Story Challenge, Day 4

Got sidetracked yesterday and didn't get the day's story challenge published, so here it is. The prompt for the day was to write a story featuring the most horrible magic you could think of. This might not be the most horrible magic ever, but it plays well into the next story prompt, so it's what I went with.

Blood Magic

Sothus smiled as he watched the images in the cauldron playing out before him. It was too bad about the human knight, but the ape leader who killed him, now there was a subject with potential. Yes, his lifeblood would be very useful indeed. Sothus waved his hand across the image and it disappeared, leaving only the dark red of the blood that filled the cauldron.

The ape’s power did not surprise the blood mage. He’d known the witch who’d enchanted its forefathers, and she’d been quite the impressive spellcaster. It was too bad about the messy end she and her sister had come to. But no time to reminisce. There was work to be done! Leaving his study, he crossed the hall to where his prisoner was chained to the wall. It annoyed him to no end that he did not have a proper dungeon to keep his prisoners in, but full wizard towers were expensive, and he had been forced so far to live in a simple three room house.

But all that was about to change. The town of Femren had been steadily pulling gold from the nearby mines for several years now, but rumors had recently started circulating about the possibility of a newer, richer vein than any of the others. The handful of previous ‘informants’ that Sothus had interrogated had not been very helpful, but finally he was certain that he’d found the right man.

Sothus kicked the man in the leg, rousing him from sleep. “Time to wake up! I hope you slept well.”

“Go to hell!”

“A feisty one, I see. There’s no reason to be like that. Simply tell me what I need to know, and you can go on about your life. Now where is this new vein of gold? And don’t tell me you don’t know. Your friend was very convincing when he told me you were the man to ask.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you! That gold is mine,” the man replied. “I found it fair and square. You can’t have it.”

“Oh, but I can. And here is why.”

Sothus placed his hand on the man’s forehead and concentrated. The man’s screams of agony echoed through the small room. After several seconds, Sothus removed his hand.

“What you felt there is what happens when a person’s blood begins to boil inside their body. Not very pleasant, is it? But that’s not even the worst I could do to you. Imagine all that blood being forcibly removed from you through your eye sockets, and out through your skin. That is what will happen if you do not tell me what I want to know.”

There was defiance in the man’s eyes, but it faded as he looked up at the cruel smile on the mage’s face. It was clear he would be more than happy to carry out his threat. “Fine, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Wonderful. I knew you’d be cooperative.”

Sothus provided the man with pen and parchment, and he drew a rough map showing where he’d found traces of a rich vein of gold.

“I’ve only scratched the surface of it,” the man said. “But I know there’s plenty of it in the ground. I just need to get to it!”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry yourself about that any more. You remember what I said about removing your blood through your eye sockets?”

Now that Sothus knew the location of the new vein of gold, it was simply a matter of extracting it. And while the enjoyment he would get from terrorizing the local miners into forced labor was tempting, the sad truth was that it would take far too long to extract the gold that way. He wanted the gold now! Which meant he would need a spell, a powerful spell, to extract the gold from the earth. And he had been putting together such a spell, but not only was it very complex, but it would require much blood, powerful blood. Luckily, he knew exactly where that blood would be coming from.

*****

Crassus’ shoulder still ached from the knife wound he had received during the previous day’s battle. But at least he was still alive, which was more than he could say for many others. He could still picture Marcellus dying from a sword thrust to the chest. He didn’t know how, but somehow he would make the humans pay for what they had done.

“AAAAHHHH!!!!”

Crassus jumped from his chair. He’d never heard such agony in a scream before! He rushed from his house, looking about for its source. Standing on one of the bridges leading to his house stood a thin, pale-skinned human in dark red robes. His hand was wrapped around the throat of an ape that he was holding out in front of him as if he weighed nothing. It was from this ape that the screaming was coming. And the reason for the screaming? The ape’s blood was being pulled out through his skin, forming into streams that flowed into the massive ruby at the end of the human’s staff, which he held in his other hand.

The ape’s screams ended as the last of his life was pulled from his body, and the human tossed him away like he was nothing. Then he turned towards Crassus. “Ah, there you are. I have been looking for you.”

“What do you want here, human? Have your people not caused us enough pain?” Crassus’ jaws clenched as he fought back his rage.

“Most likely not,” the human replied. “But what others have done to your people or will do to your people is not my concern. My only interest is you. Or more specifically, that wondrous blood that flows in your veins!”

