The Sassy Dragon

“You fellas remember that time we slew the dragon?” Sir Maximus asked his three friends, he was the second oldest of the group, a retired knight of the borderland countries. The Sassy Dragon tavern was near full on that eve, barmaids bustled about with drinks and food, laughter and smoke filled the room, barely audible over the din a singer strummed a lute by the hearth. The table they sat was small and round, the same table the four old men had been sitting at for years.

“Of course we remember slaying the dragon, how could I forget cutting the head from the beast’s mighty shoulders with my own axe?” The old blacksmith said, his pipe was clamped between his teeth and his thick mustaches flapped with each word.

“Oh Dennis you didn’t kill the dragon, I shot the beast clean through its blood red eye with an oaken shaft in the cavern all those years ago, we all remember that.” Sir Nicholas took a long swig from his ale, the bearded old archer had gone to fat over the years, the ales having taken their toll over a long life of indulgence after their triumph.

“Nick you old coot you didn’t shoot the dragon, I coaxed it into the back of the cave, forced it into a corner and stabbed it through the neck with my knives.” Gary said, the youngest of the bunch, the mummer was the only one of them still employed, his checkered jester’s garm haggard, his makeup smeared after a long day's work.

“You didn’t kill the dragon, fool. I stabbed the beast through its heart with my longsword and saved the child, everyone knows that.” Sir Maximus said through his wispy white beard, making a stabbing thrust across the table with his ale.

The four old men sat in silence for a time. Each trying to recall exactly what had happened all those years ago, the day they’d achieved glory and saved the heir to house Osbarth from the dragon’s mountain lair.

“Well, I suppose we should each recount how we remember it, eh?” Dennis said.

“Aye, you’re probably right.” Nick agreed.

“Sure.” Sir Maximus killed his ale, foam dribbling onto his beard and gut.

“Fine. I’ll go first.” Gary said.

The Mummer’s Tale:

“It all started when we heard of Lady Mary Osbarth’s child having been stolen out from under her by the great winged Verax. Now, Verax was no common hill basilisk, nor a wyrm of the sea or a drake of the plains, no, he was a mountain wyvern, the largest of all the beasts in the world. Verax was the–”

“Yes, yes Gary we all know he was a big and scary wyvern, we all saw the damned beast. Get on with your tale we haven’t all day.” Nick interrupted.

“None of you yappers work anymore, you’ve all the time in the world.” Gary said, but continued when Nick scowled at him from across the tavern table. “Fine, but we need some context do we not? So there we were, after having been picked by the lady Mary and her lord husband, a motley bunch of warriors in some sense or another.” Scoffs came from Sir Maximus at the mummer referring to himself as a warrior but the old knight didn’t interrupt further.

“We tramped through the forests of Namithir, swam across the river of Syrew, hiked up the hills of Yorth, and finally reached the base of Raeth Peak, the tallest of all the Raeveng Mountains. At the top of the great mount lay Verax’s lair, the great cavern of Maerath, and where the wyvern had taken the young lord Johnny Osbarth. The little lord was no more than a wee lad at the time, two or three years, known to waddle about on his stubby legs around town, but when he spoke it was little more than babble. When word spread of the young lad’s abduction the lady and her lord husband were up in fits, they searched the country wide for those brave enough to take on the mighty Verax.”

“Or dumb enough.” Dennis said.

“Some of us were certainly dumb enough,” Gary agreed, glaring at the old blacksmith. “The four of us were chosen, valiant warriors and the like, and once we’d reached the base of Raeth, we began the grand ascent. Scrambling up shale slabs so loose that with one missed step we each would have slid all the way back to the bottom and have had to start anew. The cruel mount towered above us, twice as tall as all the other peaks in the range, snow capped with little foliage growing the higher we went, for few things wish to live near a dragon. Up we went, as the tree line thinned and disappeared, we were left only with the shining black of obsidian and the harsh gray shale to distract us from the wind that bit so deep into our clothes that we each shivered like little children. Especially Sir Nicholas’s then scrawny ass.”

