and rolling green,
The Sun spread joy,
the moon was coy,
and contented were all,
So when the star,
came from afar,
they rejoiced at its fall,
A golden eye,
in darkening sky,
a glowing rock of red,
Never you fear,
the angel’s tear,
or so the people said,
And where it smote,
the people wrote,
a place of song and bliss,
They crowded ‘round,
the smoking ground,
then felt a fiery kiss,
A dragon’s fume!
this spells our doom!
its rage shall never tire!
It flew and breathed,
the land was wreathed,
in dancing deadly fire,
The years have worn,
the land’s reborn,
but all can see the scars,
Burned into hill,
lands ashen still,
the dragon from the stars
Odd Life Isn’t It?
- Posted by Jewely on 02.24.2013 4:28 PM
Hello everyone! Del’Gruf here, hosting Odd Life Isn’t It? Since it’s the season of love we are hosting our show this time with a date game. We have two beautiful big-boned dragons in the back hoping to find their soul mate --or at least dinner. I say that because if we have a match tonight, then the couple will go over to either’s house for a lovely dinner! Can we have our first contestant come on out? Hello there my good sir, what’s your name?
-G-Gary.
Odd name, well G-Gary I’m going to ask you some questions and the lovely ladies we have in the back can hear all your answers, so speak carefully. You ready for the first question?
-Uh
Great! What does your perfect evening like? Go on tell us. Is it roasting by the fires of a volcano? How about slumbering at the bottom of the ocean?
-Well I wouldn’t be able to do either of those.
Remember G-Gary, you are trying to impress the ladies. Never mind your evening, where do you live?
-At my mom’s
Work with me here, G-Gary! How about your favorite meal? What did you last eat?
-I had steak before I came.
There we go! Ding ding ding! Now that is something girls can dig their teeth into. Did you prepare it yourself? A girl loves a guy who can scavenge up a good meal.
-Well, yes I did actually.
Is that so? How long did it take you?
-About 20 minutes
20 minutes!? Man are you going to get a girl tonight! Now what kind of girl do you like?
-Well I do like big girls
Oh wow, our red light is blinking! You know what that means G-Gary? It means one of the girls in the back has chosen you! Looks like she liked your answer! Let’s have the lovely lady come on out! Everyone give a big round of applause for Singedra!
~Hi all! G-Gary you sounded so sweet and I can’t wait to have you for dinner! I’m sure you’ll add the extra flavor to my day that I have been missing.
Well ladies and gentlemen we are out of time. Join us next time when I interview the kids of an inter-racial couple —not the one we just got situated. Ha!— and how it’s hard for some of those little rascals to keep up with the others. This has been Odd Life Isn’t It? Goodbye everyone!!
Kiwi
- Posted by The Wingless Duck on 02.21.2013 8:09 AM
Once upon a time there was a dragon that would only eat Kiwis with Kiwis. Since neither food could fly well, it wasn't much of a challenge to catch and devour either. But the more the dragon ate, the less he was able to fly, and his fire began to take on a green tinge. The dragon was concerned and his friends all made fun of him. They'd fly circles around him while he struggled to get off the ground. There was one dragon who didn't make fun of him she said she like the green flames. But the shame and torment of not being able to fly were too much to handle, so he went to visit the oldest and the wisest dragon. This dragon was rarely awake, but the kiwi loving dragon caught him on a night with no moon, so the aged dragon was awake. The elder was afraid of the dark and couldn't sleep without his moon night light. The aged dragon said that if the kiwi loving dragon changed his diet and ate only honeysuckle and duck, then his ability to fly would return, and the flames would stop being green. What the kiwi loving dragon didn't know was that the green flames were far hotter than your ordinary blue flame, and they had the ability to melt all rocks into gold. The former kiwi loving dragon did as the wise one suggested, and though the ducks were harder to catch, everything returned to normal. There were 2 additional downsides to this new diet; his flames smelled pretty on nights with no moon, and the dragon who liked green flames was disappointed by the lack of pretty colored fire.
One Scale Short of a Tail
- Posted by Sir Elton Ulman on 02.12.2013 6:58 PM
Burt had a headache. And he could not for the life of him fathom why it hurt so freaking much. But the more he pondered on the subject, the more it hurt, so he quickly abandoned the idea of thinking altogether.
You might know Burt. Then again, chances are you haven't a clue who he is. Allow me to fill you in:
Burt was a dragon. But not just any dragon- Burt was Lester's less intimidating and overshadowed distantly-related cousin. In fact, if you asked Lester, he would probably deny any notion of relation. And then eat you. But who are we to argue?
The good news is, it is neither important nor expected that you know Burt, for his tale is rather brief and somewhat disheartening. You see, the headache he suffered became nothing short of chronic, so one day in a fit of insufferable rage, Burt headed down the mountainside to go pillage and burn the local villages.
However, due to the severity of his pains, Burt miscalculated the direction of the sun and soon found himself lost (a rather embarrassing ordeal for a dragon if you can imagine.) Where he expected to find a nice plump flock of sheep to sooth his malady, instead he found an encampment of 70th-level adventurers.
To this day, no one has ever seen or heard of Burt again. Out of some vague form of charity, Lester once wrote a post-card to Burt some years later, but took the lack of reply as Burt's inability to read or write.
The end.
Folly?
- Posted by Lebro Tehmann on 10.09.2011 9:45 PM
Lord Felstone rode his mount along the treacherous mountain pass, eyes sharp for any kind of movement. He knew his quarry was out there somewhere, but had thus far been unsuccessful in locating it. The founding of this trade route had at first been a boon—a shortcut through the mountains that shaved nearly two months off of what was normally a three-month trek. However, it was not three years after its establishment that the pass became the hunting ground of Fuirauth. A mighty drake of deepest red, Fuirauth was a terror of the skies whose prey saw naught but a flash of crimson scales before being incinerated by his fiery breath. And Lord Felstone was to slay this beast… yeah…
The contemplative knight snapped out of his musings at the sound of some crumbling rocks, higher up on the ridgeline. Suddenly, the figure of a man dressed in browns and grays appeared at Felstone’s side.
“No sign of the beast yet?” Felstone asked his guide.
“None, milord.” The man replied in his dour voice.
“Well then, alert the rest of the party—we’ll form up in the next valley”
The guide slunk away, and Felstone nudged his steed to a canter. The dragon was out there, he knew it—he only hoped the dragon wasn’t already waiting for him…
---
High on a mountain peek, a pair of reptilian eyes narrowed as they watched the scattered creatures far below form up again. They must have been searching for something, and when they couldn’t find it, grouped back up for protection.
“How odd,” thought the mind behind those empty eyes, “why would they spread out to search when clearly they’re strongest together? Did they want to find their target while alone and unsupported?”
The eyes closed and their head shook. These creatures didn’t make any sense, but that was neither here nor there. The eyes opened again and just beneath them, the crocodilian maw cracked into a wicked toothy grin. It was time.
The great beast spread its wings and took to the air; higher and higher it flew until it was just a speck in the sun. Then, it turned its gaze downward, and upon finding its target, the dragon dove straight down, slowly at first, and then faster and faster, until it was like a giant crimson comet, hurtling towards the earth.
---
“BOOM!!”
The explosion of earth and rock knocked Lord Felstone clean off his horse, and the deafening crash left his ears ringing. Before he could even gather his thoughts, the knight’s whole world was bathed in fire, as though a volcano had just erupted from the place of the explosion. Screams of terror and pain were drowned out by the roaring of the conflagration, and Felstone saw as his horse, a noble steed of the purest breed, was incinerated almost instantly.
Tears of fury filled his eyes, as the knight rose to his feet. Staring through the flames and burning debris, Felstone spotted a giant shape looming in the smoke. With a defiant cry, the knight drew his sword and charged into the very mouth of hell…
Road to Elkdon
- Posted by Dark Apex of Creative Synapses on 10.09.2011 4:22 AM
Clasping his polished mandolin with perfect posture, Roth took a deep breath and began to sing. With unwavering fingers and unparalleled vigor he played a song so sweet and pure, not even an elder dragon could resist the soothing touch of its tender melody… at least, thats how he would retell the story years later. In actuality, Roth had never feared death so greatly, or shook so violently, as when he did on that dark summer's day.
Back in those times, news traveled rather quickly between the merchants that traversed the long and monotonous west-bound road to Elkdon. Talk of "trouble" had gradually been swelling up in different regions over the last several weeks, but judging any given set of information's legitimacy by its frequency or consistency was fool's folly. Because this news had come from the all too reliable source of caravan gossip, anyone with brains knew to take it with a grain of salt… but took precautions nonetheless. The route was well populated and generally safe during the throes of blueberry season, but the torment of the sun had a history of being rather unforgiving. Its no surprise that through a combination of heatstroke and boredom, bad rumors start to arise.
It was under these conditions that Roth, a nomadic self-taught minstrel, caught word of immanent dangers just nine days travel outside Elkdon. He had been entertaining some fellow travelers in exchange for a meal and simple company, but ended up getting much more than he bargained for. The band of travelers spoke of a darkness, a strange and uncanny veil of clouds that blotted out the rays of July. What struck him as odd was that precipitation was quite rare in these lands. In fact, it hadn't rained in over six months. Moreover, this storm didn't seem to follow any pattern, any rhyme, any reason, and could disappear and re-manifest miles away in a matter of hours. From slow, methodical looming, to lightning quick discord, this anomaly was completely unpredictable. The worst part was; if you found yourself caught in the middle of it, chances are you wouldn't see the light of day ever again.
Roth had never been a very sound sleeper, and that night he was plagued with incessant nightmares. He had fashioned a slapdash cot between two trees from bits of old canvas and nails, but despite his attempts at shelter the night air brought a foreign chill upon his skin. In a cold sweat Roth awoke to a deep rumbling. Was that thunder…? Surely not. His senses were still corrupt from his childish nighttime delusions. Forcing himself to steady his breathing, Roth gave pause and listened to the infinite symphony of crickets. Their chatter penetrated the night like a rowdy chorus of children. Yet it soothed him. It was rehearsed disorder. It was raw, natural beauty. Roth almost began to cry. Within a handful of minutes, the musician had almost forgotten he was even awake… until he heard it again. That was definitely thunder.
The next morning it was obvious Roth had not merely dreamt up the whole scenario. Just beyond the horizon, an ominous storm cloud poked its fluffy head over the northern landscape. Its deep shades of black and violet presented a stark contrast against the soft morning light. He didn't like the look of it at all. Roth pressed on, determined to beat the bizarre weather to some agreeable form of shelter. The breeze had picked up and the temperature seemed as though it hadn't had a decent night's sleep either. Closer and closer the storm cloud drew, despite Roth's best attempts to outrun it. By the late afternoon, its shadow had fallen upon him. The once subtle undulating of the wind had now escalated to a powerful pulse, and the chill in the air had dropped to an unnaturally low level. The once distant thunderous ruckus, boomed from straight above accompanied by flashes of bright indigo.
Unable to make any progress on the road, Roth dove for cover. His options were pretty slim, leaving him only different clusters of rocks to choose from amongst an endless open plains. This was the problem with Skirtlands; it all looked the same. Lodging himself against an oblong boulder with a slight overhang, Roth shielded himself from the aggressive weather. He hoped this omen would not keep up for long, as his face and ears had already began to go numb.
Suddenly, the sky lit to a blinding, pervasive luminance. Unlike previous flashes, it remained, and Roth was unable to open his eyes for some time. A loud crack and a slight sizzling swiftly followed the light show, and the air itself seemed to hold a static which raised the hairs on Roth's arms. With not much else to do, Roth attempted to retreat deeper into the crevice he had come to call home, but was mostly unsuccessful. Unable to hear his own thoughts through the chaos that surrounded him, Roth was at the full mercy of the elements. Now he cried.
It was then that the noise, the wind, and the light, all ceased. For a moment Roth thought he had died… he was always being so melodramatic. Against his better judgement, Roth slowly opened his eyes. In the distance he could still see a swirling mass of clouds, moving rapidly and intently, but the air close-by remained still and quiet. Peering around the boulder, he saw that the storm had completely enclosed him within a mile-wide pocket of calm. This was the eye of the storm. But sadly the beauty of the weather was lost on him, for it wasn't the weather that commanded his attention any longer. It was the three-hundred foot dragon.
A Dragon Tail
- Posted by The Gruesome Duo on 10.07.2011 11:43 PM
I may not be the world’s biggest dragon, but my tail is eleven miles long. Due to the necessities imposed on me by my surroundings, it curves 318 times in that eleven miles. There are actually people who come from far and wide just to experience my tail. How would you like to have hundreds of people every year running up and down your tail? If you decide to ride my tail, just be careful that you don’t fall off. Ride me if you dare!
Seafoam, A Dragon Story
- Posted by Seera Gahere Shamor on 10.07.2011 11:10 AM
All rights reserved to the author
Cari Thorn Wave sat with her husband, Wredan Peak Wave, on the
gold-plated floor of their kitchen and watched their egg as it rocked
violently back and forth. Their daughter, Scaji Pine Wave, stuck her
head out over the egg, snaking her neck this way and that to try to
glimpse the egg tooth that should emerge any minute now.
"How long should this *take*? You said I only took three minutes before
you could see my tooth."
Cari looked up at her husband and saw that his sharp blue ears were
pricked forward, trying hard to catch the sounds of a tooth scratching
against the inner wall of the egg. He nodded slowly.
"Three minutes, yes."
Cari remembered it well. Scaji being their first child, she had watched
the clock the whole time. Wredan had been calmer, but it seemed he was
making up for it now.
They had both been calm for months as she sat by this egg, chanting epic
tales to it. Everyone admired this egg. It was a beautiful light
greenish blue, with the red splotch on top to show it held a boy. She
had laid the egg after visiting the seashore, and the color reminded her
of the waves. The past week was spent preparing for the hatching, Scaji
growing more excited by the hour about becoming a big sister. By
yesterday, her razor scales had seemed to throb with anticipation. Now
the hatching was here.
The rocking grew more violent, and smashed into Sari’s outstretched
beak, causing a small crack to appear on the egg’s surface. Scaji
snapped her neck back, and shook her head to try and remove the sting.
Cari cast an admonishing glance at her daughter, but quickly looked back
at her egg. She had never seen rocking this violent, and she had never
heard of the egg beginning to roll on its side, as it was doing now.
Perhaps her baby had flipped himself inside the egg, and was trying to
right the egg so his tooth would be on top?
Wredan’s tail curved around her comfortingly. "Ten minutes, now," he
whispered into her ear. Surely something was wrong.
Her egg was on its side now, rolling back and forth over the crack in
its side. Splinter cracks appeared and widened. Pieces of the shell were
coming off. Suddenly she caught a glimpse of the color of her son, but
little else. He matched the outside of his egg, a sea-foam green against
the black inner lining of the egg and the newly-shined golden floor. He
was curled up, his whole body trembling to create the rocking.
Suddenly he thrust out all his limbs, shattering the remaining egg.
Scaji jumped back against the wall to avoid the shower of eggshell.
Beside Cari, Wredan’s whole body tensed as he saw his son.
He was...round. Blunt. All his scales had circular edges, and his tail
ended gently, unlike the tapered tail sported by the rest of the family.
His horn stubs were soft, as was normal for a newly hatched babe, but
his mouth more resembled a duck bill than a raptor's hooked beak.
“He doesn’t have an egg tooth,” breathed Wredan. His voice strengthened
as he figured out what his son had accomplished. “He couldn’t crack the
egg without a tooth, so he had to figure out another way out. If he’s
this smart now, think of what he’ll accomplish in two hundred years.”
From the far side of the room, Scaji shook her head. “All he did was rock.”
Cari reached out and drew her still-wet son to her body. Her husband
snaked his neck down to where her front claws held the baby as she began
to wipe off the egg fluids.
"Life will be hard for you," Wredan whispered. "But we'll protect you,
and you'll show the world that a dragon is more than his body." Cari set
her baby at her feet as Wredan lifted his head up to the ceiling. She
helped the newborn sit up as her husband began the traditional trumpet
the neighbors would all be waiting for.
"Toct Seafoam Wave has entered the world!" Wredan's voice rang out. "And
his family has welcomed him!"
Sitting on Cari's feet, Travis entered into a joyful howl of agreement.
Across the room, Scaji was shaking her head in wonder.
"Who would have thought it possible -- A pointless dragon!"
Jacaranda
- Posted by Chickadee Magnolia on 10.06.2011 11:15 PM
Everyone is upset because David won’t stop burping, Andrew won’t stop telling dumb jokes, and Mikey won’t stop doing his Woody Woodpecker impression. Kerry is the only one who is behaving, but sitting in the corner at his computer could hardly be considered helping. Or at least their parents would be upset, but they already left for dinner, leaving the boys in charge of watching Jessica. As if they know how to take care of a baby dragon. Just because she’s lived with them for the past year and a half, doesn’t mean they know what to do. Kerry walks over to Jessica’s cradle thinking, It must be kind of like tending a farm in AoE; mostly you leave it alone, but you check on it once in a while. He peers into an apparently empty cradle. “Uh, guys, we have a problem.”
The boys fly out of their tree house in a hurry. “I thought, you were, watching, her,” shouts David over the beating wings, punctuating every two syllables with progressively louder burps. “I was obviously busy, unlike the rest of you,” retorts Kerry. Andrew says, “What do you get when you cross a bear and a horse?” and, not waiting for a reply, bursts out, “A borse! Get it? Bear, horse. Borse.” Mikey laughs incessantly. They fly through the forest, spreading out to cover more cubic space. Mikey and Andrew fly under the green canopy and David flies just above, Kerry flies high above that using his 20/15 vision to scour far and wide.