“If you want my blood, try and take it!”

Crassus charged forward. He watched as the human pointed his staff at him, then leapt upwards and to his right, catching a branch and pulling himself into the trees. He leapt from branch to branch, circling around the mage with all the swiftness his people possessed. He was about to leap onto the human’s exposed back when suddenly every muscle in his body cramped up, and he dropped like a stone, landing in a heap on the bridge behind the human.

“Did you really think you could best me?” Sothus asked, turning around and looking down at the ape. “Admittedly, your blood is very powerful, and will be a most useful component in the spell I am working on. But at the end of the day you are nothing but a simple beast. And while others may admire your courage, you would have been much better off running, as fast and as far as your legs could carry you. Oh, I still would have gotten you eventually, but you would have lasted at least a bit longer that way.”

Sothus moved his open palm in a quick circle, then clenched his fist tight. Crassus screamed as the mage pulled the blood from his body, siphoning it into the blood ruby in his staff. Other apes were coming towards him from all directions, but he was not concerned about them. One spear flew towards him, but it took little mental effort to deflect it away. Once he had all of the ape leader’s life essence, it was a simple matter to teleport home.

*****

The preparations for the spell took several days to complete, and even with the ape blood powering his magic, every stage nearly exhausted him. There were points that he almost didn’t think he would complete it, but the prize he was after kept pushing him onwards. It was almost a shame that he couldn’t just use his magic to build a tower, but to create a commanding structure of the sort he had in mind would be an even more extreme feat than the spell he was preparing now.

No, he would have to settle for magically extracting the gold from the hidden mine and then paying to have his tower built. He could already envision it, rising above the countryside, a dark and terrible structure that inspired fear and dread in all who saw it. He would rule this whole region with a merciless, bloody fist!

Finally, his preparations were complete. He stood before the location he had gotten from the miner. He could feel the gold in the earth (and see the signs of where the miner had started working to extract it), and he could sense that there was even more of it than he’d expected. Setting a large silver bowl on the ground, he poured one ingredient after another into it. Each ingredient had been separately enchanted, and now their magics merged and fused, becoming greater than their individual parts. He started his incantations, his chants growing louder and more forceful with each word. He touched the tip of his staff to the contents in the bowl, sending out the last of the ape’s blood into it.

There was a burst of flame and thick, dark red tentacles emerged from the bowl. They arced up into the air and then buried themselves in the ground. The ground turned red as the tendrils spread out, branching and splitting, searching out the gold. Soon the ground bubbled, but not with air bubbles. No, bubbles of pure liquid gold broke through the surface, rising into the air. Once out of the ground, they solidified as they moved to the wagon that Sothus had brought with him for the task.

It took over an hour, but finally all of the gold had been extracted from the ground. The wagon was completely full, and a massive heap stood next to it that would require a second trip to bring home. Sothus was drenched in sweat, and every muscle in his body ached. The spell completed, he dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. And he’d thought the preparations for the spell had been exhausting! But it was done, and the gold was all his. Soon he would have his tower, and he would fill it with mystical implements of the most powerful kind. His power would be absolute!

Story Challenge, Day 3

Made it through day 3, and another story down! Have to admit, I'm actually a little impressed I've been able to pull it off so far. Of course, this weekend will be the real challenge, since I seem to have a much harder time staying on task during the weekend than during the week. But so far so good, and I've got the basic idea for tomorrow more or less formed, so that's always good. Oh, today's story prompt was to right about a battle where no one's feet touch the ground. So here you go:
 

Those Damned Dirty Apes

“Something must be done! We need the lumber from the forest if we’re to continue expanding the town, but those vile talking monkeys keep attacking us any time we get anywhere near it.”

“I can see your dilemma,” Sir George said. “But have no fear, my men and I are more than up to the task. Why just a few weeks ago we slayed a dragon, didn’t we, men? Something as simple as talking monkeys will be a trivial task. Trust me, we shall have your forest cleared and ready for you to chop down in a matter of days. Now, we are clear on my fee, correct?”

“Yes, yes, the money is all arranged. And as you requested, we have half ready in advance.”

“Excellent! Well then, let us get started!”

*****

Marcellus quietly dropped from the window where he had been spying on the humans. He had to get this information back to Crassus! He made his way to the nearby stables. While his body was not ideally suited to riding horseback, he knew enough of the basics of horse riding to make it work, and he needed to get back home much faster than his legs would carry him.

