A long and difficult journey must be undertaken to reach a Dragon’s Keep, and even then, one must battle and kill a dragon to reach the Royal within. It has never been a quest for the faint hearted. Yet every calibre of knight would make their way across the map to battle the behemoth; humans of all ages and skill level, all to ensure that the kingdom will be ruled over by a Royal who knew both strength and cunning - for a sword alone could not best a dragon, even on its worst day.
It was a tell-tale clink and a heavy gait of a knight at the imposing gates of a certain, notorious keep that alerted High Queen’s daughter a challenger approached. Curious, she pulled her long auburn hair into a bun and trotted to the window, careful to pick up her velvety violet dress so she didn’t trip.
There, right by the ominous, broken skeletons of front gates, long since smashed aside by a rather angry dragon, stood a small man clad in worn, dull armour. Once upon a time, it may have been polished and shined, but not now. Frowning, her hazel eyes followed him, observing from on-high in her tower as he looked around, waiting for the dragon to appear.
He had only taken two steps when she noticed the limb on his left side. Her supposed ‘saviour’ was a man who had been crippled in his journey- yet still, he soldiered on to face the dragon in her own keep. Letting a small smile twitch across her lips, she wondered if the knight knew he trod the line between bravery and suicide.
Watching the world through his dirty visor, the man advanced, one hand on the hilt of his sword, his wounded leg hindering his movement, his armour slightly rusted and stiff from the blood that stained it. Swallowing hard, he dared another step- only to hear it.
The scraping clatter echoed throughout the age-old collection of towers, turrets and archways, all crumbling with age and black with the remnants of dragon-breath. Then all was silent, before a great rumbling came forth from the depths of the Keep. More clattering- a great cacophony of gold raining down off something large, then the movement- heavy footsteps pounding against stone, the odd grate of talons scraping across the ground getting louder and louder and louder.
But the knight held his ground, trembling hand upon the hilt of his sword as he drew it from its scabbard, lifting its glittering edge into the air as a defiant challenge. A trumpet came from closer within the mess of stone than he would have liked, but before he could even blink- there, in front of him, marched the foreboding shape of his adversary.
It was huge, its shadow looming over him well before it had reached him- and all he could do was stand and stare at the magnificent blue dragon stopped before him as it lowered its head and gazed at him with a set of icy eyes. Each side of its head were fin-like structures that seemed to move with its mood, as they were flared to their full size, flushed a deep purple. The beast had a slight overbite, and as he gazed more intently at it, he could see the very white, very sharp teeth that were just long enough to be seen. It seemed to size him up, not blinking once as they stared each other down. Wrinkling her nose, the dragon did something rather unexpected. So much so, the knight surprised himself by letting a warm stream of urine down his uninjured leg, creating a puddle under his boot.
“State your purpose here, Knight.”
Though the voice was booming and powerful, it was unmistakably female- and was unmistakably the dragon’s. After a minute or two of stuttering, the man managed a small squeak.
“I’ve come to rescue the Princess!”
Blinking and giving him the once over, the dragoness turned her head and sauntered back to the highest tower, scaling the cobbled stones with apparent ease.
“There’s a challenger to see you, My Lady.”
Even though she spoke into the window, the knight could still hear her loud and clear, though he could not hear the princess’s response. Yet, slowly, the dragon retracted her head- a young woman perched upon her snout. Slowly, and with much more care, the beast descended the tower and sauntered back to the man, now sitting down with his helmet thrown to the side. Once more she loomed over the knight, but this time, she lowered her head and allowed the princess to climb free. Then she sat, seemingly content, but kept a very close eye on both man and woman. After all, it was her duty.
The Princess, about 17 winters by the man’s judgement, curtseyed, and began her inspection, lifting her dress as she picked up her heels, moving in a circle around the knight who was too terrified of the dragon to move even an inch, just in case. Squinting, assessing the man sent to rescue her, the girl noticed the stains on his armour, its age, the state of his sword and shield, then came to her conclusion with a soft tut.
“Sir Knight, I am afraid to say you are not the calibre of knight I am looking for,” feeling his blood run cold, the man trembled slightly as he observed the dragon’s reaction to the girl’s speech. It- she- the creature that watched him- her eyes lit up with satisfaction and slowly, her blue tongue ran across those terrible, white teeth. Swallowing hard, still not looking at the Princess, he remained motionless. “There is no reason for you to be here, and by the looks of it you won’t survive the journey back to the capitol…” her voice trailed off and he knew. Whimpering, he turned to her, his bad leg giving out on him, leaving him gasping on one knee, begging for his life. He cried, told her of his village, promised he would change their world for the better if only she would be his wife, and all the while she walked from him, back towards her tower. He continued to wail and cry even as the monster lifted her back to her room, delivering her to her bedchamber with the upmost care. Weakened, unable to escape, he brandished his sword in the vain hope that he may still be able to best her companion, but when the dragon’s roar sounded he found himself unable to muster the courage to lift his blade from the dirt and remained on one knee, head bowed.
There was no scream as the dragon’s jaws closed around him, only the sound of her teeth scraping his armour and the sound of the metal plates catching one another as she shook him, thrashing his fleshy body until she spat him out in a crumpled heap and he was still. Satisfied, the dragon settled, ripping the armour away to snaffle her meal.