“What do you get when you cross a baby dragon with a tree,” asks Andrew when they gather to rest two hours later. He seems genuinely interested, but when nobody answers he says, “I don’t know, we when by so fast, I couldn’t tell.” Before Kerry can do him bodily harm, the dragons are off again in the opposite direction with Andrew on point. David flies backwards because he doesn’t feel like turning around. Eventually, they come to a jacaranda tree with a purple blemish on the largest branch. Mikey heads straight towards it, “I got her!” The purple spot gives an eek of surprise and reaches out with all four claws and leans back a little too far and tumbles off the back of the branch. David and Kerry both lunge for the falling dragon and Kerry tripped over David’s nose (him being backwards and all). They crash to the ground. “What happens when you cross two dragons in mid-flight?” asks Andrew, but thinks better of it and doesn’t give the answer.
“Now, look what you’ve done!” shouts Kerry. “I almost had her,” says Mikey in his defense. They are standing around peering in the groundhog hole that Jessica fell into. “Well,” says David, “I am so big and grand there is no way I’d fit in there; Mikey will have to go; he dropped her” “Did not!” shouts Mikey. “It’s a freaking groundhog hole,” says Kerry, “None of us will fit.” “Well,” says David, “I’ll fit least, and it’s not my problem that you guys are trying to be like me.” “What happens,” asks Andrew, “If you cross dragon fire with one end of a two-ended tunnel?” “NO!” shout the rest of the dragons. “You two stay here,” instructs Kerry, “David and I will find the other end of the tunnel and sit on it. She has to come out of one of the ends eventually.” “Kudos,” says Mikey, “She’ll have to come out our end if your butts are covering the other hole.”
The other hole ends up being fourteen and a half feet away from the first hole. Kerry and David set up a game of Magic, and Andrew continues to tell jokes to Mikey, who practices various laughs. After losing three games in a row, David storms over to the first hole, “Switch with me, Mikey.” “What do you get when you cross a mountain climber with a mosquito?” Andrew asks him, “Nothing! You can’t cross a scalar with a vector.” “On second thought, Andrew, you switch with me.”
David is just beating Mikey at Magic for the eighth time, when a violet head emerges from the ground. “There you are,” says Mikey and he grabs for her. Jessica coos and sinks back into the hole. “Don’t reach for her, you’ll scare her” says David, “You have to whack her when she’s not looking, then she won’t know what hit her.” Kerry comes rushing over followed by Andrew. “What do you get when you cross a parrot and a centipede? A walkie-talkie!”
“Everything I do you say is wrong,” Mikey shouts at David. David burps in agreement. “I’m going home!” Mikey storms off. “Wait,” says David, “Can you put these Magic cards away for me? Remember the white ones go in the black case and the black ones go in the silver case.” Kerry chases after them, “Uh, guys, are you forgetting that we haven’t gotten Jessica yet?” Andrew follows, “What do you get when you cross an insomniac, an agnostic, and a dyslexic?” Jessica sticks her head up out of the hole to see what’s going on. She crawls over in time to hear the end of Andrew’s joke, “Someone who stays up all night wondering if there really is a Dog!”
Mikey sees Jessica and it seems to cheer him. He takes a step towards her, but she shies back. “Wait a minute,” says Kerry, “Okay, let’s all go back now.” “But dude,” whispers David she’s right here, we could nab her.” Kerry ignores him, “Let’s all go back and leave Jessica out here. It’s getting dark now and we want to get inside before the werewolves come out.” The boys hesitantly follow Kerry toward the tree house. Andrew asks, “What happens when you cross four angry parents and four boys?” “I don’t even want to know,” moans Mikey.
As they walk, the boys notice that baby Jessica is following them. And when they get back to the tree house Jessica tries to fly up after them. She tries and tries, but just gets more and more tired and frustrated. Finally, the boys stand on top of each other and form a ladder for Jessica to climb. “Come on,” coxes Mikey. Jessica hesitantly climbs up David’s back, then Kerry’s, then Andrew’s, and then Mikey’s all the way up to the tree house. The boys fly up and cheer for Jessica, who grins. They all eat pizza and make funny faces at each other, until they laugh so hard their stomachs ache. And baby Jessica falls fast asleep just moments before their parents return. “See,” says Lester, Jessica’s dad, “That wasn’t so hard.”
The end
A Quest
- Posted by fairylore on 10.05.2011 11:52 PM
Once upon a time, Delia set out to seek her fortune. She traveled a long way, over mountains, past farmland, across a small inland sea. Just when she was starting to get hungry, she came across a beautiful lake with a sandy beach that looked perfect for sunbathing, so she decided to stop for a drink and some lunch. She had just polished off a few nice roasts when she noticed a crowd of ants desperately scurrying over to salvage the meat drippings. Feeling sorry for them, she reached out and snagged an abandoned picnic basket and emptied the food onto the ground for the ants to find.
After a short nap and a long drink, Delia continued on her way, keeping an eye out for her fortune. That afternoon, she saw instead a fox darting in and out of a hedgerow. Following its path backwards, she saw a pack of hunters and horses galloping towards the desperate creature. To even the odds, Delia bowled over 4 of the five riders. As she headed out, she saw that the fifth horse was now galloping in the wrong direction. Now that only one hunter remained to combat the fox, he appeared to have thought better of the pursuit. Satisfied, Delia waved to the panting fox as he fell out of sight behind her.
Travelling onward, Delia passed through the teeth of a fierce winter storm, full of rain and sleet and blistering winds. Determined to make it through before she stopped for the night, Delia at last came to the edge of the storm. When she paused to get her bearings, a small shivering bundle of wool caught her attention. A young boy was huddled in the lee of a small rocky outcropping, struggling vainly to stay warm, and to start a fire from rain–soaked logs. Taking pity on the child, Delia decided to stop and help. In no time she had lit a bonfire to protect him from the cold, and his look of wonderment and gratitude warmed her as she continued on her quest.
At last Delia arrived at the home of a powerful sorcerer, and knocking at the door, she offered to work for lodging. The sorcerer agreed to take her into his service. In the morning he told her what her first task would be. “You must sort the rice from the wheat today” he said. “If I find any grain in the wrong pile when I return, you will forfeit your life.” Poor Delia wracked her brains for a strategy, but she could not even see the small grains clearly. But then she saw that two piles had already begun forming. Looking closer, she found that the ants had begun one by one to move the rice and wheat to separate piles. Curiously, as the piles of grain grew, a small third pile appeared, glittering with gold. “I wonder where this grain was stored” Delia muttered to herself as she scooped this third pile up. When the sorcerer returned, his face grew grave, but he merely thanked Delia for her work, and retired for the night.
The next morning, he had a new task for Delia. “I had an embroidered red sash which the wind took from me one day, and I was not able to recover it. You must find it for me today, or lose your life.” Delia cast about outside the sorcerer’s home, but no where could she see a red sash. However, a fox had been listening to her master through the window that morning, and he knew the ways of the rats that burrowed nearby, and how they loved to collect pretty things. The fox searched for the scent of the sorcerer, and dug up a cache of buttons and ribbons and one red sash. This he carried over to Delia, and she gratefully accepted it. She also noted the golden chains which, entangled in the sash, dragged behind the fox. “Where does that rat warren lead” she mused to herself, as she gathered up the chains. When she presented the sash to the sorcerer he frowned, and curtly bid her goodnight.
On the third morning, the sorcerer, grinning wickedly, announced “Your third task is a simple one. Muck out my stable. Fail and you shall be slain. Succeed and you may leave my service with my blessing” he said, gloating. Simple indeed, thought Delia, peering inside the filthy stable. To be sure, the chore looked straight forward enough, but she could never fit into those stalls, or hold the pitchfork. Just then she heard a hesitant cough. Turning, she saw a young boy, diffidently holding a pitchfork. Grinning with delight, she moved away from the door to let him pass. With a startled look at her smile, the boy scuttled inside and set to work with a will. To his dismay, the boy discovered that the stall he worked at was filthier than when he had begun! In fact, each time he tossed out a clump of soiled straw, three more clumps appeared in the stall in its place. At a loss for what to try next, he and Delia considered the stable floor with frustration. At last Delia remembered a story she had heard about a similar stable. Excitedly, she suggested that he try mucking with the handle. A look of dawning recognition on his face, he turned the pitchfork wrong way around. At the first toss, the stall became as clean as if it had been scrubbed. Gleefully, he raced down the broad aisle, cleaning stall after stall with ease. Delia sauntered after him, relieved that this last task had indeed been a simple, and pondering where she ought to go next to seek her fortune. The last stall was a large loose box at the end of the stable. When this was cleared, Delia turned to leave, but a gasp of astonishment drew her back. The child had discovered a hidden door under the straw, and a gleam of gold shone from a hidden cavern when he pulled it open. “Ah!” thought Delia. “There’s my fortune.” And, having completed her service to the sorcerer, she gathered up her hoard of gold and silver and gems, and returned with them to her lair, resolving to keep a sharp eye out for thieves in the future.
Poor Dragon
- Posted by Amber Hawk on 10.05.2011 9:35 AM
After many, many weeks of constant drenching rains and stormy dark skies, the sun was finally shining. The crystal blue sky almost sparkled as the white puffy clouds floated lazily by. There was a gentle breeze stirring the leaves on the trees a perfectly beautiful day. It was a day that hadn’t been seen by man nor beast in such a long time. All the creatures of the land were up and about, forging, hunting and enjoying the bright warm sun. Then all of a sudden a hush fell over a small clearing in the valley, the ground rumbled like an earthquake and a large dragon came lumbering out its cave. It stretched its neck way up high; the green scales reflecting the sun’s glow like thousands of prisms. It swooshed its colossal tail back and forth in the dewy grass cleaning off weeks of dirt and mud. Then it unfurled a massive set of leathery wings. The dragon was certain that within the blink of an eye it would be taking flight, soaring high above the land below. It had been so long since it had felt the sun on its scales, had passed over the land letting it’s shadow dance across tree tops and valleys. Alas, all the endless weeks of rain had made the great dragons wings shriveled like a prune. The great beast let out a sorrowful roar and plopped itself down in the sun to dry out.
The Dragon and the Squirrel
- Posted by Patrick Briley on 10.04.2011 6:05 PM
Once upon a time a dragon was enamored of a flying squirrel. The little dragon would scurry around through the tall grasses and ferns only to e overcome with a sudden chill when the shadow of the flying squirrel glided over it. He would stare up at the sky with such longing, wishing to be ale to perform such graceful and acrobatic tricks, alas he was only a little land locked dragon. One morning he summoned the courage to climb up by his claws to a low lying branch. With one glance over the edge, vertigo began to kick in. As the little dragon tried to get his breath back there was a tapping on his scaly shoulder which resounded with a hollow tinny sound. It was the very same flying squirrel which the little dragon had been admiring all this time. She said to him, "I know that it's a little scary sometimes. You jump and that sense of falling into nothing hits you square in the gut. But it gets better, and I believe you can do it. What's meant to e will happen, and you look like a flyer to me." The little dragon stopped looking down and glanced up at the sky. As he jumped, there was an extra set of paws, giving him a helpful nudge. He felt weightless in midair for a second, until the vertigo slammed him in the stomach. At that moment the ramifications and doubts all rushed up from the ground to overwhelm the mind in addition to the stomach. But he took a deep breath, pictured the flying squirrel gliding through the air, and let it all out. That was when he realized that he really wasn't falling that fast. In fact his light body was just gently descending to the forest floor. There he landed on a red mushroom with a light "oomph". Next the flying squirrel leapt off the branch and gracefully swirled to the ground. She looked at the stunned little dragon and said, "I knew you were a flyer."
Dragon Update on Ella the Time Traveler
- Posted by Mac ’N Cheese Nana on 10.04.2011 4:29 PM
Hi, Ella here again –
The Spring semester of Dragon Correspondent School was very exciting! I visited countries all over the dragon world as I’m learn how to cover events. I went to the Dragon Olympics, where contestants competed Flame Throwing, Tail Thumping, Roaring Bellows, both with and without the attendant flames, -just to name a few. Also a couple of minor political doings, - election of the Dragon Queen, famous dragon weddings, and one minor dragon-uprising. I got just a little bit tired of all the traveling, tho.
So, I decided to ditch summer school and take a break in the Human Kingdom of Lebanon for the summer, to check out what was going on there.
I wound up staying at the Edgewood Cavern as usual, and settled comfortably back into my favorite cave, - which now sadly also happens to be inhabited by one grouchy groundhog named Edyee. I generously allowed him to stay. – a real mistake. Soon, I was wanting to chase him out. He snored loudly and this really bothered me. I hardly slept some nights because of his noisy rumbling!
I did ask him nicely to please go to another part of the cave, reasoning that here were a lot of small connecting cave-rooms, one of which should do him nicely. But he stubbornly refused. I think he was still sore at me for practicing my tail-thumping skills outside close to his feeding grounds. My awesome tail-thumping causes vibrations beneath the surface of the ground, and the grub worms - his favorite food, - head far dawn into the ground and he can’t get at them!
Old Eddye turned out to be the appointed snitch who is to report any bad behavior on my part when I’m spending time here in the Human Kingdom of Lebanon. This is part of an agreement amongst my Mom, and the all-knowing Witch Hag Neelda. I’m not allowed to kick old Eddy out, dag-nab it!
I did have a lot of fun over the summer, for the most part. I occasionally caused a stir among the townsfolk. Once I started a fire – which was blamed on those poor human kids shooting fireworks on the Fourth of July. Another time I rode down the already sagging fences, and let the horses out to roam around in the neighborhood streets at midnight. A dragon was never a suspect in the shenanigans when they were reported by the newspapers.
Some of my Dragon cousins visited last summer. By day, we feasted on the thousands of locusts that came out of the earth, and by night we explored the vast cavern network that runs underneath the city. One night we spelunked all of the way into the Square, and came up inside a donut shop. We filled ourselves with sweets, got sick, threw up all over the place, and managed to get out before the owner came in the next day! It was all in the papers about the vandals who mysteriously got into the Donut Shop. Our entrance from the caverns into the shop is well camouflaged. We giggled when we read the news in the Lebanon Democrat. Old Eddye would really have an earful for my Mom if he had any idea it was us. And I would be in serious trouble. Even when we tracked in donut powder, he didn’t have a clue! Hee-Hee! Onie read about it in the paper and brought it over to me. She just handed it to me and grinned. I knew our secret was safe with her. : )
I’ve come back to the Kingdom of Lebanon for a brief two-week Fall Break, which begins on Monday. The human children are out of school, and will be running around all over the place!
A beautiful human girl-child in the Kingdom of Woodbine will be having her Sweet Sixteenth Birthday in a few days!
Sending best wishes and Huge Dragon Hugs!
Ella, the Time Traveler
Scorched Sixteen
- Posted by Norbert on 10.03.2011 10:54 PM
It was Lester’s sixteenth birthday, arguably the most important birthday for dragons, if you don’t count 18, or 21, or 111… but anyways, Lester was going all out.
He didn’t just want it to be his biggest birthday party, he wanted it to be the biggest birthday ever, in the entire world! Even bigger than all those sweet sixteens those girls have on MTV.
So Lester started planning. It would be in a giant dance hall (big enough to fit 500 dragons, with wings outstretched), there would be tons of food (mostly bunnies, Lester’s favorite, and cheese), decorative streamers, and Hannah Montana themed napkins, plates, and cups (they were on sale at Party City, don’t judge). Lester invited all of his friends, even those friends that he sort of liked, but didn’t really like all that much. He even invited that creepy old dragon that lived down the street, and a couple of humans from down in the village (as entertainment).
The day of Lester’s birthday arrived. He got all dressed up, painting his talons and putting glitter on his scales. He even waxed his moustache! Finally, it was 8:00, and Lester was ready to go to his party.
Lester, like all dragons, can fly. But who flies to their own party? Not Lester, of course. Lester had a team of 100 golden penguins carry him into the dance hall, where all his friends stood with their jaws dropped. Never had they seen Lester looking so elegant, and penguins looking so golden.
Then the music started pumping. Lester’s favorite band “Human Screams” was playing. Everyone was groovin.
The cake was carried out by flying monkeys, and it was shaped just like Lester’s face. He loved it. But he didn’t love that everyone was willing to eat a piece of his gorgeous face. How rude!
Then, it was time for presents. This was the moment Lester was really waiting for. He had asked his parents for a car. All the cool dragons get cars when they turn sixteen, and Lester wanted his to be the coolest. He spent an hour opening lame gifts from his lame friends, waiting eagerly for his car. The crowd fell silent, as an engine could be heard at the back of the dance hall. Everyone turned to look at Lester’s new car, a bright, shiny, new Smart Car.
Lester was horrified. “A Smart Car?” he thought. “Who in the right mind would drive that around? What do I look like, a hippy? Or worse, one of those European dragons with their speedos and small cars?” Lester walked slowly towards the car. He tried to act pleased, but the expression on his face was far from it. He slowly opened the door, and squeezed himself into the car.
“Uh oh,” said Lester from inside the car. He was stuck, very stuck. There was no way he was going to get out of this car and leave it in one piece. He struggled to get out, but to no avail. Someone in the silent crowd started to chuckle. And then the laughter spread like wildfire. A little known fact about dragons: when they start laughing, the shoot fire. And lots of it. Soon the room was ablaze, as 500 dragons laughed fire at poor Lester, stuck in his tiny Smart Car while his Sweet Sixteen was up in flames.