Grabbing hold of the nearest horse he saw, Marcellus led it out of the stables, then climbed on and kicked it in the ribs. The horse jumped and started running. Marcellus guided it out of town and headed towards the forest. As soon as he reached the edge of the trees he jumped from the horse and climbed up into the treetops.

The apes had managed to build a small but thriving community in the tops of the trees. Houses were built into the highest branches, with bridges connecting the trees together (the apes generally would swing from branch to branch more than they would use the bridges, but the bridges made it easier to move materials and supplies between houses). Marcellus reached treetop level and then went straight to Crassus’ home in the center of the village.

“Crassus, I have news!”

Crassus looked up from his meal. “What is it, Marcellus?”

“The humans have hired mercenaries. They are planning to attack us!”

Crassus sighed. Why was it always like this with the humans? Ever since his grandfather had begun the revolution that had led to their freedom from the witch who had granted them intelligence and speech, it had been a constant struggle to find a place free from human interference. They had been nomads through his grandfather’s life and much of his father’s. But when Crassus had been a young child they had discovered this forest, and it had been a perfect place for them to settle. The tree were large and solid, well-suited for building their homes in. And the nearest human settlement had been nothing but a small trading village.

But then several years ago a vein of gold had been discovered in the hills outside the village, and overnight things had changed. People began pouring in, eager to hunt for gold, and in no time at all the village had become a town, and that town continued to steadily grow. All of which meant a need for wood – wood to shore up the mine shafts, wood for new buildings in the town.

So far the apes had been able to make it clear to the humans that they were better off getting that wood elsewhere. But none of the other nearby forests were as close or as large as the one that the apes had made their home. Deep down Crassus had always known this day would come, but he had foolishly hoped that maybe, just maybe, his people would finally have been able to live in peace.

“Gather everyone together. We must prepare for the arrival of the humans.”

*****

Sir George and his men (supplemented by a dozen men from the town guard) made their way to the forest shortly before dawn the following morning. They dismounted just beyond the tree line, then crept forward, using hand signals so that no noise would give them away. Once in the trees, they began looking for the ladders leading up into the treetops, which Sir George’s men had observed while scouting the area several days prior. But no ladders were to be found.

“It seems our arrival is anticipated,” Sir George said, realizing that stealth was likely no longer necessary.

“You are correct, human!” a voice called out from somewhere above them, hidden from view. “Now leave this place. You are not welcome here.”

“I am afraid that we are not going anywhere,” Sir George called back. “We have been very well paid to get you out of the way so that these trees can be put to better use. So either you and your people leave peacefully, or we will be forced to drive you out.”

In response, a spear flew out of the upper branches of the trees, straight towards Sir George. He lifted his shield, easily deflecting it.

“All right, men, you know the drill. Archers, cover our advance.”

Sir George and his men pulled grappling hooks and ropes from their packs, while the guardsmen fired arrows up into the trees to provide cover. Sir George always made certain to be prepared for any contingency.

*****

Crassus ducked behind the tree trunk as an arrow whizzed by his head. He watched as the humans sent their grappling hooks up into the trees. As soon as they had caught hold in the lower branches the men hauled themselves upwards into the trees. Crassus had to give credit to this human – he was resourceful. But that would not keep Crassus from killing him if he pressed this fight.

He watched as the leader of the humans ascended into the trees. He tried to aim a spear at him, but the archers on the ground were sending enough arrows up into the branches to force him to hold back. He did get the satisfaction of seeing one of the archers impaled by an ape spear, however. Throwing his own spear down towards them, he picked up his heavy club and made ready for the arrival of his opponents.

Upon reaching the level of the apes’ homes, the humans burst into the first house they came upon, but found it empty. And so they charged forward across the nearest bridge, moving deeper into the ape village. The lead human had a fighting axe in each hand, both raised up in front of him, ready to meet the enemy. From the branches above him an ape dropped down, his spear point held out in front of him. But the human easily shifted out of the way, bringing one of his axes down across the ape’s neck. He pulled his axe free, kicking the dead body from the bridge as he continued forward.

The next ape charged straight at him across the bridge, leaping forward and impacting with the man’s chest before he could react, knocking him onto his back. The ape pounded its fists into the man’s face, only to have the man behind him bring his sword down onto the ape’s head, killing it instantly. He grabbed hold of his friend’s collar and pulled him to his feet.