“I did no such shivering!”

“Oh I remember plenty of shivering,” Dennis gave a bellowing laugh, blowing pipe smoke all about him. “You were half again as thin as you are now, thick boy.”

“Yes, yes Nicholas and Maxy have each gotten quite fat in their elderly years, now may I continue with no further interruptions please?”

“Unlikely, my lord warrior.” Sir Maximus grunted between puffs of his own pipe.

“Up we went, through the ghoulish winds, surrounded on all sides by the howling of the mountain wolves, though like the trees and plants, wild dogs like nothing to do with dragons, and so none of us showed any fear of the wolves accept Dennis who pissed his pantaloons at the first baying sounds.” Dennis started to interrupt but was silenced by Gary’s firm hand. “Please no further interruptions or I should surely go longer than any of us have the attention span for.” The three other men exchanged looks but sat in silence as the mummer continued his tale.

“As we drew further to the top of the mountain, the snows began to fall, covering the harsh ground in a thin layer that grew deeper the higher we went, the air became thin and Sir Maxy began to cough and wheeze from the freezing air. Though we trudged ever onwards, as the snows reached our boot tops, then over our knees, we pushed ever forward, slogging through the drifts, one meager step at a time.

“By then Sir Nicholas was crying his eyes dry and complaining of cold tootsies, and Dennis’s notoriously small pillar and stones disappeared inside him where they would forever remain until the end of his days.”

“My pecker did not disappear inside me forever!” Dennis barked from across the round wooden table. “He perked his head back out eventually.” The muscled old blacksmith laughed through his thick mustaches and bid the mummer continue his tale.

“When the snows had grown so deep that we each began to believe we would be able to hike no further that day, I caught a whiff of sulfur on the cold wind.

“As the rotten egg stench grew thicker in our frozen snot filled nostrils, did the snows finally begin to thin, growing shallower as the smell grew hotter and fresh. It soon mixed with the scent of burning flesh and death, and we each knew we’d drawn close to Verax’s lair. The snows then disappeared altogether and the bitter wind became hot, ripping through our winter jackets like a slap on the arse from Nick’s wife. Onward we hiked, our thighs burned, our calves stung and our backs ached from the weight of our weapons slung across our shoulders.

“The heat of it grew intense and Maxy began to sweat so profusely I thought he would die of dehydration before we even arrived at the top, and as I feared none of us would make it past another false peak, we crested the big bastard.

“Peaking our heads over the top of the rim, the great flaming pool of Maerath was revealed to us, bubbling and churning, so hot it was that Nick’s bushy eyebrows burnt clean off to never grow back again.”

“Those were your eyebrows, fool.” Sir Nicholas said, Gary rubbed at his bald pate and the makeup that lay where his eyebrows once were, he grinned and continued.

“So Nick’s eyebrows had disappeared just as Dennis’s pecker had, a tragic sacrifice to the dragon we were so close to meeting. Across the great boiling pool of molten and twisted rock lay the cavern Maerath, and within the great Verax and his prize, the little lord so scared as he was.

“We four eased across the edge of the pool, making certain to hide behind the boulders sitting along its width, slowly working our way closer and closer to the cavern, once or twice the lava pool bubbled and if I'm being honest I near jumped out of my boots my nerves were so wracked. Though through my tough exterior none of you guessed I felt such fear.”

“You’re wearing makeup Gary.”

“Tough exterior. We edged our way around the pool to the wide expanse of blackened stone outside the lair, where we saw the first signs of Verax’s kills. Goat and cow bones lay scattered and charred, stripped clean were their fire blackened bones, for all know that dragons cook their food before they eat it. A great terror washed over the four of us, not for our own lives, except maybe Sir Maximus who was now shaking in his mail.” The old knight rolled his eyes. “But we feared for the life of the little lord, who we knew would have made nothing more than a light snack for the great Verax, though we still held hope that Osbarth lived, for dragons are like cats, and enjoy playing with their food before eating it.