Lester’s dad turned to his mom, who was holding back the giggles herself, and said, “You were right. We should’ve bought him the Hummer.”
Vire Dragon
- Posted by Morter on 10.03.2011 10:45 AM
I ave a tuffy noze
No tep n my toze
Da vire n my belly
Az no where to goze
No, zeriouzly.
If I dond breath dis out zoon,
My belly iz gonna ezplode.
Boilin pot ov wader
Gloth over my ead
Mizd villz up my glogged nozdrul
I wizh I were dead
Did you ear dat?
Zuzh, I zwore I eard zomedin out dare. . .
Nobe, muz ave been earin dinz.
It didn’t end well for the fire dragon with a cold. The cavalier swung his mighty sword and cut off the beast’s shrouded head. It got its wish, anyway.
Of course the fire that was plugged up, burst forth like a genie being released from two thousand years of imprisonment. The “granted wish” fried the startled knight in what I call his final blaze of glory.
Who am I, the knight’s squire, and the one who now knows, vire dragons are deadly in life and in death. And their poetry zuckz.
A Sonnet
- Posted by Nomdei Plum on 10.02.2011 9:24 AM
A dragon stood alone on sandy shores
And dreamed alon of times more sorely missed
A stretch of wing a sunlit talon kissed
A tip, a tail, a nod dislodged the lore
For in those times of waiting long before
Supreme commanders, lords in waiting lie
For all those hearing, ladies do belie
And wait for lovers chilling to the core
In icy winds aloft whose children bore
Their games of gale and hurricane and gust
And froze them in their compromising lust
The nobels’ pride all rent in blood in gore
As swooping dragons mates who flight adores
Watched and preened above and breathed all flame
That humankind would die in pain and shame
Delighting dragonkind not all but four
Of Black and Bronze scales tinkling ‘yond the door
Of Blue and Green breath acid scarring lung
And fire above below and all among
The houses walls and ceilings beams and floors
Its reminiscing mind drifts back in time
Its kind all gone but last draconic rime
Pointless Dragon Tales
- Posted by Pedal Feather on 09.30.2011 10:57 PM
A lovely young maiden woke up. Where was she in what was the terrible pain on her forehead? And even more pointed, who was she? She couldn't remember anything! She put her hand on her forehead. Ouch! It seemed to be swollen and puffy not like the rest of her face. She heard a stream running close by and decided to make her way over to the water where she found a quiet pool so that she could see the reflection of her face. There was a big swelling and bruising which probably explained why she couldn't remember anything.
As she looked into the water she saw a gigantic salamander. At first she thought it was a Dragon. It had orange slimy skin and appeared to have a big smile on its mouth and she was not the least bit afraid of it. She gently put her hand in the water and slowly touched the giant. There was a faint vibration of its skin and it seemed to be trying to communicate to her. What was this Dragon trying to say?
The Dragon directed her downstream. She followed along and whenever the water would be shallow enough she would lay her hands on its back and somehow be reassured that everything would be all right. She was hungry and vibration from the dragon’s back seem to indicate that there was food nearby. There were some crazy things swimming around in the water and the dragon seemed to be in enjoying them so she gave them a try and found them quite delicious.
The Dragon led her to a rocky bank where she noticed the beautiful colors of the shiny boulders. The blue-green color of one of the rocks seemed to trigger a memory and she looked down on her wrist saw a bracelet with a blue-green rock. She was remembering it was her 16th birthday and the color reminded her of a giant balloon. That was it. She had been on a balloon ride it somehow must've fallen out.
The vibration of the dragon's back reminded her to look more closely at her bracelet. There was a brown rock, the color of her father's hair. Things were beginning to start to make sense for her. Her dad had taken her for a wonderful balloon ride for her 16th birthday while celebrating with her family. Somehow she had fallen out of the gondola and was lost. She should be frightened but somehow the soothing sound of the water and the smooth skin of the vibrating salamander calmed her nerves. She knew everything would be all right.
The giant dragon-like creature took her further downstream where another blue river rock reminded her of the one on her bracelet and helped her to remember the pretty blue sky at the site of the balloon launch. She knew where she was now and if she continued to follow the Dragon downstream she would be in familiar territory. She could almost see her brothers and the rest of the family waiting for her at the edge of the national park in China.
She looked across the valley and now she could see the launch site of the balloon. So she hurriedly made her way in that direction realizing that the wind was in her face and knowing that this is the direction that the balloon would have taken. She stooped at the water's edge to pet the giant salamander for the last time. She wanted to thank him for his help. And as she did the silver ornament on her bracelet suddenly changed to a Dragon. Was it the electric vibrations of the salamander that changed her bracelet? Only the salamander and energies from another world would know!!
The Legend of Lake Quicksilver
- Posted by Out of Town on 09.27.2011 5:47 PM
There is a legend told in the Hunan Province of China of a remote mountain lake fed by mineral laden glacial waters that, when the blue moon rises and strikes the lake at exactly the right angle the luminescence interacts with the milky water to turn any unsuspecting creature who dares to stare directly into the full brightness, into a statue of silver. That this story is true is evidenced by the many animal shaped boulders surrounding the lake that are blackened by years of tarnish though exposure to the elements.
One evening in the mountainous area surrounding Lake Quicksilver, young dragon, Werdan, is awakened from sleep by the rustling of the night breezes beckoning him into the night. They seemed to be murmuring in his ear, “Don’t believe them. It is not true. The legend is a lie. Come see for yourself.”
The night hung black as pitch and mist shrouded the hills surrounding the lake. Werdan slowly made his way through the shaggy, moss covered canopy of trees to the edge of the lake. Being thirsty he bent over to take a long drink. Filling his belly he looked up. At precisely that moment an enormous blue moon emerged from behind the misty mountain. Silvery beams flooded the sky and were cast across the placid, milky, mineral laden lake and surrounded him in an instant. Then it happened. He felt his body stiffen as he became encased forever in a silvery cocoon as rigid as the blue-green mountain glaciers.
When the young dragon didn’t return to his lair the next day his family became concerned and began searching for him. With trepidation they searched the mossy forests and caves, then proceeded to the lake. Trepidation turned to fear as they remembered the legend and noticed the five-toed footprints of the young dragon in the soft mud around the lake. The footprints ended at a beautiful, silvery, glistening boulder where Werdan had stopped to drink. Yes, it was true. Quicksilver had captured another creature and gloom filled their hearts.
Stricken with grief, the family rushed to consult with Yerrik, the wisest of all in Dragondom. “You must break the spell,” he said, “by sending your bravest emissary to the four corners of the earth where they must pluck out a magic stone from each of the four pillars of creation. It is a dangerous mission and fraught with peril but that alone will break the spell and free the captive creatures.”
“But my parents are too old,” cried Werdan’s twin sister, Pandora, as tears streamed from her big, round eyes onto her beautiful, feathered chest. “And I am too young. How can I find the stones and who can help me?” she wondered between body wrenching sobs.
Then a calming stillness enveloped her body as her mind became clear. She raised her head high, gave a thunderous cry, beat her great wings and lifted her supple, graceful body into the air. “I will do it,” she said with great determination. “I can find the stones, break the spell and free my brother.”
And thus her journey begins.
Semi-true Henry Story
- Posted by Hammer Scale on 10.08.2010 10:11 AM
One day Henry, the person, was practicing his dance moves. He was just starting to “Pop and Lock” when a well meaning, but scary dragon appeared in his room.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” asked Henry the person.
“I am Henry the dragon. I am lonely. I want a friend.” said the muddy, green dragon.
“Well, you can’t touch this,” said Henry the person, pointing to his CD player. “C’mon, Henry the dragon. Let’s dance. It’s Hammertime!”
Surprisingly, the two Henrys were a great dance team. The dragon taught the boy how to dance with fire. And the boy decked the dragon with heavy gold chains which made the dragon less beastlike.
The two Henrys made a somewhat awful “You Tube” video which somehow went viral. It became somewhat of a movement where people dressed in scales and gold chains and blasted MC Hammer everywhere.
But, while Hammertime was just a phase, the friendship between the two Henrys grew and grew. And they lived interestingly (and mostly happy) together.
The End.
Lair of the Dragon
- Posted by Hufflepuff on 10.07.2010 2:28 PM
Dawn was fast approaching. Sir Oswald shifted uncomfortably in his armor; it had been nearly an hour since the party’s scout had aroused him and told him to get ready to move out. Brother Dale could be heard chanting and praying in the room behind Sir Oswald, and MacPhirris was presumably curled up somewhere studying that musty old tome he constantly kept at his side. Sir Oswald sighed; he knew the morning preparations were necessary—indeed his own life had been saved many a time by a timely blessing or some kind of magical bolt or whatnot—but they were still strained at his nerves. He was ready to hunt this beast down, but knew he couldn’t do it alone…so he waited.
An eternity later, although Sir Oswald suspected it had only been five minutes, Brother Dale emerged from his room.
“Ready to go?” asked Sir Oswald.
“The omens look good, my son. Today we shall triumph,” was Brother Dale replied.
“Right. Well, let’s go find MacPhirris, and that blasted sneak-thief, and get on with this.” Sir Oswald tromped off down the hall of the inn, and into the common room. There he saw the old gaunt figure of MacPhirris standing by the main door, and Krevel, as he called himself, flirting with a barmaid.
Brother Dale spoke up, “come, my friends, the Sir Oswald grows anxious. Krevel, I assume you know how to get us there?”
“Right ye are, there,” Krevel responded in his commoner drawl. Krevel was a master scout and superb linguist and could drop the accent whenever he wanted, but used it because he knew it irritated Sir Oswald and MacPhirris, and it was making the barmaid giggle. “It’ll just be takin’ us a good dayz march, it will.”
“Well then, let’s march,” boomed Sir Oswald. The party turned and marched out of the inn, but not before Krevel snuck a kiss from the barmaid.
MacPhirris turned to Krevel, “Where exactly are we going?”
“Oh, we’ll be heading to the foothills,” Krevel pointed, “and taking a cave entrance I found deep into the heart of the mountain, I expect. I’m no dwarf, but I’ll bet my weight in gold that it’ll take us up to the dragon’s lair.”
“How do you know?” Sir Oswald interjected, relieved that Krevel had dropped the annoying accent.
“Well, for one, there were quite a number of bones at the mouth of the cave; secondly, there was what appeared to be the droppings of some large creature. I imagine that the cave is a sort of chute for offal.”
“Well then,” declared Sir Oswald, “I guess we’d best get going.”
---
Another goblin screamed as Sir Oswald swung his giant sword into the side of the creature’s torso. This was getting tiring. Sixteen dead by his hands alone, and the creatures just kept coming. Brother Dale was not ten feet behind him, braining the little buggers with great sweeps of his ironclad mace. Krevel had disappeared, but the occasional arrow, shot from the shadows, would find its mark in the head or between the shoulders of various goblins. MacPhirris sat in the back, occasionally using his staff to beat a goblin to death, but for the most part, throwing bolts of magical energy to fry goblins that tried to flank the party.
Sir Oswald moved deeper into the ranks of the goblin swarm, swinging left and right. The goblins were dieing by the handful, but they would not break and flee; what infernal presence was keeping these creatures in line? Goblins are cowardly by nature, so something had to instill enough fear or awe that these goblins were willing to throw their lives away to appease it. A magical bolt of energy flew by Sir Oswald’s head and struck a nearby tree; he followed its trajectory, and at last he understood.
Standing on the crest of a hill was a goblin dressed in skins and bones. Although quite comical in his appearance, it did not escape Sir Oswald’s notice that the shaman’s regalia looked very much like that of a dragon. So, thought Sir Oswald, these creatures worship the dragon that resides here. That shaman must be the ‘voice’ of their “god”; heh, poor misguided creatures.
“Light him up!” shouted Sir Oswald, and a pair of arrows answered his cry. One embedded itself in the thick skins of the shaman’s outfit, the other in the neck of a fanatical goblin that had leapt to take the arrow for his leader. “Wow,” thought Sir Oswald, “that is devotion.”
However, the goblin’s noble sacrifice meant little as MacPhirris turned to add his firepower to bear on the poor shaman. Two years ago, the duel between these mages might have been a close call, but MacPhirris had battled his way through shamans, sorcerers, heretics, and even Dragzel the lich. He was a skilled mage and seeped with arcane power. The shaman stood no chance. MacPhirris summoned forth the magical energies and threw a colossal ball of eldritch energy at the poor goblin. A great blast of greenish white light engulfed the battlefield, blinding everyone for a few seconds. Once the light faded, Sir Oswald looked up to see a smoking crater where the shaman and his escort had once been. As one, the goblin horde turned and fled.
“Let them go,” called Brother Dale, “and let’s see to our injuries.”
No one had been severely hurt in that fight. Sir Oswald had acquired some nasty bruises where goblin weapons had bounced off his platemail, but was not bleeding. MacPhirris had received a nasty gash on his arm early in the ambush, but a few divine words from Brother Dale sealed up the worst of it. Brother Dale himself, as well as Krevel, had emerged unscathed.
“Well, that was a nice warm-up,” chuckled Krevel. He then wandered off to collect whatever arrows might have survived the combat.
“Devote little buggers,” panted Sir Oswald, “too bad they won’t worship Lord Sundarius, eh Dale?”
“Their ignorance is no laughing matter, Sir Oswald,” replied Brother Dale, but he cracked a grin despite himself.
---
The party crept up to the cave entrance. “Well, here it is,” whispered Krevel.
“Alright, Brother Dale if you would be so kind as to give up light?” Sir Oswald sheathed his massive sword, and pulled out a more modest blade and unslung his shield. Brother Dale lit a torch and held it aloft, mace clutched firmly in his other hand. The flickering light revealed bones, offal, and stalagmites scattered all over the cave floor.
The party moved in slowly, Sir Oswald at the head, followed by Brother Dale and MacPhirris, and lastly, Krevel, who took the job of rearguard. The cave seemed to slope upwards, so the party picked their footing amongst the slippery rocks and cavern shelves. Pools of foul smelling liquid and the cracked bones of humanoids littered the way. However, these bones all appeared ancient—there didn’t seem to be any new bones or feces littered amongst the old. By Sir Oswald’s reckoning, the creature that left these remnants hadn’t been active in several years. Perhaps the dragon entered one of its decade-long slumbers? That would be convenient if not a little anticlimactic.
Further and further the party stumbled, slipped, and crawled into the deep. How long had Sir Oswald been wandering through these caverns? Hours? Days? He supposed it was just his impatience getting the better of him…again. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, the party managed to pull themselves up into a gigantic cavern. MacPhirris mumbled a few arcane words, and bright light flared out from his staff, filling the giant room. Grander than any of the dwarven halls, this cave must have been carved out by volcanic activity. In the center of the room, there lay the huge form of a dragon. The party formed up in an attack pattern, and Sir Oswald surged forth, ready to strike. And then his heart sank. The mound was a pile of bones and scales—the remains of a once mighty wyrm.
Its colossal skull looked more than capable of biting Sir Oswald in half—its shimmering scales ready to repel sword, arrow, and spell. This beast was exactly as the stories had told of it, and the battle would have truly been spectacular. Sir Oswald could see it in his mind; a mighty drake reared back and breathing fire upon him, as Sir Oswald raised his shield in defense.
MacPhirris knew dragons to be among the greatest spellcasters alive—he could just imagine the titanic duel that would have erupted. Spell after spell would be thrown against the dragon’s hide to no avail, as MacPhirris fought desperately to not only hold back the dragon’s spells, but to find a weak point in his magical defenses.
Brother Dale and Krevel were both horrified at the lack of treasure. Dale had been hoping to donate vast sums to the church, and Krevel wanted to donate vast sums to… himself.
But the dragon’s horde was nowhere to be seen. Nothing was left in this place but the rotten remains of a dragon’s corpse…
Whoops
- Posted by Roon on 10.06.2010 11:16 PM
Once upon a time (hhhmmmm, too cliché? Nah….) there lived me, the most awesomest dragon in the world. And yeah, that’s a word. Then again villagers aren’t the most reliable people..… Oh! I forgot to introduce myself: my name’s Looey and I’m a big-ish fearsome-ish fire breathing dragon! I’m trying to be the first ever dragon story teller in Atlantis. Unfortunately, that paper stuff kept turning into black powder each time I sneezed. Weird stuff, bet it was made by one of you humans. This typing thing is a lot better.
You know, they say the computer I’m using is what controls what keeps this big rock floating. Weird they let me borrow it huh?
Mmmm this security guy is pretty good…I bought it at Hum-Fil-A before coming today. Can’t write a best seller without some thinking food right?
Alright, time to type th-wait, I'm gonna sn-aaaahhhh, ahhhh
ch……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The Three Not-So-Little Dragons
- Posted by Mr. Puff M. Dragon on 10.06.2010 10:42 PM
Once upon a time there were three not-so-little, actually very big, dragons. Paul, 31 years old, Eric, 32 years old, and Joey, 35 years old, all still lived with their parents. One day, their mom had enough.
“I’m sick of you three always burning my couch!” their mother said.
“Not to mention my collectible action figures,” their father added in.
“Yeah, sure honey, your action figures… we all know their dolls. Why don’t you just admit it? Anyways, about you all’s fire breathing habits. I’m sick of it. GET OUT!” the mother screamed.
