Medievia Mudslinger

September 11, 2003

The Dragon Slayer by Erde

There once lived a great Dragon Slayer, fierce and terrible, and with skills that were legendary. He led the people of the land in many wars against dragonkind. After a battle he would emerge victorious, with the head of the slain dragon held aloft for all to see, and none disputed his talents. The clantown where he lived relied on his legendary skills to protect them (and for the tourism, for they made a fortune off of all the people who came to visit the many shrines and monuments that they had erected for their local hero).

When his fame first began to spread, the dragons considered him only a bit of an inconvenience, like an itch that they couldn't quite reach (all except for the dragons he killed who, before they died, thought of him with much loathing). After all, there was hardly a day that passed that some young hero wasn't setting out to prove his worth as a dragon slayer, why should this one be any different? But this Slayer was different. He was not only annoyingly persistent in his quest to exterminate dragons, but he also had great hair. In fact, there was much talk that his hair was really too nice, and some dragons hated him more for his wonderful locks than they did for his incessant killing (except of course for the ones that he killed, who minded the killing very much, though they hated his hair too).

Over the span of many years, it became apparent that this upstart with his unbelievably stylish mane was actually a bit of a problem. In fact, if he kept at it he might actually become a threat to all dragons everywhere. For the first time in as long as any living dragon could remember, a council was called. All of the dragons all across the country slipped secretly from their lairs, and gathered in a very secret and unknown island (an island so secret and unknown that half the dragons forgot how to get there and had to stop and ask for directions).

Once all of the dragons were gathered, the meeting began. It was a long drawn out affair because, on the whole, dragons have fairly short attention spans. There was much bickering over who amongst them was the strongest of all attending. In the end, the oldest and wisest of them proposed that those dragons who couldn't stop bickering about who amongst them was indeed the strongest should fly to the town of the hunter, and each in turn attempt to slay the dragon slayer, bringing back a few of his curly locks as proof of their success.

Such a bold and dangerous mission as this cause a great number of the dragons to declare that they were, in fact, quite feeble. A few of them suddenly began to feel under the weather and decided that a few days lair-rest would have them right as rain again. A good handful conveniently rushed off to use the little dragons room, instead of sticking around to back up all of the big statements that they had made only a few moments ago. In the end there were only three still willing to face the test. Before the council there stood two tall aged dragons, their scales shining ruby and gold respectively in the dim torchlight. Beside them, barely visible over the top of the massive dragon table, was a young and slightly mangy dragon whose scales reflected the light with a rather sickly green tint. There was much scoffing and chuckling behind claws at the third entry, but it was his hide up for grabs, so in the end it was decided that he could participate.

A day passed, and in the morning the ruby dragon flew to the home of the Dragon Slayer where she roared out her challenge. There was much panic in the town, not because they didn't think that the Slayer would be victorious, but because their brave hero was off that day killing the ruby's kin. None of the lowly peasants had ever picked up a sword, let alone slain a dragon. When they finally pushed a sniveling sorry sight of a man out the front gate to deliver the message, the dragon apologized, roared out the time that she would return the next day, and promptly ate the messenger as compensation for her troubles.

The sun peeked over the horizon the next morning and saw that every villager in the town was already up. The sun briefly considered going back down again, since no one had bothered to wait for him to come up in the first place, but then he remembered that he still owed the moon a rather handsome sum of money, so he decided it was best to keep moving. Far below the sun, the clantown was hustling and bustling with busy people. It had been decided the day before by the wisest of the city folk that the best way to defeat this dragon was to cheat.

Upon his return, the Dragon Slayer agreed, for his entire band of dragon slaying chums were busy nursing their hangovers after yet anther week of successful carnage. He pretended that he'd thought the whole thing up himself, and began overseeing the construction of a shallow pit that was dug beyond the city walls. As the sun heaved himself off of the horizon and wobbled uncertainly in the air at the very start of the day, the pit was ready, and many exhausted citizens were affixing great sharpened beams of wood securely into the ground.