“Scrambling across the charred ground, around the burnt bones of pigs and what I hoped at the time were not human remains but upon recollection most certainly were, we edged to the side of the cavern. Where I, Gary the mummer of house Osbarth, being the bravest of our valiant expedition, took it upon myself to peek my head first into the depths of the Maerath cave.

“The ceiling, walls, and floor were covered in jagged stalactites and stalagmites, water dripped from the roof of the cave and a vile stench struck battle against our noses. The stink was of rot and burnt flesh, mixed in with guano and a vague reptilian rank so overpowering my eyes began to water almost as much as Sir Nicholas's had fighting the cold below the great boiling pool.

“‘I say we go around!’ I said, to which all you scoffed and scolded my cowardice. Instead we discussed a short strategy for entering and attacking the great beast. It was decided our valiant knight Sir Maximus would lead the sneaky charge with his wooden shield and longsword at the ready, Dennis went second wielding his war axe in one hand and his massive smith’s hammer in the other, in third was Sir Nicholas, arrow nocked and ready, and the honor of taking the courageous rearguard was given to yours truly, my knives ready to fly from quick fingered hands at any sign of the wyvern. I grabbed a thigh bone from the charred bits and remains, tore off part of my long jacket, wrapped the tip of bone and lit the thigh torch so we had some light as we entered the blackness.

“We each eased into the near silent cavern, bats fluttered above us but made no attempt to flee. Bats being one of few species comfortable around the dragons of the world, I suppose the two feel somewhat akin in that sense of carnivorous flight they partake in. My eyes adjusted to the growing darkness as we moved further into Maerath, wide cracks in both ground and ceiling surrounded us, fissures in the earth that at times we had to hop and skip over. Twice we came upon precipices so wide and deep we had to cling to the cave walls and scramble our way past, so scared I was then I feared my own bollocks would shrink up in me to never return just as Dennis’s had.

“During the second crossing poor Sir Nicholas lost his grip and his feet slipped, giving way our brave archer tumbled into the abyss never to be seen again. His body assumedly having exploded upon impact far below us in the blackened pit. May his soul forever rest in pieces.”

The old archer, who’d been near to falling asleep during Gary’s exasperating tale, woke suddenly at the news of his untimely demise. “I did no such falling, I’m right here, damn you Gary, I–”

“Please! I will have no further interruptions.” The mummer said, ignoring Nick’s living words he continued. “After crossing the two crevasses the three remaining of our grand expedition mourned silently and crept around a wide corner of the deep cave, the light was so dim here that if I hadn't lit a torch we wouldn't have been able to see each other had we been swapping spit.

“There came a deep rumbling sound around the bend, and Six Maxy with his knight’s ears made us pause before poking his head out to see what the commotion was. It was of course the sound of Verax’s hot breath coming from nostrils larger than Sir Maximus is now fat.

“‘He’s around the corner. I think he’s sleeping.’ Maxy whispered to the three remaining of us. Dennis shuddered in fear and even I remembered wanting to cower behind my mother’s dress at that moment, there was after all a mountain wyvern longer from snout to tail than the tallest tower of Lord Osbarth’s castle just around the curve.

“‘We’re all gonna join Nick.’ Dennis moaned.

“‘Have no fear!’ I said in a hushed tone. ‘For I have a plan. Max, you and Dennis will wake Verax and draw him out, so that I can sneak around his backside, and give him the ole stabby stab with my knives. What do you think?’

“‘That’s a terrible plan.’ Dennis whispered. ‘The big bastard will envelop us in flame as soon as he wakes.’

“‘That’s why I will be very efficient with the stabbing.’

“‘I agree with Dennis,’ Sir Maximus said, ‘but I’ve no other ideas, Gary you’ve got to be quick about it.’

“‘Oh I will.’

“‘Alright. C’mon Dennis.’ The two scuttled off to the otherside of the wide cavern and left me to draw my knives. The jingling sounds of plate and mail the two made woke the dragon before they’d reached the far end of the cavern. The beast, drowsy and confused at first, blinked blood red eyes so large and menacing that I was sure he could see everything of the known world when flying high about the mountains in which he dwelled. Steam rose from the monster’s carriage size snout, he bared fangs taller than the little Lord Osbarth, scales of crimson and black shimmered an oily rainbow sheen in the dull reflection of the torchlight I so foolishly still held, for the beast saw the flame and immediately turned my way.