And so the not-so-little dragons packed up their belongings and left, to live on their own.
Paul moved into a very nice wooden house, with a great view of the lake, and even a walk-in closet! He had great neighbors that made him food when he moved in. He got jello, and cake, and pudding, and even a nice pasta dish with pepper on it. After eating all the desserts first, Paul settled down to eat his pasta.
“This smells delicious!” Paul exclaimed, and took a deep breath. This turned out to be a very big mistake. Pepper flew up his nose, and Paul SNEEZED!
Fire went everywhere, burning his house to the ground. Upset, Paul flew back to his parents’ house.
Eric moved into an apartment in the city. It was close to work, good restaurants, and even the salon (Eric always had to have manicured nails. Is that such a crime? He just likes to look good! Sheesh! And anyways, you can’t spell manicure with MAN). The only problem was, his apartment was dusty. And I’m not talking a little dust floating around, I’m talking a foot of dust covering everything.
“Well, this isn’t too bad,” Eric said. “I’ll just do some clean up with this new Swiffer Duster!” As he proceeded to dust off the kitchen counter, but dust flew everywhere, including up his nostrils. Eric SNEEZED!
Fire went everywhere, and the dust caught on fire, burning his apartment (Don’t worry though! It was very contained fire and no other apartments got damaged). Pretty miffed, Eric flew back to his parents’ house.
Joey moved into a ginormous mansion after winning the lottery. It had 50 indoor swimming pools, one giant outdoor swimming pool that went around the entire mansion, 100 bedrooms, 200 bathrooms, and 1,500 flat screen TVs (not to mention a lovely botanical garden on the 4th floor).
Knowing his allergies would flare up, and not wanting all his money to go up in flames, Joey fire proofed everything. When he sneezed, fire shot everywhere, but nothing burned! He was really smart for doing that (seriously, why didn’t the other brothers do that? Idiots).
When Paul finally got to his parents’ house, his brother Eric was there too!
“Hey! What a surprise! What are you doing here?” Eric asked.
“I burned my house down,” replied Paul.
“Dude no way! ME TOO!” said Eric.
“That is so awesome,” said Paul.
They knocked on the door, and some old lady open the door.
“Whoah! You are NOT my mom!” Paul shouted. The lady immediately fainted. Paul and Eric went inside to check things out, and to find out why some human was in a dragon’s house. When they went inside, everything was different! The furniture, the paint, the carpeting.
“Dude,” Eric said to Paul. “I think they moved out too!”
“We gotta tell Joey!” Paul said, and they flew off.
Joey was relaxing in his giant pool when he heard his two brothers flying towards him.
“Cannonball!” Eric shouted. Before Joey could say “Don’t you dare!” the two brothers and jumped in, making a huge splash.
“You’re lucky I’m not reading a book, or you would’ve been in BIG trouble!” Joey said.
“Dude, shut up. You’re so obnoxious. Anyways, mom and dad moved out of there house!” Paul said.
“I know that. Don’t get me started on it.”
“Oh! And also, we’re moving in!” Eric said.
“What?! No! Not you two also!” Joey protested!
“Wait, what do you mean ‘also’?” Paul asked.
Just then, a loud roar was heard from the deck. It was Mamma Dragon.
“YOU IDIOTS! BURNING DOWN YOUR HOUSES! MAKING MURIEL PASS OUT! UGH I CAN’T STAND YOU! I AM SO GLAD WE DON’T HAVE TO LIVE WITHOUT EACHOTHER ANYMORE! BECAUSE SERIOUSLY, YOU TWO ARE MY LEAST FAVORITE SONS!” the mother bellowed.
“Umm… Mother, I hate to break it to you, but… they’re moving in.” Joey said quietly.
“WHAT?!” the mother said, and quickly passed out.
THE END
The Adventures of Leif
- Posted by John Quill on 10.06.2010 9:24 PM
Leif leapt out of the tree and fluttered to the ground. He had earned his red coat and was tired of blending in – he was ready for action. Upon hitting the forest floor, Leif sprouted arms, legs and wings. The wings were wet with dew and as of yet unusable. Leif turned to face the rising sun, then spun about and walked the other direction. Fairy folk are drawn to the west and it is said that they continue to travel toward the setting sun until they drop off the side like lemmings and then live forever under the land where the sun goes to sleep. Leif, however, had no intentions of falling off anytime soon; no, his adventures had just begun. And so he set off with the newborn sun dry his silvery wings.
Leif had not gone far when an oversized chipmunk bounded across his path. Now Leif, in need of a mount due to his sodden wings, saw this as a fortuitous encounter. “Whoa, there Munk,” he called, coughing around his creaking voice. The chipmunk paused and turned about, raising one paw in hesitation. “I take it you are looking for nuts,” declared Leif boldly, “Travel with me and you shall have all the nuts we find together.” The chipmunk circled Leif three times and sniffed his boots, for boots had accompanied the legs Leif had sprouted. Then the chipmunk tucked its ears back and bent all its legs so one might believe him to be lying down. “That’s better,” said Leif, pushing back his bangs as he closed the distance between him and Munk. Leif climbed upon the shying chipmunk placing his legs on either side of the chipmunk’s neck such that Leif’s knees just touch the chipmunk’s ears.
Munk was happy to carry Leif; the slight weight of the pixie on his back afforded him the feeling of being a contributing member of a group. Munk always envied wolves and other pack animals. He even tried to organize his fellow chipmunks into a pack, but they just laughed and threw acorns at each other during the meetings and eventually Munk ceased trying. Together, Munk and Leif journeyed westward past the outskirts of Leif’s birth forest and into Munk’s favorite place to be. The field they entered was full of peonies and begonias; their pink and yellow blossoms dancing in the wind.
It was then that a fairly large dragon swooped down and ate them. Needless to say, Leif and Munk were very surprised. In fact, however, the dragon did not eat them as per the technical definition of the word, but merely began to eat them; by which I mean to say, Leif and Munk suddenly found themselves in the mouth of a dragon being pulled to the back of his throat with no clear notion of how they got there. Now, the fast reacting Leif, noticed a gap between two of the dragon’s back teeth and wedged himself into the small space. Munk, not being so foresightful, panicked, stiffly reaching for all the heavens at once and becoming one massive and prickly hairball.
The dragon, Lemon-drop by name, thought she had just snatched herself an elevensies snack. When her tasty treat caught in her throat, her eyes bulged in alarm, and then filled with tears, for she was really just a dragonling fresh from the nest, and her mother had always told her to chew her food before swallowing. She held her breath as she spiraled down and landed on her side in the peony ridden begonia field. At least she would die somewhere beautiful. As she released her dying breath, Munk tumbled out. Leif climbed out onto Lemon-drop’s snoot and peered into one of her large dragon-eyes. Lemon-drop had heard that one of the heavens was ruled by little people, but she had no idea that they would be this tiny or this bedraggled looking. She pinched her eyes closed and sobbed, “I don’t want to die.”
Leif cocked his head, “Then don’t.” He hopped of her snoot and went to Munk, still lying petrified. Now, Lemon-drop believed that Leif was a heavenly fairy giving her a second chance at life. She lifted her back and bowed her head. “Oh, great fairy lord, what can I do to thank your kind for understanding my plight?” Leif looked up at her a little irritated due to the mental state of his mount. “Simple – don’t eat anything that looks like me or that looks like this,” Leif said, gesturing towards Munk, “Because he is a magic fairy mount and pivotal to our very important mission.” “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” explained Lemon-drop, and after declaring to never foul up again, she flew up into the sky, humbled and religiously enlighten.
Munk’s heart swelled with the kind and triumphant words Leif had spoken. He was pivotal to a very important mission? Munk could hardly believe his luck. He would willingly follow Leif to the heavens and beyond to help forward the Leif’s cause however he could, even if he didn’t understand the why or the wherefore; he would be Leif’s eternal companion. And Leif knew it.
1 and 2
- Posted by Greggery Peccary on 10.06.2010 8:40 PM
Story #1
A priest, a rabbi, and a dragon walk into a bar. The bar tender asks, "What'll ya have?" The priest says, "I'll have a Guinness." The rabbi says, "I'll have a glass of Manischewitz." The dragon says, "I'll have a fire-water."
Story #2
A dragon was down on his luck and decided to go to the casino to try to make some fast money. He went directly to the Black Jack table where he proceeded to win every hand for 2 straight hours. The casino management came to the table and accused him of counting cards. He said, "Hey, I'm just on a hot streak!"
It Runs In The Family
- Posted by S.P. Marg on 10.06.2010 2:34 PM
Once there was a dragon named Hector who thought that he was far superior to any canine. To prove this, he entered a hunting-dog field trial to show that anything a dog could do, he could do better. Of course he lost. When the trained hunting-dogs found their intended prey they froze in a posture to indicate to their handlers where the birds were. When Hector located his prey, he didn't know what to do, so he just ran around in circles; proving that he was a pointless dragon. Did I mention that Hector was Henry's brother?
Hero
- Posted by Naturally Speaking on 10.06.2010 9:03 AM
Bits of metal littered the ground and the overpowering smell of burnt flesh lingered in the air, attacking any nostrils that were unfortunate enough to be close by. All that remained of his noble stead was something vaguely resembling a lump of coal and a pile of soot. The sword, once a revered weapon of man, now only serves as a tooth pick. His decade of training and endless hours of preparation seem like they might have almost done him some good. His wall of achievements and lifetime of treasures are joined only by dust now. And he- once a physical being- is now just a memory of a hero that almost was.
The Cute, Fluffy, Furry, Tiny Tiny, Little Bunny
- Posted by Mama Umbridge on 10.04.2010 4:46 PM
One sparkling wintry day, in a faraway magical land of Rainbowtopia, there was a cute, fluffy, little bunny. The fluffy little bunny was hopping through the snow when he came across a big lump in the snow. He tilted his head to the side and tapped his foot. Thump thump thump.
"Hmm...I wonder what this great lump could be, " he said in his cute little voice. He hopped up a bit closer, took one big leap and-
"OUCH!," the cute little bunny yelped. "That hurt!" He had landed on something hard, spiked, and scaly. "How curious..," he thought. Never before had he seen such a strange rock before.
Suddenly, the rock became to move!
"Curiouser and curiouser..." He thought. The rock was moving very quickly, up towards the sky. "I'm flying! I'm king of the world!" He proclaimed, as he stretched his cute little arms out and looked towards the sky.
Then the rock started to speak in a great, booming, terrifying voice. "I AM THE GREAT AND POWERFUL MOZZ! WHY HAVE YOU AWOKEN ME FROM MY SLUMBER?!"
The cute little bunny shuddered, wondering where the voice was coming from. Then, he realized, "Oh no! This isn't a hard, scaly, blue rock! Its a dragon! My mommy always told me never to wake a sleeping dragon! What have I done?!"
The cute little bunny soared off the dragon's back, and hit the ground rolling. He started to escape, but the poor, cute little bunny was no match for the mighty dragon. The dragon scooped up the cute little bunny, and swallowed him whole. It then settled back down into its slumber, awaiting those cherished spring days so it could terrorize more villages.
Ella - the Time Traveler Dragon
- Posted by Mac ’N Cheese Nana on 10.03.2010 8:43 PM
My name is Ella. I think of myself these days as a Time Traveler.
Before I could read, my parents read stories to me of a time long ago when humans and dragons lived in the same world. Later, when we were able to read, my friends and I poured over these same stories together when we were having sleep-overs. The stories told us that the humans were not really big but very were very clever. And quite unpredictable. For no reason at all, they would sometimes hunt the dragons and try to kill them.
No one really believed this ever happened, but it was very exciting – and terribly scary - to imagine it all! We read that one day the Mighty Dragon Keeper decided that it was in the best interest to move the dragons to another world where there were no humans to hurt them. There, the dragons would be the strong ones.
My Mom and Dad always said, “We must not be bullies just because we are one of the strong ones. And have the special power of fire.” You can bet that I was sure to get frowns from my Mom if she caught me acting anything like a bully. “That sort of behavior is unacceptable, she’d say. “Remember that you are one of the strong ones. Soon we will teach you to use your fire power, and we hope that you will use it wisely.” I couldn’t wait to get “fired-up!”
When I was seven years old, I started to Fire School. The teacher taught us how to control our flame-breath, and said we must use it with great care. “Remember, she said, “You are one of the strong ones with awesome fire power! Only use it for good.” It was fun to learn the art of fire-breathing, and I’d often practice with setting a few twigs on fire, and mostly kept my fire under control.
Being a high-spirited little dragon, I was rambunctious. I could be seen running happily about doing such things as roaring loudly and waking up all the dragon babies and getting them all crying at once, or splashing wildly through the little streams, frightening the tiny fishes, making them swim crazily around and around.
One of my favorite things to do was to annoy the silly chattering birds. I enjoyed shaking a tree branch and making them fall off their perches. One day, I got a little too energetic and made a nest come tumbling down, baby birds and all! This really made the mother bird mad, and she flew at me and began to peck me about my eyes.
Needless to say, the birds did not like me. The feeling was mutual. Looking back now, I realize that I was just plain envious of the birds because they could so easily fly up and sit on the tree branches. One day, I tried this and the branch broke! I fell and landed on the rocks on the ground below! It hurt! The birds laughed like crazy. I got very angry with them and threw out a flame and scorched their tail feathers real good!
For this, I was made to do time out on the “Uh-Oh!” rock. The birds loved this and laughed like crazy! As I sat there on that rock, I became more and more furious! I decided that I’d really just like to run away for a while. I slipped quietly over the back side of the rock and disappeared into the forest. My Mom didn’t notice that I had gone.
In the forest, I met Hag Neelda and cried on her shoulder for a while, and asked if she could please help me run away from home. “But only for a little while, I said. I just want everyone to feel badly and miss me.” She said that she had a special spell that would take me to another place. She didn’t say where the spell would take me. She also gave me a “coming back home” spell to take with me. She wrote the spells down on a piece of willow bark and I tucked it into the purple fanny pack that I got for my 9th birthday.
Neelda had me close my eyes and repeat some words after her. I repeated the words and started to get very sleepy and to feel like I was spinning around. I woke up on the ground in a strange little thicket. The trees were barely tall enough to hide me and there was not a rock or stream in sight. It was too quiet. There were no contented dragon roars that I was used to hearing.
I felt hungry, and wondered what sort of food I might find in this strange place. I wandered out of the thicket and scouted around, and came upon some small green leafy plant-things and some berries growing there. I picked some of the berries and sampled them. They were a little too sweet, but not all that bad. Anyway, I was starving, so I began to eat.
Just then, a four-legged creature about my size came running out of nowhere and started lunging at me. It made loud sounds that frightened me, so I ran quickly back into the cover of the thicket. “Is this a human?” I wondered. It did not fit the description of what I’d read about the humans. My story books depicted humans standing on two legs. As I puzzled over just what this strange place might be and what the creature was, night fell and I drifted off to sleep.
I woke up the next morning to noises coming from somewhere not too far off. The noises did not sound angry, so I crept slowly to the edge of the thicket and peeked out. There I saw several creatures, standing up on two legs and making noises amongst themselves. “There are humans!” I thought. My heart was pounding heavily. One of them was leading another not-human creature that walked on four legs. It looked like a unicorn, but it had no horn or wings that I could see. They put the creature into his cave, and left food for it. Then they went away.
I was almost faint with hunger, and hoped I might find food in that cave for myself. I am not very big, but people tell me that I am quite strong and brave, for a girl. The four-legged creature was five times my size, but it I appeared to be very slow, so I figured that I could easily outrun it.
I slipped into the cave without being seen, and started to look around for food. I began to munch on some of what the creature was eating. It was strange-tasting, brown and all dried-up. The creature looked up and saw me, and started to come toward me. I panicked and gasped and accidentally breathed out a flame. Not a tiny flame, but one of my large-than-usual flames. The flame set the brown food on fire! I ran as fast as I could back into the thicket.
I was trembling as I watched through the branches. The fire got bigger and bigger. Several humans came running and one of them quickly got the creature from the cave. There was a huge amount of loud noise and commotion. They threw water on the fire and finally put it out.
I was terrified and wanted badly to go back home. I reached for my purple fanny pack to get my coming-back-home spell that Neelda gave me, and discovered that I was no longer wearing it! I sat down and started to cry. Dragons get very loud when they cry.
Presently, something touched me lightly on the shoulder and I turned around to see a human bending over me. This one looked different from the other humans, and it spoke quietly and asked, “What is the matter, little dragon?”
“How do you know what I am?” I asked. She replied, “I’ve read about you in books. No one here really believes that you exist, tho. How in the world did you get here?”
I told the story of how I got there, how I was chased by a four-legged creature that made fearsome noises at me, and how I accidentally started the fire in the cave. “This place is very strange place to me and I am afraid. And hungry and thirsty. I want to go back home, but I’ve lost my little purple fanny pack with my magic coming-back-home spell in it.” I told her that my name was Ella.
“Ella, you are in a place that we call “earth.” We two-legged creatures are called “people”, she explained. “I am a woman. My name is Onie. The four legged creature that chased you; why he’s just Old Jake, the farm dog. He’s all noise, and wouldn’t hurt a flea. The four-legged creature in the “cave,” –we call it a barn - is my friend’s horse. She is a baby girl horse and her name is Lady. Lady is said to come from a long line of champions and everyone makes a real big fuss over her. She is not allowed to run free in the pasture like the other horses; but has a special barn all to herself. One of her foods is hay and that is what you accidentally set on fire. Come with me and I will make you some breakfast. There is no one else around.”