“Damned monkey thought he had the best of me!” the man said, spitting out one of his teeth. “I’ll show those filthy beasts what happens when –”

The man coughed up a mouthful of blood as he stared down at the spear that had impaled his stomach. He turned to look at his friend as two arrows embedded themselves in his chest. His friend grabbed hold of him and pushed forward, using his dead body as a shield. Several more arrows and another spear impaled the body before the man reached the far end of the bridge, where he pushed it towards the awaiting apes and took hold of his sword in both hands, ready to engage them. They knocked the dead body aside, eager for combat as well.

A second group of men was making its way across another bridge, where Crassus and several of his fellows waited hidden on the other side. Crassus did not see the mercenary leader with them. These humans would be dealt with, but the leader was the only one he really wanted. When the humans reached the far side of the bridge, they spread out on the platform in front of one of the ape houses. The houses were simple affairs made of sticks woven together with vines and sealed with mud. There were no doors, simply openings in the front to enter and leave by.

“Nothing in this one,” the lead human said, poking his head into the entryway.

“Keep a sharp eye out,” another said. “They’re around here somewhere.”

Crassus dropped out of the branches above, his club held in both hands, bringing it down with full force on the man’s head. Several other apes dropped with him, all wielding clubs and spears. Several of the humans died instantly, but the rest responded with their swords and axes. Crassus dodged a sword thrust as he watched Marcellus slump against the tree, blood gushing from the sword wound in his chest. Crassus screamed out his rage and battered the human in front of him with his club. But in his rage he was too focused on just the opponent in front of him. Pain blossomed through his shoulder, and he turned his head to see the hilt of a throwing knife sticking out of his back.

He leapt up into the higher branches. Luckily the human in front of him was too dazed to attack him as he made his escape. He grit his teeth as he pulled the knife out, throwing it blindly down towards the humans below him. So far his people looked to have the advantage, but too many of them were dying. He needed to find the human leader. If he could finish him, maybe the rest of the humans would give up the fight.

He swung from branch to branch, wincing at the pain in his shoulder with every movement. Below him the battle waged on. He no longer saw any archers on the ground, which told him they, too, had joined the fray among the trees. Then he saw his target below him. The human’s sword slashed through the air, decapitating the ape standing in front of him.

“Human!!” Crassus swung down out of the upper branches, landing on the human’s back. But instead of knocking him down, the human twisted his body, flinging Crassus from him. “You will die!” Crassus snarled. The human simply grinned.

“Well met, monkey. You may call me Sir George.”

“I am no monkey. I am an ape!”

Crassus leapt forward, ducking under Sir George’s slashing blade and grasping hold of his waist. Sir George grunted as he felt one of his ribs crack from the pressure of the ape’s powerful arms. He brought the hilt of his sword down onto Crassus’ head, stunning the ape and causing him to loosen his hold. He hit him again, and was able to break loose from the ape’s grasp.

“You’re a strong one, aren’t you?” Sir George brought the blade of his sword down in a hard swing, only to watch Crassus roll backwards out of reach. “And fast as well. It won’t save you, though. I have fought much worse beasts than you and lived to boast of it!”

Despite his bold words, Sir George knew this was an enemy to be wary of.  Despite being a full foot shorter than the average human, the creature was easily faster and stronger. And the look of bloodthirsty rage in its eyes said that it would not surrender, nor die easily. The two opponents stared each other down, waiting for the other to flinch. Crassus’ patience gave out first, and he charged forward once again, leaping higher up this time.

Sir George slashed out with his sword, but Crassus was clearly expecting this, having launched himself high enough in the air to arc over the blade and come down on top of Sir George, knocking him onto his back on the bridge. He batted away Sir George’s sword and began slamming his fists down on the knight’s chest.

Sir George retaliated with a punch of his own, his gauntleted fist impacting squarely with the ape’s jaw, knocking him from the bridge. The knight struggled to his feet, certain that several of his ribs were broken. He looked around, and was disheartened to see the battle not going in his favor. His beleaguered men had lost many of their number and the few remaining wouldn’t last long.

“This fight will not end this way. We will be victorious, monkeys, if I have to return with a thousand men!”