“Fearing we would not be able to find our way back out should I snuff the torch, I tossed it to the center of the chamber. Dennis or Maxy, one of you at that point decided that was the signal and began to impersonate some large ape, stomping knuckles on the ground, and grunting ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs.’ The other soon followed suit and both Sir Maxy and Dennis were making the greatest of monkey impersonations.

“Verax, hearing the sound of all dragon species’ favorite meals rounded on the two men, who immediately stopped tramping about in terror. The wyvern spread its massive wings and gave a roar that sent fear straight to my sphincter and nearly made me piss my britches as Dennis had earlier, and was likely doing so again.

“I took the opportunity with the beast’s back facing me and raced along the cavern floor, using the agility and gymnastic abilities known only to those of my profession, I bound up the wyvern’s back. Using his own spines and spikes as grasping points I leapt along his wide scales until I was at the beast’s neck.

“Verax whipped and thrashed underneath but I held fast, Sir Maxy saw that I was atop the beast and lunged sword outstretched from below the monster as Verax began to spew flame about the cavern. So hot and intense was the heat that I feared all our eyebrows would burn clean off just as Nick’s had before his tragic fall. Stone began to warp and melt from the immense heat. As I was whipped and tossed about by the mighty wyvern, I hooked a leg around one of his spines, pulled my daggers from their hidey holes and began stabbing at the beast’s neck.

“The wyvern gave another thunderous roar at the pain I inflicted upon him, black blood and bile began to spew from the gaping wounds I opened along the back of the beast. Red hot rock dripped from the ceiling where the wyvern continued to spew fiery death, but I never ceased my butchery of the beast, slashing and stabbing away until I was covered head to toe in the dragon’s ooze. The mighty Verax slowed his thrashing as blood loss began to take its toll, and the flames ceased to burn from his gaping maw.

“I drove my dagger through his now exposed spinal column, striking the killing blow, Verax roared in agony one last time, and fell to the cavern floor, dead at last.

“I slipped from the wyvern’s back only to find the beast had crushed Sir Maxy in its death throes. Having fallen atop our proud knight, splattering Sir Maximus across the cavern floor in a sea of crimson and steel, the second sacrifice to the great wyvern. Though as my heart strings were being pulled by the death of another dear friend, Dennis came from the darkness beyond the corpses, cradling a bundle in his thick smith’s arms. It was the little Lord Osbarth, alive and well.

“The two of us made our peace with our lost friends, and huffed the long journey home. We arrived back in town to great applause and admiration, statues were erected in our honor and Dennis and I received many a jimmer and jabber from all the maidens and ladies at court. At least I did, for the poor blacksmith’s willy had remained hidden deep inside him from the dreadful cold we had felt on our initial journey, where it still hides to this day. The end.”

Gary wiped his hands and took a swig of wine. “Good story, eh?”

Sir Maximus and Sir Nicholas looked at each other, each alive and well. “Only one problem there bud, neither of us are dead.” The archer said, the alleged first casualty of Gary’s telling.

“And you didn’t kill the beast.” Sir Maximus added.

“Yes, yes well some things must be exaggerated a little to make for a great tale, wouldn’t you all agree?”

The three other men exchanged tired glances.

“Gary you’re full of ass, that’s not how it happened at all.” Dennis grunted, stamping out his pipe and packing a new bowl. “I’ll tell you jabronis how it really happened.”

The Smith’s Tale:

“It began when little Lord Osbarth went missing as our lying colleague went into so much detail describing, I will skip the journey to Maerath, which through Gary’s long winded explanation we remember was in fact quite arduous.” The old blacksmith took a great swig of ale and popped his freshly relit pipe back in his mouth.