She made me pecan pancakes and scrambled eggs. I’d never eaten it before, but I was very hungry and it tasted delicious. Then she disappeared for a moment and came back holding my little purple fanny pack! “I found this near the barn,” she said, as she handed it to me. “It must have fallen off while you were running back into the thicket.”
I was beside myself with joy. I couldn’t wait to get back home and tell my Mom about my trip to people-earth. The woman said “good-bye” and told me to feel free to use the magic words and come back to visit her any time I wished.
Over the next few years, I returned to Onie’s for a few days’ visit from time to time. She kept me a secret from her neighbors. She would let me hide out in the big shop, which was right beside a neighbor’s horse barn. Occasionally, I’d get bored and couldn’t resist stampeding the neighbor’s horses a little, or scaring the chickens that roosted there in the horse barn. One day in June, I met Onie’s grand daughter, Rose, who said she always visited in the summer. Rose liked to come out and feed the horses. She would sometimes come into the shop and we would sit on the piles of wood and talk and talk.
One day, Onie told me that she had decided to move. I asked Neelda if she had magic words to take me to the new place. She said “Yes.” And she gave me new magic words.
The new place is called a city. There are lots of houses and people everywhere, and so much light that it is never really dark, not even at night. I am careful to stay out of sight. There is a little woods in the back where I can play and hide out during the day. The woods is long and narrow, and there are houses near. From there, I can peek out and see all sorts of strange and interesting people-things going on. If a neighbor occasionally remarks about a snorting and stomping noise out there, Onie tells folks that it’s the two old horses that have run free back there for years.
Someone put out a mineral block treat for the horses and deer in the woods. One day, in one of my mischievous moods, I couldn’t resist breathing just a tiny flame onto the mineral block. It melted a little and the grass caught fire! I quickly stomped out the flame. It only scorched a little bit of the grass around it.
Everyone is happy that I am finally getting into more grown-up ways these days. But I am still a dragon and all dragons like to have fun! Sometimes at night, the woman lets me romp around in her attic, and I try not to be too noisy up there. Visitors have occasionally said that they hear little sounds coming from the attic. “Rats” she explains. “A couple of really big rats.”
Rose came to visit during summer vacation. It was her first visit to the new place. She was checking it out and went up in the attic to have a look. There I was, sitting on the floor, surrounded by old Christmas wrapping paper and boxes, wearing a Christmas wreath on my head and playing with the Christmas tree ornaments. She was surprised and happy to see me. We talked for a while and she caught me up on what was going on with her. The attic was way too hot for her, so she was unable to stay long. Dragons don’t mind the heat.
Rose returned from the attic and went into the kitchen where food was being prepared. She was wearing a big grin. Onie just looked at her and winked. Rose later brought me my first ever Monte Cristo sandwich. It was wonderful!
I stay home with my friends and family more these days, and have decided to undertake some serious study. I am enrolled in a Foreign Correspondent course at Dragon Community College.
Rose is presently taking courses in cooking at a college in her town. One of the cousins has predicted that she will one day become a world-famous “Belly-Dancing Chef!”
Boscoe
- Posted by Banana on 10.01.2010 1:44 PM
Once upon a time a little girl named Robin was taking a walk in Banana Park. It was called Banana Park because the founder of the park really liked bananas. Robin stopped to look at her favorite tree when she saw something moving in the bushes. She walked over to take a look and sitting in the bushes was a dog-sized dragon. (Not to be confused with a dragon sized dog.) The dragon was blue and had lots of scales. It had big yellow eyes and a spiky tail.
Robin thought that the dragon seemed kind of small, but it didn't bother her much. She thought it was very cute. She gave the dragon a pat on the head and it wagged its tail. Since it didn't have a name tag she decided to give it a name. Robin decided to name the dragon Boscoe. So she and Boscoe (who was very well behaved) walked around Banana Park, admiring the pretty flowers and trees. Boscoe saw a little chihuahua and wanted to chase it but Robin said he must be polite. So Boscoe just watched it from a distance, but he did drool a little.
When they were done with their walk, they went back to Robins house. Robin made Boscoe a nice little bed and gave him a teddy bear. They played checkers and watched squirrels play in the back yard. When they got hungry they ate some bananas and drank root beer. They spent the rest of the night watching movies until it was time for bed. They brushed their teeth and went to sleep.
The End.
Draggin’ a Dragon
- Posted by OnceUponATimeTheyWereOffTheTable on 09.30.2010 7:27 PM
You may wonder why I’m dragging this dragon. And you may have heard of me. My name is MontyMontyFlapjack. But you can call me John. Never mind that. I’m a small man named Keith who lives in the British region known as Wessex. I think. Anyway. I’m a dragon hunter. Yup, I’m that dude that people call up when a Dragon’s loose. I get phone calls all the time from people in a panic screaming “Help, I’m trying to reach Johansson, professional dragon-slayer!” Yup, that’s me, I reply. …Anyway.
Today I got an unusual case. A young hipster out on the street (who was indubitably “fly”, as the kids call it now) came up to me and said “Yo my homie G sup,” to which I humbly replied “Word to yo brosephs, what’s shakin’ blazer?” The straight-up gangster told me about a “Nasty li’l dragon who be trippin’ all up and down the hood.” I told him “Lil’l dragons? I’ll scoop’em up ‘cause dat’s how I roll, run and tell that!” to which he offered a closing “Word bruthah.”
I journeyed into the forest, searching for clues on the whereabouts of this monster. A brilliant scent found its way to my nasal cavity. “Fresh Dragon” was the name of the scent; you can buy it at your local CVS. Following the advice of an old scholar by the name of T. Sam I decided to “Follow my nose, wherever it goes.”
Soon enough I came upon the Dragon. Oh my dear Lord, this was the most prevalent dragon you ever saw. Four score and seven meters long, it slept quietly under a large blade of grass. I was more blown away than Mr. Fredrickson’s house from Up. You could say I was “flabbergasted” to say the least. However, I’d found him. “Juvenile reptile, should have used Old Spice!” I cried. I thought about its size. It might be imperative to use my state-of-the-art, top-tier, never-before-tested Dragon Gun™. The Dragon Gun™ uses advanced technological abilities to render the dragon unable to use its spleen. Because everyone knows a dragon can’t fight humans without its spleen. Squirrels, maybe. But certainly not humans.
Finally I reached into my Satchel to find my Dragon Gun™… or lack thereof. “Blast!!” I shouted. To put it bluntly, I was screwed six ways from Sunday. I’ll need to drag the dragon back to my laboratory to kill there. So that brings me to here. Draggin’ a dragon through the woods by the tail. Never mind how I’m managing to pull this near-90-meter beast of fantasy. That’s extraneous drivel that I’d rather not bore you with. The town was within sight. But then a small pebble kicked up from my shoe and hit the dragon between the eyes. It awoke.
“Fee Fi Fo Fum. I smell the blood of an Englishmen. And Old Spice.” The dragon exclaimed in a deafening whisper. “Who dare draggeth my tail acrosseth my own forest?”
“It is I, Jeremy the dragon-hunter!” I shouted. “And I am draggin you, dragon, to my laboratory for supplementary study. It seems you might be overjoyed of this news, rather than having been slain on the spot by my highly potent-but-absent Dragon Gun.
“Then what, I say, dost thou calleth that contraption hanging from your belt, gentleman?”
“Oh, that?! Never mind that, it is only an elephant gun.”
“An elephant gun? Thou speaketh of nonsense! And for that you shall suffer a fiery demise! Thine own fate is yours, Bob the dragon hunter! Any last words before I scorch thou where thou standeth?”
“Just a few: first, I’d like to say that I was going to try and kill you with that elephant gun anyway; Worth a shot, although I’ve never slain a dragon anyway. They always kill me first.
“Dost thou speaketh the truth? Ha! Impotent mortal. Pitiable. Go on.”
“Second, I’d like to say what an honor it is to meet a dragon of your magnitude and commanding stature! It is truly quite an experience I shall never—“
“Enough of thy poppycock and brownnosing! I cannot stand your mindless prattle! Enjoy thy last breath of sweet earthly air, mortal!”
“Wait! If you are ever slain by a hunter of greater nobility than I, and we should meet in the afterlife, tell me how Rock Band 3 was. It comes out in a month.”
And so, I died. I think. A month later, he was slain. I approached him and asked "Have you fulfilled my request? How was Rock Band 3?"
He looked quite puzzled and let out a sigh...
"Mortal..." he spoke, "I must confess my sins; I'm a Guitar Hero dragon. I never bought Rock Band 3. I'm don't even play on expert."
"'Guitar Hero'?" I said. "Hmm... I shall look into this 'Guitar Hero' you speak of. I, being me, am an expert guitar player. Sounds like cakewalk."
And a cakewalk it was. Apparently I'm the best Guitar Hero in all of Heaven. So good, I started putting up videos onto YouTube showcasing my skill. You can go search for me on YouTube. My name is Danny, The Guitar hero.
THE END.
The Gift of the Dragon
- Posted by Out Of Town on 09.29.2010 12:58 PM
Once upon a time there was a lizard who hatched close to a stream of clear cool water. It happened that at the time of the hatching there was a great thunderstorm and upon emerging from the egg is a lizard found himself surrounded by water since the nearby stream had overflowed its banks. The first response from the hatchling was to panic but as he carefully watched the things floating by he noticed a calmness in their seemingly helpless plight. He noticed that if you just floated with the strain and clung onto sticks that the swirling current did not take you under.
So when the water began to rise so that he too would be swept away he grabbed a nearby branch and began to ride the current.
At first he was frightened especially when the cold water came with in inches of his nostrils and the friged nature of his surroundings seemed to overpower him. But once again his strong urge to survive kicked in and he managed to pull himself up on top of the branch with the strong front legs. Then the warm sun had just poped out of the cloud began to warm his cold little body and he began to enjoy the ride of the branch swirling through the swift waters. He looked to the horizon and saw a beautiful multicolored light that seem to be caused by the sun shining on the raindrops.
Soon he began to get hungry and he noticed things around him and since it was his first meal he wasn't sure what he should eat. Attached to the branch swirling through the water was a small clam with a wiggly appendage that he thought might be good to eat. He shot out his tongue and reflexively grabbed the clam with his teeth. The shell was hard and tough and he started to speed out when he remembered the wiggly thing that was now back inside the shell so he began to chewer it until it at last cracked open and sure enough it was good to eat. There were no more clams on the branch so when he began to get hungry again he figured that there they might live in the water underneath so he bravely stuck his head in the water to look around to see if he could find another one. Sure enough he spied one and got it in with a mouthful of water.
By the time the branch finally landed on shore he had developed a real taste for the underwater treat and decided to live on the river bank so that he could swim out and get his preferred food.
One day as he was eating a grissel got caught in his teeth and when he spit it out he noticed that it was white and shiny. If the light reflected off of the round stone then rainbow light colors could be seen in it. Since a rainbow had signaled his escape from the thunderstorm he guessed that the hard white ball must bring good luck so he stored it away in his rock garden near the river.
As he chewed the hard shells of the freshwater clams or mussels his jaw got larger and his body beefed up in response to the protein diet containing a special growth hormone in the mussel's foot. After many months of eating clams he had found lots of pretty wide shiny balls but his storage place for the treasures became in jeopardy as another spring rain swelled up the river and threatened to wash away his pile of rocks. How could he rescue the big pile of good luck charms he wondered?
An orb spider was spinning a web nearby and the lizzard carried the warning of the rising water to the spider and mentioned that he was in trouble himself trying to rescue his treasures. The spider offered to help him by attaching a web to each of the white ball so that he could carry them all at once and drag them all up to higher ground.
And in his exhausred state of trying to rescue his home he became hopelessly lodged in the stones on the bank of the river. By now he had become so large that he was frightening to look at and would scare the socks off of any mortal man. But as the water rose nearly drowning him wedged in his trapped position amongst the rocks a lovely young maiden with long brown long hair and brown eyes named Jessica came along and saw him struggling in the rocks. She quickly wedged herself between the largest rock and put her back to it. TThen putting up her legs she propped her heels against the other large rock holding him, near to his large gaping mouth. This took a lot of courage since he was by this time a dying Dragon. With a great grunt she was able to push the rocks off and rescue the huge beast.
I want you to have my treasures he gasped with his labored breath as he uncovered a string of beads he was pulling with his claws which had been trapped under the rock.
The brave young maiden ran and got her mother who was unable to resuscitate the exhausted great lizard. At his request they put him on a large floating log which was coming down the stream so that he could once again float to another home and start his life over.
Princess of Woodbine
- Posted by Lady Lei on 09.29.2010 12:17 PM
A very beautiful princess from the Kingdom of Woodbine was celebrating her 15th birthday. She sent out invitations to the festive occasion both far and wide. She invited guests from the Kingdom of Wisconsin, the Kingdom of Lebanon, the Kingdom of Ellicott City, the Kingdom of Mount Airy, the Kingdom of Wilmington, the Kingdom of Baltimore, and to too many others to mention; the point being that there were a lot of invitations sent to many kingdoms. A prince from one of the far away kingdoms had to travel days and weeks to attend the beautiful princess' 15th birthday. He however was determined to find his way - it was probably a lost cause because he always lost his way. He faithfully asked directions, but still couldn't get pointed in the correct direction. He finally came upon a very intelligent looking dragon at one of the crossroads on his journey to the Kingdom of Woodbine. He pleaded with the dragon to point him in the right direction. The dragon smiled and said, "I would be very happy to point you in the correct direction, if I could, but you see I am a pointless dragon."
END OF STORY
Hulbert was a Dragon
- Posted by Amber Hawk on 09.28.2010 3:34 PM
Hulbert was a dragon; at least he was pretty sure he was. He had scales, wings, a long neck and a long tail. He supposed he could be a dinosaur but he didn’t know any dinosaurs or at least he didn’t think he did. It was all so confusing and had been since the day he’d hit his head. Whatever “it” was that he’d hit his head on had been hard and had barely moved when he hit it. Ever since that day Hulbert had been wandering around trying to figure out where he was and for that matter, who he was. All his supposing and figuring didn’t do him much good because he just didn’t remember. What it did do was make his head hurt very badly. So Hulbert perched once again on the large rock that he’d been perching and tried not to suppose anymore.
While Hulbert sat not supposing, a very brave rabbit came out from behind a large rock. He stopped when he’d reached the great dragon’s feet and he looked up into the large emerald eyes. Hulbert stared down at the creature; he hadn’t a clue what it was. He didn’t know if he should be afraid of it or eat it. Neither seemed like the brightest of ideas to him because it was, after all the first creature that had spoken to him since he’d been where ever it was that he was at.
“Hello” he rumbled quietly, trying not to scare off the creature. Looking around to make sure no other creatures were watching Hulbert leaned down to where the small furry brown thing was sitting and said, “Do you know what I am?” The rabbit scratched his long floppy ear with his back foot and then cocked his head to one side and then nodded his head up and down. Hulbert waited and waited for the furry thing to say something but it just sat there. He started supposing that maybe it didn’t understand him or maybe it couldn’t speak and just as this last thought floated through, the furry brown thing asked. “Are you going to eat me?”
Hulbert felt sick, was he supposed to eat this thing? It didn’t look all that appealing to him, it was very hairy and he really didn’t like to have hair in his food. He thought for a moment more and shook his head, “No, I don’t think I’m supposed to eat you.” Then he let out a great sigh that toppled the brown thing over. His new friend righted himself and shook his entire body and bounded back over to Hulbert.
Hulbert’s head hurt, there was still a large bump where he’d hit it. He looked at the brown thing looking up at him and he started to suppose again. Perhaps this thing hadn’t understood that he was asking him to tell him if he knew what he was. Maybe it just thought he wanted to know if “it” knew what he was. Oh, that thought really hurt his head; tenderly he rubbed it and then asked, “What are you?” The little brown thing looked at him wriggled his nose and replied, “Rabbit”. Ok, now they were getting somewhere, so Hulbert pressed on, “What am I?” The rabbit looked puzzled and wriggled his nose again before speaking, “Dragon”.
So it was just as Hulbert had supposed he was a dragon! “Do you suppose” the rabbit began, “that we could be friends?” Hulbert mulled it over for a moment and looked down at this new furry companion. “Yes, I suppose that would be nice.” With that the rabbit scurried up onto the rock next to Hulbert and sat. Together they looked out towards the large mountain that Hulbert had hit his head upon, neither of them thinking much of anything at all.
Encrust
- Posted by Tarrilla on 09.28.2010 8:26 AM
“Mom, the vermin are back!”
Chelsa sprang up on her bed screeching at the top of her lungs. Two rather large bi-things tottered in through the doorway, the one the vermin were always seeming to get into. No matter of blocking the entrance, or illusions, or traps kept them out for long. Springtimes were the worst. They bred like fur rats, where, as legend has it, their females exuded them out in a bloody mess, no more than 1 or two at a time. Nothing like the clean, dry, warm leathery eggs the brood mothers fussed over the long seasons it took to incubate and hatch. Whenever the weather turned warm again, they’d reappear, scouring the countryside, hauling stuff back to their hives. They were always getting in. None ever got out. Chelsa helped see to that.
Chelsa herself was only a few season old. Her scales were barely blue, and shimmered somewhat in the glow of the ice pits. They were getting harder and shinier every year, like her clutchmates Kella and Pierrhana and Belgarrotha. Only the big male Pio was farther along, his scales much more shiny, and a brilliant blue green. He’d be huge a few years, and was already half a wingspan bigger than the other girls.