It was at this point that Sir George looked down, and saw two ape hands gripping the edge of the bridge. Crassus was swinging his body back and forth, building up momentum. A moment too late Sir George turned to run. The ape swung up and around, his body slamming into the side of the human’s, knocking him from the bridge.

Sir George plummeted head first towards the ground. When he hit, the full weight of his body slammed down on his head, snapping his neck. His lifeless body slumped against the trunk of the tree.

“This fight is over, human!” Crassus shouted. He turned to help his fellow apes, but the battle was all but won.

Story Challenge, Day 2

So here is the result for day 2 of my story challenge. Not as happy with this one as I was with yesterday's story, but that's how it goes sometimes (especially when you're trying to knock out a new short story every day). So we adjust fire and hope for better things tomorrow. At any rate, here is the story:

Sir George, Dragon Slayer

 
“Sir George, thank the Gods that you are here! Everyone is waiting at the town hall.”
 
Sir George got down off his horse, his armor shining in the bright sunlight. He followed the townsman into the hall. The building was packed with people – it seemed like the whole town had gathered to meet him. Thrusting out his chest, he strode boldly down the middle of the hall, occasionally pausing so that everyone could get a good look at him.
 
“Well met, Sir George. I am Mayor Landon. We are in dire need of your aid.”
 
“But of course you are. I understand that you have yourselves a dragon problem?”
 
“We do, indeed.”
 
“He burned half our fields!” someone in the crowd shouted.
 
“He’ll kill us all!!” someone else shouted.
 
So many people began shouting at once at this point that it was nearly impossible to make out what any of them were saying.
 
“Good people, good people!” Sir George shouted over the crowd, until the townsfolk had mostly calmed down. “There is nothing to fear. Your mayor has wisely hired me, Sir George of Dunpree, to deal with your dragon problem. Rest assured, your town is safe in my hands.” He turned back to the mayor. “I take it you have the agreed upon sum?”
 
“It is an awfully lot,” the mayor replied. “We were sort of hoping –”
 
“My good mayor, quality dragon slaying is an expensive business. I would hate to think that you would risk the safety of your village over a few paltry hundred gold coins.”
 
The mayor grit his teeth; as much as he hated to admit it, he knew he had little choice but to accept the knight’s terms. “It almost cleans out the town treasury, but we have your gold.”
 
“Good man. Now as agreed that will be half up front, of course.”
 
“Yes, of course.”
 
The mayor reluctantly handed over the gold, and Sir George strode out of the town hall. Climbing back up onto his horse, he rode out of town, head held high, the townsfolk cheering him on as him he went. While he certainly had a fondness for gold, in many ways the best part of what he did was the adoration of the simple peasants as he made their towns safe from beasts and monsters. What more could a simple knight ask for in life?
 
Before accepting the job, he had sent several of his men to scout the area, and they had managed to track the dragon to a cave in the mountains north of the village. It would likely take him a good two days to get there. But the weather was warm and there were good trails for most of the way, and so he was able to reach the vicinity of the dragon’s lair with little difficulty by the middle of the next day.
 
“Sir George, we’ve got camp all set up.” One of Sir George’s men was waiting for him on the main trail through that part of the woods. He followed the man off the trail, traveling another hour or so until they reached camp, where the rest of his men were waiting.
 
“Any news of our dastardly foe?”
 
“He is in his cave, Sir George. Returned to it a couple hours past.”
 
“Excellent, excellent. And all of the gear is prepared?”
 
“It is.”
 
“In that case, once I have had a good meal and a bit of a rest, we will proceed.”
 
After Sir George had eaten and napped, the men gathered up their gear and the group hiked north. They had set up their camp a few hours hike away from the dragon’s lair (with scouts taking regular shifts nearer the cave to keep track of the dragon’s comings and goings), to lessen the likelihood of being discovered. By the time they were in sight of the cave, it was nearly dusk. The men hid themselves in the trees with their gear, while Sir George drew his sword and marched boldly forth into the clearing in front of the dragon’s cave.
 
“Dragon, come forth, you foul beast!” Sir George called out. “Come meet your death at the hands of Sir George, Dragon Slayer!” He banged his sword against his shield. When there was no response, he nodded to one of his men.
 