“When we reached the top of Raeth Peak, it was Gary’s eyebrows who were burnt to a crisp after he so foolishly stuck his head too close to the boiling pit, I believe it was Sir Nick and I who had to pull the mummer back up by his waist band before he fell headlong into the flaming pool.

“After saving Gary’s dumbass, we snuck around the lava and into the cavern. As the fool mentioned, it wreaked, the cave smelt of Sir Maximus’s mother on a hot summer’s eve. Gary lit a torch, his one productive contribution to the expedition and we went into the dark.

“Once immersed in darkness, our party was attacked by the vicious bats of Maerath, Gary screamed and cried and pissed his pants. The bats bit him all about, though left the rest of us unharmed, his jester’s garm was soon stained red from the various bites. We shooed the bats away and saw that none of Gary’s wounds were life threatening and moved onward.

“After some time of dodging burnt out husks of animals and humans, we came to the first chasm, which we crossed with ease, though I do remember Sir Nick’s legs shaking something violent as we bouldered along the wall of the crevasse. I must admit by then I was petrified of what lay hidden in the shadows and the beast we were soon to face.

“We approached the second precipice and by then Sir Nicholas was whimpering like a little girl, we scrambled across the cavern wall just as we had the first. Nobody fell into the abyss.” Dennis glared at Gary who was picking at his nails, sipping his wine, and paying little attention to the blacksmith’s version of events so long passed.

“Deeper into the cave the stench heightened and the deep breathy growl of the beast began to echo throughout the various shafts and cracks of Maerath. A battle was soon at hand, I could feel it deep within my clenched bowels, Sir Maximus poked his head beyond the next bend and there lay Verax, the largest wyvern in all the land.

“Maxy devised a quick plan, he and Gary would distract the beast while Sir Nick and I would climb to the twin overhangs twenty some yards above the cavern floor and the sleeping dragon, Nick would pepper the monster with arrows and I would launch myself from above and strike the killing blow.

“Gary began doing some lewd mummer’s dance as Nick and I climbed, prancing about and itching at the bat bites that covered his exposed flesh, his fool’s jacket crusted brown with dry blood. Verax woke to the sounds of Gary’s disgusting display, Six Maximus ran underneath the beast to begin stabbing away with his longsword, and Nick fired arrow after futile arrow at the beast. The wyvern roared, so loud was his cry that I thought my eardrums would burst and blood would pour from my head, but before I had time to worry, the dragon reared and sprayed fire all about the cavern. By then I found myself fully puckered, but despite my fear I leapt with a mighty cry from the overhang.

“Screaming like a madman, war axe held above my head in both hands, I came down upon the beast with all the force of my strength and the axe cleaved clean through Verax’s scaled neck and spine. The monster’s head was severed from its shoulders and fell in a heavy crash to land upon poor Sir Maxy who had been attacking the wyvern from beneath. Sir Maximus exploded instantly from the weight of the beast, spraying blood and plate all about the cavern in a shower of red and silver, but the mighty Verax had been slain, never to slaughter or abduct little lords again.

“Gary and I, burnt but alive, mourned while Sir Nicholas hunted in the back of the cavern for the babe. Nick came out after a time with the little lord crying intolerably.

“The three and a half of us made the long journey home, and were indeed met with applause and many a maidenheads to be had by all, except for the mummer who died some days after our return, killed by someone unknown coughing disease more than likely caught when he was bitten by all those bats.” Dennis drank down the last of his ale and smacked his lips. “Better than Gary’s version, eh?”

“I died of no such bat cough.” Gary cried from across the round tavern table, his lips stained wine red.

“I liked it more than Gary’s.” Sir Nicholas said, the old archer raised his mug in mock cheers to the blacksmith’s tale.

“You’re all fools. I’ll tell you how it really happened.” Sir Maximus said.

The Knight’s Tale:

“It began just as you two said, the Lord and Lady’s son Johnny Osbarth was taken by the great mountain wyvern Verax, the four of us were chosen as the Lord’s champions and we made the long journey to Raeth Peak.