Chelsa did a quick stutter double flap/jump and launched herself backwards over to the gem pile, covering her mother’s preset brood egg clutch with her body. She stared down at the vermin, icy blue mist bursting from her nostrils. It was her job to defend the clutch when predators showed up, although the vermin were nearly as bad. Once she’d had a full grown iceleth slither in. She’d dispatched it quickly enough. Still, she hated the vermin. Squishy warm things, which you couldn’t eat. And they smelled bad too.
These particular vermin were male, from the looks of it, with long red hair. They carried some sort of metal protrusion from their hands, pointing at Chelsa, and moving quickly away from one another.
The one on the left, nearest the door, sent a short missile at her. It bounced harmlessly off her scales. She hissed back at it, and sent a long blue methane jet out of her throat and toward the bi-thing. It was a perfect shot. However, when the cloud had dissipated, it wasn’t there any longer. It had darted around to the pile, hiding behind a large boulder. The other, she saw, was circling around to her left, attempting to flank her. How annoying. And rude. The first one had some sort of metallic shield in its other hand. A flush ran down her spine. It was blue, and scaled, and appeared to be made of dragon hide. She was suddenly very wary of these two. If they could kill a full grown dragon and take its scales, maybe they could kill her. She backed up to the top of the gem pile, dragging the clutch with her. Lets see them climb that.
The one to her right began moving both hands in a widdershins fashion. She could see the geas spark rising up from the motions. Magic! Fire based….cone projection….high velocity and power…"No!” As the spell solidified out of aether, she did a full forward wing clap, buffeting the air forward in a double rohelion, pulling air down in a roiling channel high pressure air burst, attempting to drive the fire back towards the mage. She was partly successful, she felt the scorch of the fire on her wingtips. It hurt, a lot. The bulk of the fire, however burst back towards the mage, who was nearly incinerated by the blast, and was thrown back against the wall in a fiery burning heap. It screamed and beat for a few seconds, then stopped moving, burning at the base of the wall.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the first one throw something. A thin woven mesh of some sort, with small stones along its perimeter. It flared out in an arc as it spun towards her, catching her somewhat off guard, and covering her head, and one wing. She was thrown off balance as one wing extended, leaving the other trapped. The vermin, seeing her struggling with the net leaped up over a large pile of sapphires, shield in one hand, axe in the other. The sapphire pile, however, collapsed under his weight (stupid vermin) and he went down in a pile. His shield went clattering over the floor of the cave.
Chelsa clenched, and used all of her remaining gas in one large projectile belch, spraying him with cold vitreous blue methane, freezing him instant amidst the pile of blue crystals, he collapsed like a frozen statue, covered in blue crystals sticking to him like a glittering shell. She fought free of the net, and threw it well away from the gem pile. She then slithered over and observed the thing. It was blue and frozen, covered in gems. How dare he! In a burst of rage, she ate the thing in 3 large gulps, crunchy, with some pulpy insides, all encrusted with gems. Oh my! Delicious! She had to have more.
She waited a few minutes to recharge her gas stores, then flew up and out of the cave, circling the ice fields. She saw a small encampment of the vermin below, and eventually found 3 more. With some trial and error she found just the right amount of methane and pressure to cold sear the meat, leaving just a hint of pulpiness inside. Crunchy on the outside. She ate the first two. Hmmm, they’re missing something. She took the last one inside and rolled it in sapphire crumbs before digging in. Yes! That’s it.
And that is the story behind the recipe for Chelsa’s famous Sapphire Encrusted Cold Seared Human. Often copied, but never duplicated. Stop in for the original next time you are visiting the Coldstone Mountains.
- Tarrilla, food editor, Dragon Gourmet Monthly
Penelope’s Goose
- Posted by Goldie Finch on 10.07.2009 9:22 PM
Once upon a time, there was a pink dragon named Penelope. She had a big mountain all to herself, called Penelapeke. She was a generally happy dragon, but happiness is accompanied by laughter, and Penelope hadn’t laughed since the summer before last. She used to laugh a lot, but one day when she was laughing out loud, a goose that was being prepared for the King’s birthday dinner, flew out the window and right into her mouth. The goose had so much pepper on it that Penelope sneezed it right out again with a blaze of dragony fire, which started a forest fire that made everyone very upset. The goose, who lost all her feathers, never spoke to Penelope again.
And so, Penelope watched all her dragon friends laugh and play, but she didn’t dare join for fear that she might burn down another forest, which was a no-no ever since the dragons signed the Save-the-Rainforest Act. Penelope spent more and more of her time alone in her cave and became a little sadder every day.
One day, the Little Boy Blue came by to see her. He was a wanderer now, since his haystack was burnt up in the forest fire. He came to visit her quite often. He was her only visitor. “Penelope, why are you sad?” said the Little Boy Blue, “The people aren’t mad, so why are you?”
“Oh Little Boy Blue,” Penelope said, “I know if I laugh, I’ll ruin this place. My laughter is hazardous – it’s toxic, it’s mace.”
“Burning down trees not what you meant. What you did is called a freak accident. Come my friend, laugh; we’ll fix this right now.”
Penelope said, “But I don’t know how.”
The Little Boy Blue picked up his hat and motioned to the door. Confused, Penelope followed, “Where to?”
“The Little Old Lady who lives in a shoe, she’ll know what to do,” said the Little Boy Blue.
When at last they arrived at the shoe, they asked the Little Old Lady, “Little Old Lady, what makes you laugh?” The Little Old Lady said, “Sometimes when I feel down, I sit out on the laces and watch my children play and they’re so clever, it makes me laugh all day.”
“Oh, my, can we try?” said the Little Boy Blue. So they climbed up onto the laces to watch the children. The other two fit fine, but Penelope had a hard time balancing atop the shoe. She was afraid she might fall off and crush the lady’s garden or little Mary, who sat in the garden. Every time she flapped her wings for balance, it sent a gust of wind billowing around the yard and disturbed the children’s play (though the children thought it was very cool to have a dragon watching them). Penelope soon became very distressed and thanked the Little Old Lady, but said it was time to go. The Little Old Lady at this point was laughing and bobbing in the gusts of wind and told Penelope and the Little Boy Blue to come back and join her anytime.
“How did that work? Did it fix your quirk?” asked the Little Boy Blue. Penelope shook her head and looked at the ground as they walked toward the fork in the road. Absentmindedly, she picked it up and put it in her pocket. Along came the Pied Piper. “Hello, Mr. Piper; you look hyper” said the Little Boy Blue. “Hello Blue, how goes the horn? Now, now, what’s this? Don’t look so forlorn.”
Penelope and the Little Boy Blue explained the situation and then asked, “What makes you laugh on a cloudy day?”
“Why that’s quite simple,” said the piper, “I act without thinking, my time is my own. I travel, I skip, I never go home.”
“I don’t think I like that,” Penelope said, and they moved on, listening to the ever more distant sound of the Pied Piper skipping down the road playing his pipe. At last they reach a wide field and settled down next to the cow in the meadow. Penelope signed, “Now, what should we do?”
“I sure don’t know, do you?” said the Little Boy Blue. They both signed and laid themselves down trying not to crush the yellow cowslips scattered throughout the field.
“Well if you ask me, you should make amends,” said the cow. Penelope blinked in surprise, and the Little Boy Blue looked up startled. “Aren’t you supposed to not be in the corn, I mean, be in the corn, but not supposed to be in the corn?! Haystacks! Now you’ve got me all jumbled up – how am I supposed to get a rhyme out of that? I suppose I could say, you look like a cat.”
“You could, but that wouldn’t be very nice,” responded the cow, “So how about you give up rhyming for a minute and give some thought to your predicament.”
“Well, that’s what we were doing before you interrupted, shucks, that don’t rhyme at all.”
“Suit yourself,” said the cow and she began mosey away. “Wait,” cried Penelope, “What do you mean make amendments? I can’t unburn the forest.”
The cow looked over her shoulder, “That is only the first lesson. The second is learning how to fix our mistakes in spite of our handicaps.” And she sauntered off toward the corn field.
“I never liked that cow; no way, no how.”
“Now, wait a minute, she might have a good idea,” said Penelope, “It’s worth a try anyway; we don’t have any other ideas.”
The Little Boy Blue was still a little bit huffy, but he agreed to climb up on Penelope’s back and they flew to the place where the forest had been. Penelope first invited all the animals that had been displaced by the fire to come and live with her on Penelapeke for how ever long they liked. It took her and Little Boy Blue until sundown to track down all the animals and to explain again and again that she was sorry for burning down the forest and that she wanted to help and that, no, she wouldn’t eat them on a whim even if they were conveniently located on her mountain. By the time they finished talking to the last field mouse (a feisty critter who threatened to bite her toe off if she went back on her word); it was time for the Little Boy Blue to go home for supper.
Penelope flew the Little Boy Blue back to his house and then up to her mountain for step two. She looked for areas overgrown with trees (there were quite a few) and uprooted the most crowded. All kinds of trees – cherries, maples, red oaks, marmalade trees, sassafras – as many as she could carry, she bore across the open sky. She planted them as best she could; then flew back for more. Once the other animals saw what she was doing, they helped plant the trees, leaving her more time to fly back and forth, each time bringing more foliage. With each trip, Penelope felt more delight. She felt freer, lighter, stronger, and happier to know that one day this would be a forest again, and she was helping to make that day come sooner. She laughed out loud with glee as she soared through the air.
The End
The Dragon and the Tortoise
- Posted by I. M. Dun on 10.06.2009 10:29 PM
Once upon a time there was a beautiful green dragon. He lived in a cave high in the cliffs of Wister. This dragon was quite impressive with his shiny emerald color and his iridescent scales. He was also very large for his age and therefore, he was the envy of most of his peers. Unfortunately, this prime specimen of dragon flesh had a serious lack of confidence all because his name was Precious. It didn’t seem to matter that his turquoise flame could scorch the area for yards. He would rarely venture out of his home. On this particular day, Precious’ friend Bouncy was on his way to visit. Bouncy was a huge tortoise from the foothills of Tare. It usually took him all day to climb the long tortuous road up to the cave. Earlier in the day, he had been distracted by a butterfly that flitted near the gooseberry bushes halfway up the incline. Gooseberries were not quite ripe yet and even though Bouncy knew this, he couldn’t resist trying some of the fruit. It tasted like sour crunchy broccoli. (Bouncy does not like broccoli, sour or not.) The butterfly had purple wings with sliver specks that flashed in the sun. Butterflies in the land of Nees come in all colors, but purple is especially rare.
Meanwhile back at the cave, Precious had an unexpected visitor. The great eagle who lived at the top of the mountain dropped by to chat. Now Squint had been friends with Precious since they had hatched together many springs ago. It had been a particularly long winter that year and all of the eggs had been collected into a huge pile to protect them from the deep snows that blanketed the land. As it was, even with dragon breath, only half of the eggs survived that year. Squint was telling a delightful tale about his cousin who lived in the topics. It was full of silly accidents and much drama. Squint was a good story teller and you could hear the laugher for miles around. The laughter shook the rocks along the road and annoyed poor Bouncy who was just past the halfway point. At this place along the trail there was a small stream that trickled up from an underground spring. Bouncy watched the frogs playing in the cool water while he waited for the heat of the day to ebb. After he realized that the sun was no longer directly overhead, he continued on his way. From across the Planes of Nor, Snowball the raven had heard the laughter and flew to join Precious and Squint. Snowball had just returned from the Great Sea. He described a huge monster with long tentacles that was trapped by the tide and thrashed in the shallow waves. The other two did not believe a word of his story because everyone knew that Snowball was a compulsive liar. They still “oohed” and “aahed” in the right places. Finally, all 3 became bored with the cave (and with each other) and the more adventurous two convinced Precious to take a short trip to catch some fish in the Boor River. The salmon were swimming up to spawn and it would be easy pickings.
As they flew into the sunset, Bouncy’s head could be seen cresting the last ridge.
The End.
Puff
- Posted by Douglas West on 10.04.2009 11:07 PM
Puff the magic dragon lived by the sea, and frolicked in the autumn mist in a land most find unpronounceable. Little Jackie Paper -who despite what you might think, was not made of paper- loved that rascal Puff. And brought him strings and sealing wax, and other stuff you might expect a boy of his age to be able to afford.
Together they would travel, not on a boat but just by simply flying.
Jackie kept a lookout while Puff played pranks on people at Loch Ness.
Noble kings and princes -out of either respect or self preservation- would bow whene’er they came. And as for pirate ships- they don’t really exist anymore, that’s just make-believe.
A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys.
Painted wings and giant’s rings, make way for more expensive toys.
One grey night it happened- Jackie paper came no more.
And Puff that mighty dragon…went freaking berserk.
His head was bent on destruction, major cities fell like rain.
Puff no longer went to play those silly childish games.
Jackie must have been a complete idiot because no one in their right mind would just abandon a dragon who befriended you.
Without his lifelong friend, Puff cast the world into an eternal era of perpetual fear and tyranny.
Pseudo
- Posted by Iris Kitall on 10.04.2009 11:06 PM
There once was a dragon named Pseudo. He resided deep within his master’s pocket, rarely venturing out into the open air. This lifestyle didn’t bother him as he was provided plentiful amounts of food and got to sleep as often as he pleased…which was a lot. As days went on he began to find the confines of his home a bit too confining, and his master couldn’t walk straight with as big as Pseudo was growing. So his master let him out into the world, this time with no intention of returning him to the comforts of his silk cave.
The two of them lived alone in a large stone tower which had what would seem like as many stories as Pseudo had scales. It didn’t take long for him to adjust to this spacious new atmosphere but he did still remain very close to his master, following him about wherever he went. In fact, he often stayed a little too close- tripping up his master’s feet and becoming a nuisance- and he was promptly scolded for it, but never severely .
One night while his master was away on an overnight scholarly research trip, Pseudo lay awake in his bed of straw. Staring sternly into the darkness, Pseudo’s eyes cut through the black shroud blanketing the chamber, like a knife through warm butter. Nothing escaped his perception. He sat, motionless, partially hidden in his bedding, waiting for the slightest bit of movement. Finally his patience paid off. A dark mass darted from underneath a looming bookshelf to the leg of a table and started moving up the wood. In the blink of an eye, Pseudo pounced from his place of hiding and snatched the moving object right from the surface. The creature squeaked and wriggled in vain, finding itself pinned between the ground and razor sharp claws. Pseudo liked to chase the mice in his free time and did a rather nice job of keeping the place rodent-free.
The two of them peered into each other’s eyes- one read fear; the other, hunger…and for a spell the room fell silent. Suddenly a resounding crash echoed from the floor above. Startled, Pseudo leapt up and the mouse took this opportunity to bolt back for the bookshelf, disappearing from sight. Pseudo fell still listening again for what could have possibly made the noise. He heard shuffling continue to come from upstairs followed by more crashes… it was coming from the master’s alchemy lab. Pseudo wasted no more time and hurried up the spiral stairwell leading to the commotion. Stopping at the second to top step, he looked into the room to see a cloaked humanoid figure standing stooped over a table stacked high with books and vials. It raced its hands in a hasty manor over the tabletop, sending the items plummeting to shatter on the floor. One vial flew towards Pseudo and struck him on the head, and he involuntarily let out a snarl in recoil. The figure froze, and slowly turned around. Pseudo quickly ducked down behind the top step. He could hear the floor boards creak under the weight of the intruder who slowly approached. When he was only feet away, Pseudo found his courage, and with only adrenaline to guide him, flung himself from hiding much like his previous hunt and used his wings to aim himself onto the strangers face. The man had only a split second to cry out- but with the flick of Pseudo’s tail, he instantly fell limp and collapsed to the floor…
The master returned the following sunny afternoon and opened his front door… to find a full grown man asleep on his floor. He recognized him instantly as his sworn rival. Being quite intelligent he put 2 and 2 together and figured the man must have broke in the steal some of his many coveted secrets, only to find himself on the bad end of a Pseudo Dragon’s tail… The master knew just who he’d be giving some extra special belly rubs to… The End
Herbert the Dragon
- Posted by Salamander on 10.04.2009 7:53 PM
Herbert was a pretty ordinary kid. He lived with his mother and father in a big cave behind a waterfall. Herbert was also a dragon. Herbert’s parents often went out and destroyed cities and brought back tasty people for him to eat, but today Herbert’s parents decided that it was time for him to destroy his first village.
“Herbert…” his mother said (his mother was big and red and roughly the size of two houses), “Today you are going to come with your father and I and we will show you how to find delicious people!”
Herbert’s dad nodded approvingly. He was blue and huge with shiny scales and large black claws. “That’s right son. My father taught me how to crush villages, and his father taught him, and HIS father taught him, and so on! Now we will continue the tradition.” He stood proudly and looked at his son, who didn’t seem convinced.
“But dad, I don’t wanna..” Herbert started. But his parents would have none of this.
“Buck up Herbert - this will be awesome!” His mother roared at him. Herbert’s dad laughed and they wagged their tails happily, sort of like dogs. Herbert sighed.
One by one they leaped out of the cave by the waterfall and into the air, flapping their strong wings to keep aloft. Herbert was the last one out, he took a running start and jumped. Herbert liked flying, it was easy and second nature. He wasn’t sure about this destroying business though.