The man reached into a large sack and pulled out a pointed wooden tube tied to a stick. The foreign alchemist that Sir George had bought it from had called it a “fire work”, which was a good enough description for Sir George. His man stuck the stick into the ground, the top of the tube pointed towards the entrance of the dragon’s cave. Then, using his flint, he lit the short piece of string that hung down from the bottom of it. The was a brief flash as this ignited, and the man quickly stepped back. A moment later the fire work short forward through the air, exploding in a shower of colored sparks in the entrance of the cave.
 
A moment later the dragon poked his head out, looking around in annoyance. When he saw Sir George, he opened his mouth and exhaled a column of flame at him. But the knight was prepared for this, and raised his shield. The enchanter had charged him a pretty penny for it, but it was well worth it to have a shield that was completely resistant to dragon fire.
 
“Ha! Is that the best you can do, beast? Clearly empty fields and defenseless villagers are more in your league. Why not give it another go?”
 
The dragon, clearly angry now, rose up above the knight, its wings flaring out from its body.
 
“Now men!”
 
Two of Sir George’s men stepped out of the shadows of the trees, each holding a barbed harpoon in his hand. They threw with expert precision, each harpoon piercing one of the dragon’s wings. Attached to each harpoon was a thick rope (also enchanted against dragon fire – this wasn’t Sir George’s first such battle) that was anchored to the ground.
 
The dragon roared in pain, pulling hard against the ropes. But the barbed tips of the harpoons were firmly snagged in the skin of his wings, and their anchors were fixed firmly in the ground.
 
“Excellent men, good show!”
 
Now it was Sir George’s turn. Sheathing his sword, he picked up a long iron javelin. This was his prized possession, one that had killed more than a few monsters. Hefting it with one hand, he took careful aim. The dragon realized – too late – that fighting against the harpoons and ignoring the knight had been a mistake. He tried to correct this, diving towards the knight, claws extended, but the javelin had already left the knight’s hand. A moment later it was buried deep in the dragon’s chest.
 
Sir George raised his shield once more as the dragon crashed against him. Although he was knocked to the ground, the shield protected him from the dragon’s claws. Getting back to his feet, he smiled brightly as he looked down at the dragon lying in a crumpled heap on the ground in front of him. The dragon tried feebly to rise, but the fight was gone from him. Sir George boldly walked forward, grabbing hold of his javelin and jerking it from the dragon’s body. Blood spurted from the wound, soaking the ground.
 
“You are bested, dragon. But do not feel too badly for it. For you have been bested by Sir George, Dragon Slayer! Come men, we have a reward to claim! Cedric, don’t forget the claw.”
 
Sir George’s men forcibly removed the harpoons from the dragon’s wings and gathered the rest of their gear. One of the men – a big, burly brute – came forward with a massive battle axe, which he used to chop off one of the dragon’s claws (Sir George had long ago made the decision that a claw is much easier to remove and carry as proof of the kill than trying to hack off the dragon’s head). They returned to their camp for the night, ready to head back to the village the next morning.

*************

The dragon could feel the life blood steadily pumping from his body. He slowly crawled back into his cave to die. Part of him still couldn’t believe it had really happened. After all the many, many decades he had been alive (not an incredibly long time by dragon standards, but a decent number of years nonetheless), to be felled by such a pompous ass of a human was almost humiliating. Maybe he shouldn’t have had so much fun at the humans’ expense after all.

Story Challenge, Day 1

So here is the first of the short stories for the 14-day writing challenge I'm participating in. The story prompt for this story was to write a story where a dragon is the hero, but is not perceived to be the hero. Enjoy!

Teasing the Humans

The dragon glided through the air currents, only occasionally giving his wings a lazy flap in order to keep himself airborne. It was such a lovely day, the sun warming his scales, a nice breeze to keep him aloft. Days like this it was good to be a dragon.

Below him he could see the river. The humans had a name for it (humans had this strange need to name everything, something the dragon simply could not fathom), but the dragon couldn’t be bothered to remember what they called it. Eventually the river would reach the lake, where could be found the human fishing village.

The dragon caught a down draft that let him drop almost to the ground, and he skimmed across the surface of the river, picking up as much speed as he could, sending up a spray of water on both sides of his long, lean form. Ah, that felt nice, very relaxing.

“What should I do to occupy myself on this fine day?” the dragon wondered aloud, frightening the local wildlife (who, naturally, didn’t speak dragon, and so only heard a terrifying roaring). “I know. It’s been ever so long since I visited the fishing village. I’ll bet they missed me!”