“We climbed the tall mountain, high into the freezing winds and above the clouds, we reached the lava pool of Maerath and Gary almost fell into the pit, burning all the hairs off his face. We snuck around the side of the pool, and entered the cavern, Gary held high the torch he’d made from the rags of his mummer’s skirt.

“Soon after entering the cave our dear fool was attacked by bloodthirsty bats and bitten many times. I feared he would die of blood loss and be reanimated into a bloodthirsty vampyre just as the stories of the far north speak, though unfortunately no such thing happened.”

“Unfortunately!” Gary sprayed wine on the table.

The knight ignored the mummer. “We crept deeper into the cavern, the stench of death and shit was near overwhelming, Gary did in fact piss his britches though I believe it was during the first crevasse crossing. We bouldered around each, I remember Sir Nicholas shaking something silly as we scrambled across the abysses, and Gary whimpered like a babe, his legs surely chaffed ripe with urine. After crossing the second chasm, I noticed Gary had been covered in hundreds of small insects. Upon further inspection we determined them to be ticks. It took us over half an hour to pick the bugs from his simpering flesh. I remember Dennis laughing his arse off through the entirety of the removal.”

“The ticks! I completely forgot.” The blacksmith bellowed a laugh through his mustaches. “How is it none else of us were stuck with the little buggers?”

“Couldn’t tell you, but Gary survived the lyme disease infested things and we moved deeper into the cave, coming around a bend, I stuck my head out and there lay the great Verax. The biggest dragon I’ve ever seen, we quickly devised a plan, the three of you were to distract the beast and I was to strike the killing blow.

“Sir Nicholas climbed the cavern wall to an outcropping and began to spray the wyvern with arrows. Dennis began chopping at the beast’s thick hind legs as though Verax was a great redwood that needed felling. Gary performed a magic trick or danced or put on some other useless mummer’s display. While Sir Nicholas and Dennis made themselves useful I dodged beneath strikes of Verax’s spiked tail, barely missing dragon fire blazing so hot I thought my plate and mail would melt into my flesh. Rolling beneath the beast I struck high and true, piercing the monster’s scales, between his ribs and clean through its heart.

“Verax gave a mighty roar and fell in its death throes, I was barely able to dive free of the twenty ton beast crashing to the cavern floor.

“We retrieved the little Lord and headed home. Lord Osbarth awarded us each a pension and a place in his household service as our reward.” Sir Maximus leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, puffing on his pipe. “Yep, that’s how it happened alright.”

“Wrong.” Gary waved both his hands.

“I agree with the fool, though now that you’ve told your version I’m beginning to question my own memory.” Dennis said, smoke billowing from his own pipe.

“No, no, you’ve all got it wrong. I remember how it happened now.” Sir Nicholas said, the ancient archer leaned forward as though he was about to tell a dirty secret to his old friends.

The Archer’s Tale:

“We made the great journey, snuck into the cave, Gary was bitten by various insects and flying rats, and we decided on the plan ole Maxy explained.

"I climbed up to the tall outcropping, the wall was slick and puddles covered the overhang. I went to knock an arrow, my bloody foot slipped in the wet and I released the bolt early, the shaft struck the ceiling of the cave. It must’ve hit one of those roof cracks just right because it loosened a huge ass stalactite that fell on the bloody wyvern’s head. Crushed it with a big ole splat on the ground.” Sir Nicholas leaned back and twirled at his mustaches.

The four old men looked at each other in dumbfounded quiet for a time.

“Oh yeah that’s right.” Dennis finally broke the long silence.

“Yeah that is how it happened isn’t it?” Sir Maximus agreed after a deep drink of ale.

“I suppose it is, ain’t it?” Gary agreed.

They pondered for a long while, sipping their drinks and puffing their pipes.

“A little disappointing isn’t it?” The old archer said.

“Quite anticlimactic if you ask me.” The mummer agreed. “I like my version better.”

“With Nick and I dead? You twat Gary.”

“May their souls forever rest well.” The blacksmith toasted his ‘dead’ friends and finished his ale.

“We’re not dead ya twits!”

The four old men drank and laughed the rest of the evening away.