Herbert enjoyed the feeling of the wind, the view of the land and seas below him and the exciting smells of the world. However, he got a bit annoyed whenever they flew through flocks of birds. Some of them weren’t very smart and smacked right into him, it took ages to clean up! Luckily they had no problems on their flight and they soon neared the village.
“We’ll be there soon Herbert, so get ready!” his mom called from ahead of him. Herbert groaned. He had no idea what to do. His dad had tried to explain it to him but it really made no sense. How were you supposed to tell who tasted good and who was just plain foul? It was hopeless!
His parents landed gracefully about a mile off from the village. Herbert realized they were stopping and dropped, skidding to a halt and tripping over himself. His parents laughed and he scowled, following after them as they moved through the grassy plains. He could see the village from there. There was a large wall around it, nothing a trio of dragons couldn’t handle.
Herbert’s mother made her way up to the gate of the village. Herbert could hear screams coming from the townsfolk; it hurt his ears a bit. He turned to his father. “We haven’t even done anything yet, why are they screaming so much?” Herbert asked.
His father laughed and replied. “Well it’s not like we’re visiting to ask for a cup of sugar. I think it’s more fun this way anyhoo.”
Herbert rolled his eyes and waddled over to his mom. She smiled at him and then turned towards the village. With a flick of her claw she poked the walls gate. It wobbled a little, and then fell down. It was kind of pathetic actually. His mother gave a flaming snort of success and was about to begin wreaking havoc when suddenly she stopped.
Confused, Herbert leaned in to see what had caused his mother to halt. A man was slowly making his way over to the (now flattened) gate, obviously having a hard time. He was covered head to toe in armor and seemed exhausted. By the time he reached the gate he nearly collapsed and tried to catch his breath. Herbert’s parents looked at each other and exchanged confused looks. His father moved closer out of curiosity, and they all leaned their heads in to inspect the man.
The man took a large breath and then straightened up, removing a sword from his hilt and waving it in the dragon families’ faces. They moved back a bit, surprised but not afraid. The man seemed to gain some confidence from this and began to speak.
“I, Prince Eric the Third and a Half, command you to stay back!” He shouted. “You’ve terrorized this village one too many times! We’ve done nothing to deserve this, but again and again you break down our walls and… and… EAT people!! You filthy dragons seem to think you can eat us! The idea itself is preposterous!” He continued to ramble on about human rights and about how unfair it was and how his mother always made pudding that he hated and so on. Herbert’s mother and father looked at each other with worried faces.
“I didn’t realize that they might get offended at the fact that we’re eating them!” His father said.
His mother nodded and replied, “I know! I always thought they wouldn’t mind much but I guess not…”
They expressed their concern to Herbert as the prince continued to blather. Herbert was getting rather annoyed actually. This was going to be his special day and then this chatterbox idiot decided to ruin everything. The prince was going on some tangent about his gold jewelry compared to his silver, when Herbert got an idea…
“Say, doesn’t it seem a bit quiet?” Herbert’s mother asked, breaking off the conversation. She was right. The decibel level seemed to have gone down, and the overall atmosphere was much more pleasant. She looked around to see what had changed and saw Herbert, apparently nibbling on something, with a pile of metal armor on the ground next to him. She walked over and realized what he was doing.
“HERBERT!! HOW DARE YOU!?” She roared. Steam came out of her nostrils as she stamped her feet. Herbert yelped in fright and cowered. “DIDN’T I TEACH YOU ANY MANNERS AT ALL!?! I can’t BELIEVE this! I’m ashamed!”
Herbert whimpered and said, “I’m sorry mom, honest! But he was so annoying and…” Herbert was cut off by her rampage.
“You should ALWAYS eat your crusts! I mean honestly, how could you just leave that pile of nutrients right there! I’m EXTREMELY disappointed Herbert!”
Herbert paused. What had she said?
“Wait... crusts?” He inquired.
“Yes your crusts!!” His mother yelled, pointing at the heap of empty armor on the ground. “It’s full of iron and minerals, you should always eat it!”
Herbert was astonished. “So, you’re not mad at me for eating that prince guy?”
His father spoke up. “Of course not, he was an idiot. Now listen to your mother and eat your crusts. Then we can finish up what we came here for.”
And so they destroyed the village anyways.
The End.
A Priest, a Rabbi, and a Dragon
- Posted by beezers on 10.03.24.2009 2:50 PM
There was a priest, a rabbi, and a dragon sitting in a cave. The dragon set the priest and rabbi on fire and ate them. When he was done the dragon thought to himself, "I wish I had used some barbeque sauce."
Dragon Haiku
- Posted by One of the Seven Deadly Sins on 10.03.2009 1:48 PM
Lord of all fire
With wings, teeth, and scales of red
The mighty beast comes
Dragon Amongst Men
- Posted by One of the Seven Deadly Sins on 10.03.2009 1:47 PM
Kiyen smiled as she crept down the dark hallway, evading torchlight and taking care not to step on anything that might make a noise. The thrill of the hunt always got Kiyen excited—probably too excited; but this is what she did. Trained for nearly two decades in the art of stealth and assassination, Kiyen was the best assassin in all the Northern Kingdoms—probably the Southern Kingdoms too, she mused.
She had been hired countless times to eliminate ruthless warlords, tyrannical kings, rising prophets, and wealthy merchants. No one was safe from her blade and everyone feared the name Kiyen. In fact, her infamy was just about the only thing that got her as excited as the hunt. Oh yes, the hunt…
Kiyen ducked out of sight as a pair of sleepy guards trudged by. Killing them would have been as easy as taking her next breath; however, her contract tonight was just to kill one man—no collateral damage—no witnesses. A more difficult contract to be sure, but still hardly a challenge at all for Kiyen. Who was the man she was sent to kill again? “Barthos the Dragon,” he was called. So named for his fiery temper and complete dominance on the field of battle, Barthos was indeed a “dragon” amongst men. However, even the great Barthos had to sleep sometime—and that is when Kiyen would strike. And then she would be Kiyen, slayer of Barthos the Dragon. Hmmm… She pondered to herself as she flipped herself up into the rafters, narrowly avoiding the gaze of a watch dog. “Kiyen, the Dragon Slayer,” she thought. That has a nice ring to it. She began to get more excited at the thought of claiming this new title.
Kiyen sprinkled powder on two guards who had been posted on either side of a great oaken door, knocking them out instantly. This castle was a nice one, but way too predictable. Even though Barthos set up his headquarters in the dungeons, it didn’t matter. Barthos had conquered this castle, which meant someone else had lived in it, which meant it was easy to get accurate schematics of the place, which meant this castle was a poor place to protect oneself from any assassin, much or less Kiyen. Surely Barthos knew that half the Northern Kingdoms wanted him dead? Why take the risk? He must have something up his sleeve…
Kiyen flipped back down from the rafters and quickly picked the lock before slipping into the room beyond the great oaken door. Beyond was dark, winding staircase, which Kiyen followed, down into the dungeons. At the bottom stood an immense dark hall, lit very faintly by sputtering candles which adorned the columns in the room. At the far end of the great hall stood a man, facing the far wall—looking into a mirror perhaps?
Kiyen began to slink closer, still avoiding light or any chance for this man to see her reflection in the mirror he might be looking through. Barthos might be a powerful warlord, but now he was at the mercy of the assassin’s blade, one-on-one was Kiyen’s specialty. It didn’t escape her notice that the ground seemed to shift under her weight, there was definitely something covering the floor—perhaps just for this purpose? Small pieces of metal or wood or bone would be an excellent way to keep the average assassin from crossing it silently. Unfortunately for Barthos, Kiyen was no ordinary assassin.
Kiyen crept closer, and began to draw her blade—a thin shortsword inked black and covered in lethal toxins. Suddenly she stopped; this man before her wasn’t a man at all—he was a boy! Perhaps she gasped, perhaps she accidentally shifted some of the metal on the floor; whatever the cause, the boy suddenly turned to look at her. He wore the armor of Barthos, and held the sword of Barthos, but surely this boy could not be the great Barthos, the Dragon! This little twerp is what the Northern Kingdoms were so upset over? Unbelievable! Kiyen almost laughed out loud at the sheer stupidity of this mission. Well, a contract was a contract, so this kid needed to die. She made a mental note to charge extra for all the powerful toxins she had made for this mission.
Kiyen leapt at the boy with unnatural speed. Like a grey and black blur she fell upon Barthos before he could even raise his sword. Her blade sank deep, but she whipped it out, struck again, and hopped away before Barthos could react. All that was left was to let the poison do its thing. She counted, three… two… one… and…
Nothing happened. She looked at the boy quizzically. How had this kid resisted two direct hits from a highly toxic blade? The stab wounds alone should have killed him, yet he stood there, unmoving, as if he were as resistant as the stone columns that surrounded them.
Then the boy spoke—or at least he opened his mouth. Coming forth was not the voice of a kid, but rather, the great booming voice of a king amongst men.
“Quite impressive Kiyen,” he said, “I would expect nothing less from someone of your caliber.” The boy grinned. “Because you have done so well, I will grant you a warrior’s pyre for your funeral.”
Kiyen took a step back, ready to dodge the inevitable counter-attack. But the boy dropped his sword to the ground, and ripped off his armor, like it was no more than a tattered shirt. Then, Barthos began to glow.
The room was flooded with brilliant golden light, and Kiyen could finally see why the floor moved. It was covered in thousands of coins and precious gems. Spare weapons and scroll cases littered the room as well. There was even an occasional suit of armor and shield. A roar sounded out, and Kiyen quickly turned her attention back to the boy.
Barthos was growing in size. His hair was twisting and taking the form of a pair of great horns. His arms and legs became giant clawed appendages and a pair of beautiful bat-like wings burst from his shoulders. A giant tail grew from his tail bone and his face elongated and changed into the face of a reptilian monster. Finally, his glowing yellow skin changed into beautiful golden scales, each as finely polished as a mirror. The sputtering candles cast their light over this majestic creature, and the great monster’s scales magnified it a hundredfold.
Barthos, the Dragon stood before a terrified Kiyen, a majestic monster at least 30ft tall, and three times as long. The great beast stared at her for what felt like centuries to Kiyen. Next, Barthos spoke, “Now I shall grant you death, Kiyen—a funeral pyre.”
Then it breathed…
A Small Problem
- Posted by Monochromatic on 10.03.2009 11:13 AM
The sun was shining brightly from its perch at the top of the sky. There wasn’t a single cloud in sight and a gentle breeze occasionally rustled the leaves and trees. The weather was what many would call ‘perfect’.
Of course that’s what the weather man had promised it’d be like.
With a grumble Ignito gave his wet claw another shake, scattering water droplets all over the front of the car. Russel jumped back in his seat in a vain attempt to miss any stray droplets, nostrils flaring indignantly.
“Oh like you aren’t drenched already.” The smaller dragon grumbled, his blunt nose crinkling in annoyance. It always seemed like something went wrong whenever they were heading out to a job. Be it the weather, their mode of transportation or anything else that could possibly go wrong, things just went… well, wrong.
Russel shot his squat partner a glare before going back to brushing off whatever water he could from his scales. Of all the times to be sent out, the two had been given the task of answering a distress call during a rainstorm. The two hadn’t expected their magical investigations to be full up of pest control calls.
On the brighter side the heavy rain meant the two didn’t have to worry about disguising themselves until they arrived at their destination. On a more sour note this also meant there was a lot of rain. Tons and tons of rain.
Leaning forward to try and get a better look through the murky front window, the stocky orange dragon pulled the car to a stop. Well, he hoped this was the place. If he was wrong there’d better be a dry cave to come home to when this was over. Shifting in his seat, Ignito gave the dark red dragon beside him a look.
“I don’t think I need to remind you what happened last time when you ‘accidentally’ ate that pixie?” Russel had enough of an idea to give a sheepish look.
Ignito gave a stiff nod and then turned back to the car door. “Right then. You know the drill. Don’t touch anything unless you know something’s there and be sure to disguise yourself fully this time. I don’t want another person screaming their lungs off because you forgot to hide your tail…”
Pursing his scaly lips at the memory, the orange dragon shook his head again before slapping his claws together. With a pop the stout dragon was replaced with an equally stout man dressed in a dark suit, matching bowler, and a rather bushy handlebar mustache.
Mimicking Ignito, Russel’s thin, scaly body disappeared with another loud pop and now appeared as a lanky young man dressed in a matching dark suit. Giving the thin man a look up and down, Ignito gave a satisfied grunt and – with a little difficulty – pulled open the car door and quickly made his way down the pathway just outside.
The sprint to the oak door took no more then half a minute, but by the time both the transformed dragons arrived they were both soaked. Grumbling, the smaller of the two reached up and rapped his knuckles harshly against the door a few times. A muffled crash could be heard from within the house over the drumming of the rain and after a few minutes the door opened wide enough for an old woman to poke her head out.
She peered at them curiously, though there was an evident look of panic behind her surprise.
“Are you the ‘Super Sleuths of the Suspicious or Seemingly Supernatural’?” She whispered, eyes surveying the surrounding area wildly. Her behavior wasn’t unusual for a client. Not many people wanted their neighbors to know they had a less then normal pest lurking in their house.
The squat man gave a tight smile and nodded his head in greeting. “Quite right ma’am, though we’re more commonly known as ‘The Sleuths’. Saves a bit of time and isn’t as complicated to say.”
The woman blinked rapidly, as if not entirely comfortable with this information before giving a curt nod. “Yes, yes of course. Do come in. Quickly now please…”
The two needed no more encouragement and scuttled in behind the pale woman, relieved to be out of the rain. The old woman was watching them shaking themselves off with a mixed look of wariness and worry, hands clasped to her chest tightly.
“You’re sure you will be able to help Mr.-?”
“Wallace. And this is my assistant, Gregory.” The taller of the duo gave the old woman a large grin, showing off rather uneven teeth as he shook his arm free of rainwater. “He has a slight throat cold so he can’t speak at the moment.” Ignito gave the younger man a meaningful look out of the corner of his eye before focusing back on their client. “And you are-?”
“Mrs. Simons.”
“Yes, quite right. Now what exactly are you having a problem with?”
The question looked to have hit a mark of some sort, as the moment he brought the subject up tears sprung up in Mrs. Simons eyes. With a loud sniff she patted the corners her doleful brown eyes with a newly produced hankie.
“It’s horrible! Absolutely horrible! I’ve called all sorts of people to try and get rid of them but they always end up getting away! No one believes me any more! They just think I’m making it up now! But I can’t sleep without waking up to the sound of them scurrying every where. In the walls, on the floor, in the attic…”
“What’s running around Mrs.-”
“RATS!” She burst out, letting out a wail and another loud sniff. She dabbed frantically and her eyes now. Ignito and Russel shared confused expressions.
“Rats? Mrs. Simons, I believe any sort of exterminator could’ve taken care of those.”
But Mrs. Simons was shaking her head and making rapid movements with her hands.
“No, no! These aren’t regular rats, I could’ve shooed them out of the house ages ago if they were. These rats have wings I tell you, WINGS! And they’re scorching up my house! Just look at my dining room! My kitchen!”
Dragging them each by the hand into the nearest room, the two investigators were surprised to see brown marks peppering the bright mint green wallpaper that lined the kitchen. The floor had a few dark marks on it as well, as if Mrs. Simons had dropped an extremely hot pot and let it singe the tile before picking it up. Ignito wasn’t sure if he was disturbed or calmed by the familiar scent of burnt wood though Russel looked to favor the latter. The thin man was gazing around the kitchen with a bemused expression.
“Those certainly aren’t your normal rats then…” Ignito murmured, taking a step closer to the wall to get a better look at a slightly smoldering hole. Mrs. Simons gave another sniff and began to wail, leaving Russel to awkwardly pat the old woman’s shoulder as Ignito poked and prodded at the holes.
Giving a contemplative hum Ignito moved into the next room, Russel leading a crying Mrs. Simons after him. The squat man waddled around the room peering over and under objects, mustache quivering every so often as he mumbled things under his breath. It was only when the heavyset man gave a startled yelp did Mrs. Simons stop her moaning.
“What is it?” She cried, eyes darting to every corner of the dining room.
Ignito didn’t give her a reply and instead cursed loudly. Shaking his red hand above his head he howled, “Gregory! The kitchen!”
A small flash of white dashed out from under the dining room table and into the adjacent kitchen. Russel tore after the white blur while Mrs. Simons jumped onto a nearby chair screeching. Ignito was soon running after Russel to the kitchen where the sound of pots and pans falling to the ground and clanging against one another could be heard.
A sudden burst of red met the small man as he entered the kitchen, only able to give a loud yell of surprise before falling onto his back in the doorway, mustache slightly brown at the edges. Russel yelped as his jacket sleeve caught alight and only continued his mad chase after he’d blew it out.
The creature was amazingly fast, zipping between Russel’s legs and dancing across Ignito’s wide stomach before disappearing into a hole by the stove. For such a small creature it was acting like it was having a good time evading capture…
Giving a grunt as he sat up, Ignito rubbed his mustache while shooting an annoyed look at the nearby hole. Righting himself, the short man glanced towards the wall. There - he could see it! Every other minute a small patch of white fur appeared at a different hole that dotted the wall. It was climbing up to the attic!
“Gregory, the walls!”, Ignito shouted as he launched himself at one of the holes. There was a surprise squeak on the other side and the rat now started climbing faster. It was like trying to play whack-a-mole, except the mole was a rat. Or that’s what they presumed it was.