The dragon couldn’t help but smile at this. He hated to admit it, but he took an inordinate amount of pleasure from teasing the humans. They were just so frightfully serious about everything. Any time he’d wander past they’d start screaming and shouting and running around in a panic, and shooting their tiny little arrows at him (most of which never came anywhere near him, and the rare one that actually found its mark would simply bounce off – he never could quite figure out why they bothered).

Their reactions hadn’t ever made much sense to the dragon. Oh sure, he’d kill the occasional sheep or goat (but a dragon’s got to eat, same as anyone else). But it wasn’t like he’d ever killed one of them, and the one house he’d destroyed had been purely by accident. Surely they couldn’t hold that against him forever, now could they?

Yes, the more he thought about it, the more he knew today would be a good day to tease the humans. He beat his wings faster, lifting up away from the surface of the water and into the air. He darted through the cross breezes, twirling and spinning, just enjoying the thrill of flight, feeling the power in his wings as they propelled him through the air.

Maybe that was why humans were always so serious. They were perpetually stuck on the ground, plodding along on their little legs. If only they could experience the joys of flight, the freedom of soaring above the clouds, maybe then they’d be happy and carefree, like he was. Of course, knowing how humans were, even if he did try to show one of them the joy of flight, they’d likely as not just start kicking and screaming. That’s just how those silly humans were.

Before long he could see the lake, and the human village, which sat right at the mouth of the river. He gave a loud, joyous roar as he dive bombed out of the clouds. He’d dropped to treetop level just as he reached the outskirts of the village, and he skimmed just a few feet over the tops of the highest buildings as he made his first pass.

As expected, the humans were already running around in a panic, pointing up in the air and screaming. The dragon sailed over the village, then banked hard and circled back around to give it another pass. And look, there were the guardsmen with their little bows and arrows, right on queue! Maybe if he slowed down a couple of them might even hit him.

The dragon just couldn’t resist. He circled around and stopped himself over the middle of the village, just casually beating his wings, hovering above the village marketplace.

“Come on, boys, here’s your chance. Shoot the dragon, win a prize!”

And shoot they did, firing arrow after arrow up into the sky at him. Several of them even managed to hit him, the arrows bouncing harmlessly off his chest. If only they spoke dragon, then he could tell them just how much fun he was having. He made another circle of the village, then winged away. Yes, that had indeed been a great idea.

He floated lazily along on the breeze, headed towards the mountains. Now that he’d had his fun, he was starting to feel a bit peckish. A nice tasty deer would just hit the spot. He scanned the forest, his senses focused as he searched for his lunch. He noticed a strange smell, and not a pleasant one. What was it? He inhaled deeply. Ugh, goblins! Nothing quite so smelly (or nasty tasting – the dragon had only made that mistake once) as goblins.

Curious to see what sort of mischief the vermin were up to, he veered off his course, heading towards the smell. And in no time at all, he found them. It was a larger band, several dozen at least. They were just entering the corn fields outside the human village. The dragon passed high overhead, not wanting them to see him (not yet, at any rate). There they were, weapons in hand as they marched forward, yammering to each other in goblin (a language the dragon had never felt any need to learn – what worthwhile thing could one possibly overhear a goblin saying?).

The goblins were marching straight towards the human village. And their numbers were great enough that if they caught the humans by surprise it would be a slaughter. Well, the dragon wasn’t having any of that! The humans were much too fun to have around to let them be slaughtered by a bunch of obnoxious, smelly goblins. Something would simply have to be done.

The dragon dropped from the sky, his wings pressed up against his body, roaring down towards the goblin formation. He pulled up several yards from the ground, unleashing a stream of dragon fire as he tore through their ranks. He grabbed a pair of them in his claws as he turned skywards, crushing their feeble bodies, then dropping them as he banked in the air and came around for another pass.

The goblins scattered and were fleeing towards the hills. The dragon smiled. A job well done. Not that the humans would appreciate it. More than likely they’d be too upset about their corn fields to pay any attention to the dead goblins (okay, yes, his flames may have set their corn fields on fire, but he was sure they could save most of them. They were right next to a lake, after all, so it wasn’t like they didn’t have ample access to water).

The dragon flew past the edge of the village as he returned to his search for lunch. He could hear the humans down below, screaming about the fire and the horrible menace that the dragon was. No appreciation at all. But that was to be expected from humans. Not that the dragon minded. For all their faults, the world simply wouldn’t be as much fun without them!