The only person who wasn't yawning and nodding off that fine morning was the Dragon Slayer himself, who had tottered off early to get a good night's rest. He had been up for several hours, getting his hair to look just so, before he had returned to the pit to check progress. He strutted the length of the great hole, calling out orders that no one listened to, until the last great wooden beam had been secured and the last tired townsman had climbed out of the hole

The women emerged out of the dim great hall, blinking and shading their eyes from the sun, carrying between them a great bundle of cloth. They had spent all night smearing it with dirt, and weaving grasses and twigs into the fabric, until it looked very much like the earth itself. It was a long and laborious process the cover the hole with the large cloth, and there was much panic then a dragon's shadow passed over the proceedings. As it turned out, it was only a small, mangy green dragon that was simply flying by. Since the hard working people of the town had told the Slayer to shove it hours ago, he jumped on a horse and rode off after the dragon, waving one of his twin daggers menacingly and yelling his challenge. The small and rather pathetic creature only watched with mild amusement as it flew away.

Finally, the pit was finished and the signs of the work that had been done were cleared away. The Dragon Slayer was hunted down and herded back into the city gates. A few unlucky people were forced to stay awake in order to keep the Slayer from wondering into his own trap. The Slayer patted down a few stray hairs he'd disrupted on his noble ride as he told his weary Dragon Slayer-sitters all about his victory to come.

The ruby dragon arrived precisely when she said she would and again roared out her challenge. The city gates creaked slowly open to reveal a man dressed all in black, his twin daggers strapped at his hips. He took a few slow, calculated steps forward and narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the dragon. The great red dragon rose up onto her back legs and scorched the ground to her left with a great ball of flames. It was lucky for the Slayer that the flames missed the great cloth by only a few short inches or he probably would have been eaten by the first dragon to ever come to challenge him. The flames, however, did not touch the cloth, and the dragon gave a few great beats of her great wings, rose slightly into the air and landed just in front of the Slayer. To her great, if not short-lived, confusion the ground gave through and she was immediately impaled upon hundreds of great wooden beams, which caused her to die rather instantaneously. The Dragon Slayer rushed forward with his two rather tiny daggers, and poked the dragon a few times to ensure that there was no doubt to the role he had played in the death of the beast.

After a good day's rest, the town's folk woke to find a triumphant Dragon Slayer, and a big mess. It took the better part of the afternoon to clear away what was left of the big ruby dragon, and once she was gone there was much arguing about what exactly should be done with the great hole, though most people agreed once the stakes were removed it would make quite a nice pool. Unfortunately, in the middle of the discussion, a great, gold dragon gave a deafening roar before sweeping low over the crowd. He landed squarely in the middle of the hole, which he had failed to see due to his stunning, crowd-buzzing aerial acrobatics.

There was a bit of a stunned silence, which the Slayer broke by shoving his way through the gathering and poking the dead golden dragon with his minute daggers. Most everyone in the town decided to ignore the absurdity of the whole affair, and groan at the thought of repeating the task of removing yet another dragon corpse. However, the improbability of two dragons falling into the same hole in one day caught up with one of the young men. He went quite mad and spent the rest of the day insisting that the sky was falling.

In the end, it was decided that as long as dragons were going to keep showing up and goring themselves, the great hole in the ground would be left as it was. Again the clantown's people set to work removing the newly dead dragon, bit by little bit. The hole would stay, but the corpse would not. As the good people began the daunting task, the Dragon Slayer slipped away to enjoy his victory far from the toils of the common man.

He was sitting in the town square, thinking up a wonderful tale to tell the next bunch of tourists about how he once killed two dragons in one day, single-handedly saving the entire town from its demise when he noticed a shadow drift over the sun. Very perturbed that something might actually come between him and a good tan he glanced up, fist raised to curse the cloud that blocked the light. Unfortunately that was the last thing the Slayer ever did. To his shock, he raised his fist into the open jaws of a rather small, emerald-green dragon, who was swooping down out of the sky. The victorious dragon snapped the Dragon Slayer up and flew off into the sunset.

"And that children, is how I became known as the strongest dragon in all the land." The great, green dragon pointed to the wall where he kept all his trophies. In one corner, wearing a very surprised look, was the head of a young man with absolutely unbelievable hair.

"Tell us another story Papa!" a gaggle of little green drakelings chorused.

The old dragon sat back, thinking for a moment, and he grinned. "Did I ever tell you about the time that I was declared the best looking dragon in all of Medievia?"

The moral of this story? If the dragons told the tales they'd win from time to time too.

Author's Note: The idea for this story came from the portal mob for the old 59 clantown. The story is set in that town, but since The Defenders of Divine Providence have recently disbanded and the clan town no longer exists, I didn't make any references to it in the story itself. Special thanks to the creators of 59 for the inspiration for this quirky little tale.


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