With each attempt to grab the rodent every hole became bigger. Soon they were all the size of a baseball, then a grapefruit, until eventually there was very little separating the two investigators from the furry creature. Very little wall that is.
There it was! The middle hole! The two men jumped to try and make a grab at the rodent but the white creature had another idea in mind. It leapt from its hiding place and over Ignito and Russel’s heads. As if held up by some sort of invisible string the rodent landed rather gracefully on the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen; if they were at the circus the little guy would’ve gotten a large round of applause.
The rat twitched its long whiskers at Ignito and Russel and gave a loud squeak. Now that it had come to a halt, they could both clearly see a set of wings protruding from the creature back. Were those… dragon wings?
Mrs. Simmons chose that moment to appear however, and between the horrified look between her kitchen wall and the rat, she started screeching again. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! ALL OF YOU!”
Snapping out of their reverie the duo jumped and scrambled towards the front door, not bothering to notice a surprised squeak that followed them. Ignito and Russel were just about falling over each other as they ran out the front door, arms raised over their heads to shield them from the mass of utensils and cries of “GET OUT!” that followed them to the car.
Russel yelped as a large spatula slapped him right across the face before he ducked into the car. Without so much as a second thought Ignito started the car and pelted away from the sidewalk, eyeing the rear view mirror only when he was sure the house was long gone behind them.
With a loud exhale the duo sunk into their seats, their human appearances disappearing with loud pops. After a long silence, Ignito and Russel gave a start at the sound of a squeak behind them. The two dragons turned around wildly in their seats, their eyes just about jumping out of their sockets.
Sitting quite contently in the back seat was a white rat, its small black eyes staring between them curiously. Like before, it was obvious the rat was nothing like any one would come across in a pet shop. Two small wings lay folded across its semi scale covered back and an equally scaly green tail sat at its side.
Unperturbed by the shocked silence, the rodent sprung forward and, with a flap or two of its wings, landed with a soft thud against the dashboard, sniffing the window excitedly. Ignito and Russel exchanged bemused expressions.
“Well…” Ignito muttered as he watched the dragon rat curl up on the dashboard, “We have been looking for a mascot.”
A Story With An Amazing Title That Is Much Too Amazing To Reveal
- Posted by Mr. Puff M. Dragon on 10.02.2009 5:40 PM
Once upon a time, in a land far away, a land known at Wisconsin, lived a dragon. This dragon was different from ALL the other dragons for one reason only: he never ate cheese. Now Wisconsin dragons are known for their cheese, spending countless weeks and months making cheese to sell to tourists, but this dragon, named Chuck, was lactose intolerant (gasp!!!). The other dragons though this was HORRENDOUS! Never in the history of dragons had there been a dragon who couldn't eat cheese! "He's a weirdy" they said, then laughed at him, and threw carrot sticks at his belly. "Go eat some carrots you weird non-cheese eating weirdo that doesn't eat cheese!" This made chuck sad. But one day, he had an idea! If he went down to his local Walgreens, he could get medicine to take that would allow him to eat all dairy products! He ate some, and then he ate all the cheese he wanted! And then he made friends. THE END!
The Forever Known Fountain
- Posted by AKA on 10.02.2009 5:39 PM
One day these blue and orange dragons with yellow scales and green spikes were at the Forever Known Waterfall and the blue dragon was drinking the purified water, when out of no where he saw a shiny purple gem at the bottom. So, he grabbed it and realized it was magic!! This gem granted him six wishes, but unfortunately for this blue dragon he never got to make these six wishes because the orange dragon thought the gem was a blueberry and ate it...
The Unnamed Creature
- Posted by Grant Ham on 09.30.2009 8:42 PM
Long ago and far away an unnamed creature roamed the hills and plains. She was a happy creature, large, with a very long trunk-like spiked tail.
She was always dragging her tail over stumps and stones while playing with her friends. Her playful friends would tease her about dragging her tail, which very often got in their way and tripped them. The creature and her friends would laugh about her dragging tail. One day one of her friends said, "I know what we can call you, Dragon, because you are always dragging your tail." So for evermore the unnamed creature was know as Dragon, as were all her offspring.
The End.
Old Brown Shoe
- Posted by Morter on 09.28.2009 5:37 PM
I’m only telling this story because it has a happy ending.
Recently, during my usual rounds, I lost my favorite left shoe. In fact, it was my favorite of the pair I was wearing. And the worst part about this unfortunate incident is that I knew it was happening almost immediately, but I was helpless to do anything about it. You see, it had come untied and slipped off during one of my more vigorous down strokes and disappeared into the clouds below. I dove to retrieve it, but obviously misjudged the strength of the winds beneath the cloud cover. As I emerged below the clouds, I was thrust into a head over tail tumble. And by the time I recovered my balance and sense of direction, it was too late… my shoe had fallen a mile into the backyard of a human. And the yard was protected by a noisy, yapping pipsqueak of a dog.
I was left having to take note of the yard, so I could return later that night to get my shoe when the dog was asleep. With some hesitance, I began my ascent towards the clouds, seeking the calm air above, occasionally glancing back to watch the shrinking yard vanish into the expanse of the city. The rest of my flight home I spent beating myself up over not securely tying my shoe earlier that day. I also started warning myself how painful it will be to have to break in a new pair of shoes. I mean, this pair was perfect… with the left shoe beyond perfect. It was made of sturdy leather, and my three forward-pointing toes fit through the perfectly spaced holes that I had spent so long getting just right. Each hole allowed my curved claws their freedom to extend and dig into earth and rock as necessary, and the shoe’s heavy rubber sole protected the tender underside of my foot. The right shoe was similar, but my pinky toe seemed just a little too close to my middle toe, since the holes on this shoe had stretched open more than on the left one. Additionally, my backward-pointing, opposable toe felt cold and naked. I missed the snug feel of leather around it and the extra support the thickened, rubber heel offered.
I just shook my head each time I thought about my loss, wanting to turn around, but held by the risk of being spotted by a human. How I missed my most favorite old brown shoe.
Worse news followed after bad. The winds had gathered up into a full blown gale force storm, leaving me grounded for the night. And the following day was just as disappointing. I had previously taken the right shoe off when I returned home and put on my slippers. But the day and a half in slippers was not good for my arches, so that night I spent soaking my feet in Epson salts and warm water. Though my feet were soothed, my thoughts grew more irritated at the whole annoying situation I found myself in. I mean, after all, I’m a dragon. Things like this just shouldn’t happen. I’ve lived too long to be beaten down by winds and a pesky little dog. Plus, I imagined that dog was chewing on my shoe this very instant.
That was when I decided to stop sulking and be proactive about my plan of attack.
So that brings us to where my story started. Tonight I stand in that backyard with my favorite old brown shoe snuggly tied on my left foot. And the happiest part... that yapping dog is resting silently in my belly.
“Burp.”
Henry
- Posted by S.P. Marg on 09.28.2009 1:22 AM
Henry was your typical green dragon. He was very large, had a spiked tail, breathed fire and loved to play in the mud. The spikes on his tail ran half way up his back and were always scraping against low overhanging tree limbs and branches. One day he got the brilliant, he thought, idea to go through the car wash to clean off all the mud and to relieve the itching caused by low vegetation. What he didn’t count on was the effect the overhead rotating brush had on the tips of his spikes. It wore them off and from that day on he was always the butt of pointless dragon stories.
Midas
- Posted by Nomdei Plum on 09.24.2009 10:56 AM
I’m lucky to be alive. Didn’t seem that dangerous at the time. Mysterious, maybe, but messing with Dionysus, well, he’s a fickle god, and one shouldn’t mess with a fickle god. But I digress, and I’m assuming you want to hear about Midas.
First of all, Midas isn’t a king. Everyone thinks he was, but that was just the myth talking. And Myth is more fickle than Dionysus, if that is possible. No, Midas isn’t a king, Midas is a Dragon. Yeah. Big, fire breathing, scaly, flying snake. Lazy slob, if you ask me.
But, then, maybe I should start from the beginning.
It was a Saturday. Delphi, Greece. I’d just left the local library, after 13 hours of searching the scrolls and old tomes lining the basement walls there. Wasn’t much to find. It isn’t as if everything in there hasn’t been catalogued and translated already. Still, reading the original ancient Greek gives you a better feel for the material. And asthma from all the dust.
Anyway, it was a beautiful starry night, a couple of hours after sunset. I could see Hercules coming up over the horizon, chasing the bear like he has for 3000 years. You’d think he’d have given up by now. My mind was drifting, thinking in Greek, like it does when I’m studying. I was thinking about stopping into Pistos for some Ouzo, maybe a little dinner. I turned right past a flower and greeting card store, down a narrow alley, making my way past darkened doorways over clean cobblestones. As I passed the first doorway on the right, I heard a whispering sound and felt warm air blow out of the doorway. I stopped, peering into the darkened room beyond the archway. There appeared to be no door there, just an open arch with darkness beyond, and faintly, in the background, 2 dim red eyes staring at me. Hair raised on the back of my neck, but I didn’t seem to be able to turn away.
“Hello?” I’m speaking in ancient Greek, of course. Didn’t mean to, but it just came out that way.
The whispering began to take on definition. I smelled brine, and olives. The room beyond the arch seemed to stretch out away from me, and I seemed to be propelled down it as it went. I put my hands out to steady myself, but it was dark all around me. The voice took on definition, but sounded like an old, tired hag, speaking like me, in ancient Greek.
The beast sleeps soundly o’er its far
Below Dionysus’ theatre laid bare
A hero finds the ancient song
In catacombs stones and dust laid long
And finds the gold, that wicked crutch
Supporting greed, the Midas’ touch
With a long warm burst of salty air, the corridor unstretched as quickly as before, and I found myself, dizzy, shaking my head, standing back in the alley. The wall before me was bare stone, with only the faint outline of an archway.
I mean, come on. Seriously? The Oracle of Delphi? She’s been hiding all these years in the back of a knockoff Hallmark flower shop? I always did think her prophesies were cheesy.
My head cleared after a few seconds, but didn’t feel hungry any more. Certainly didn’t want to drink anything harder than water. So, I went back to the apartment I was renting on the north end of town, and crashed for the night.
***
I awoke the next morning with the prophesy ringing around in my head. Tried to ignore it all day, but knew that eventually I was going to have to do something about it. After reading all that Ovid and Homer and ancient Greek over the years, there’s one thing I’ve learned. You don’t go messing with gods. You can ignore a prophecy, or chase it down the street and stomp on it, but either way, its coming at you like it or not. Might as well deal with it head on, and it might even pay off big. Not that I believed in this stuff. Not yet, anyway.
I went back to the library. The basement of the place was an old crypt. All the tombs had been sealed over a couple thousand years ago. It was dry, dusty, but pretty nice for a crypt. The walls were stone, and looked like a cobblestone street turned on its side. You could see the outlines of the old crypts in the walls.
It took me 4 days to find it. I started moving bookshelves and old tables, rubbing and pushing old stones. Late on the 4th day, I was standing on the steps leading up out of the place. I’d cleaned up, swept, reorganized everything in the room. Found nothing. I was getting ready to turn out the light and leave for the night when I saw it. In the floor of the room, the newly cleaned stones gleamed in the light. A shape revealed itself in the cobblestone pattern on the floor, that of a bunch of grapes. Dionysus’ sign. After a few minutes on my hands and knees, I noticed the final grape at the bottom was itself a loose stone. I pryed it loose. Down in the recess, I pulled out a long scroll, brittle with age. Opening it carefully, it was clearly written in ancient Greek. Much of it was missing, with the paper crumbling to dust under the ink. What was left said:
…and Midas in his glory
left the story to the ages
bound beneath his dais
Dionysus revenge laid claim
To the glory of old Olympus
The champion fell to…
Succommed to his great vice
Never to rise again…
Story...
Unless the hero…
Cat…
Fire….
...gold in the world...
…slumber…
So, this was the song the Oracle mentioned. The dais is probably the center of the Teatro di Dionysus here in Delphi. But what was Midas doing here? He was supposedly a King on the island of Crete. What did he have to do with Dionysus?
The next morning, I headed down to the old Theatre. It sat overlooking a rocky cliff over a steep valley. The theatre itself was closed for the day, it being Sunday. No tourists were around. I hiked into the theatre bowl up the dusty path from the parking lot. Took a brief walk around, then stood over the cliff at the edge of the crumbling dais. It looked like a treacherous climb down the cliff wall. Loose rock everywhere. Still, if there was a tomb under this Dais, it was worth the risk. I made my way under the guard rail cable, and began climbing down. About 50 feet down, I noticed a narrow crease in the rock to my left. I traversed over, and wriggled my way in. It was a narrow passageway down and into the mountain, which eventually opened up in to a passageway, with clearly carved steps in the rock. I turned on my flashlight, and followed it as it twisted and turned a couple of hundred feet down, then opened up into a huge cavern. The floor of the cavern was covered in gold nuggets, about the size of a baseball. The entire cavern, top to bottom was also gold. Unbelievable amounts of gold. And lying in the center of a huge pile in the center was the most unbelievable thing of all, a 190 foot dragon curled up, motionless.
No, not motionless, asleep. He was covered in gold and greenish scales, like old copper on a sailing ship. He snored slightly. The room smelled of sulfer, and it was warm. His belly faintly glowed red, like coals in a fire. Uh, oh. I definitely didn’t want to wake him up. Turning to leave, I bumped a pile of nuggets, and they went clattering to the floor. An entire enourmous pile of gold cascaded down from the wall to my right, covering the entrance I just came it. I moved out of the way of the avalance to keep from getting crushed. The sound of it reverberated around the gold room. Still the dragon didn’t wake up. Hmmm. I started carefully clearing a path back to the crevasse, trying not to make a lot of noise. Still, the dragon didn’t wake up. I eventually decided he wasn’t going to and just started tossing gold boulders over my shoulder.
Still, he didn’t wake up.
I ducked into the crevasse entrance. No way he could get into here. I tossed a rock at him. It landed 15 feet from him and scitterred to a stop up against his tail. No response. I tossed one harder. No response. I picked up a rock and threw it hard, hitting him in the head. No response. He just laid there, snoring. I tried two more times, with no response.
I suppose that is when all the gold really went to my head. I was here with billions, maybe trillions in gold, and nothing to stop me from taking all of this away. I walked over to the dragon. Still asleep. I climbed up the mound he was sleeping on and put my hand on his tail to steady myself, and that is when it happened. I heard what sounded like a harp chord, and big hearty laugh, and I turned to gold.
The End.
Dragon Tales
- Posted by Out Of Town on 09.22.2009 7:19 PM
There was once a hapless lizard, not actually a lizard but a skink. It was his good fortune to have been hatched out on the river bank of a delightful stream. Since very young he had appreciated the warm rays of the sun. He also liked the nice blue grass tickling his little toes. He had always been able to drink from the Clearwater and preferred a spot between the rocks to take his daily drinks.
This particular day he noticed that the water seemed to have a queer taste. He wasn't aware that a passerby had thrown out a bottle of pills and one of them had become lodged in the rock crevice. He also didn't know that the pill was a growth hormone and daily he was getting a small dose of this medicine as he drank from his favorite water spot.
One day this five lined blue tail skink began to grow at an alarming rate. The cave that he stayed in under the rocks soon became too small for him and he had to move to a bigger one. Something else was happening that he could not explain. As he waved his blue tail a strange yellow red reflection was scattered in all directions.
The growth of the hapless lizard soon reached gigantic proportions. Also the fiery yellow-red beam that blast from his tail when it waved in the sun became intense. Even the trees around the cave where the strange beast lived were taking on a scorched appearance.
The overgrown animal had all the neighbors up and down the river alarmed by the strange light. They would see the light flashing and some of them thought that a nearby neighbor might be trying to unnerve them. The property around the river had been increasing in value and some thought that the strange light was meant to run them away from their homes so that more of the land might be developed.
Other neighbors who had feuds with their next-door ones simply thought that they were trying to get back at them for some harm they had caused.
The alarm in the area had also spread to the air. Jet planes were flying overhead in route to the airport nearby and reported laser lights being focused on them as they were starting to land. The Federal aviation authorities were called in to find the source of the laser lights but every time they got close to the lizard’s lair he would simply go into his cave and the lights would go away. Nobody could catch him making the laser beams.
After several sightings of the laser beams by the jet pilots it was thought to be a terrorist act. The FBI came to check the potential crime scene. Once again they had trouble finding the lizard now turned Dragon.
One day a brown haired, brown eyed little girl was walking in the woods. The sweet song that she was singing hypnotized the giant lizard and he wanted to know more about the beautiful sound. As he sneaked through the large oak trees to get a closer look, the little girl saw the flashes of light from his iridescent tail. This gave him away. The little girl wasn't startled (I’ve always said she liked reptiles) so she sang even more beautifully, cautiously making her way toward him. The lizard rolled over on his back and played dead so that she could rub his under body. She knew immediately that he had been the source of everyone's concern and she also knew that she must conceal him from all the people who wanted to hurt him.
She had a friend who was a immigrant from Mexico and in the country illegally. He was supposed to take a truck to Honduras the following day so she persuaded her friend to drive to the woods to pick up the giant lizard. Singing beautifully she was able to coax her new friend out and they persuaded him to get in the truck where they covered him up with a large shiny tarpaulin. Soon he was on his way toward the far border with instructions to leave the Dragon in the rainforest in Costa Rica. That is where he dwells today happily in the jungle. If you would like to see him you can go down there and just look for the Orange glow in the sky in the West as the sun is going down and there you will find him.