Once upon a time in a far off and long forgotten land..
The Green Dragon raises her supple leathery snout and sniffs the air. Her nostrils enlarge
almost imperceptibly as she picks up the scent of the nearby village. Humans! She turns her
lumbering body into the cruel east wind. The Glorfindal forest floor echoes with the deep, heavy
pounding of her feet.
The dragonís enormous body is heavy and swollen with her advancing pregnancy. This year, this time,
she will destroy them. Every single human soul will be destroyed. The Norgons, The Niot and The
Ywag will be gone by nightfall. Their bones and blood and hair trampled in the dust. Her dust!
There will be no more threats to the future of dragon-kind. Her heart rate quickens and a thrilling
tremor of excitement runs up and down her spiny back at the thought of her victory. No more humans!
Gone! Their swords and their potions and their sickening man-smell eradicated forever.
This time she will succeed, she must succeed. By midnight, as the fires burn and rage around her,
she will have annihilated the village and all who try to stop her will feel the wrath of centuries
of suffering at the hands of men. She wonít stop there. The sneaky elves and bullheaded trolls
will follow and the dwarves will stutter and beg for the kind of mercy that she, ruler of all
Dragons, will refuse to grant.
Her breath is coming faster now as she picks up her pace, her nose leading her towards the smell of
ale and horse-beasts and chicken feed that is the village square. The dank, shaded forest is
opening up now and revealed in the distance are the tethered horse-beasts and chimney smoke that
tell her it is almost dinner time in the village. Good. They will all be there to meet their
long overdue doom!
She glances briefly into the tree tops but remembers that the elves will not be in their leafy
dens now. These creatures with their strange habits will be in the caves of Sorma. She will deal
with them later, when the humans are silent. Then she will deal with the trolls in Gluckmoreís
slimy swamps. The Dwarves will be a special treat, saved for last. Destroying Qexelcrag and all
the measly midgets within their stronghold will be a delight she has craved for centuries.
She passes the healers hut and wonders if she should trample it first. That way there will be
nothing to save them from her rampage. She reconsiders, the smell of the humans is too strong to
ignore now and she makes for the plains of Romar and the village beyond.
Meanwhile at the village Inn.
The young man sips his ale and looks around him. Just one more and he is on his way to his final
lesson at the Bluespringís Warrior Training School for young men. Today he will complete the final
step in his year long training. He is learning the art of dragon slaying.
Dragons have plagued the village for centuries, plundering and pillaging in their destructive rage.
It is an age old battle between man and beast that had claimed the life of the young manís father
and brother when he was only three years old.
Tears were soon replaced by a vow to destroy the dragon known only by legend: The Green Dragon of
Golgonath. Today would be the day he would learn how to strike the fatal blow to the heart that
would put an end to this feared and loathed beast. The gold he could gain mattered less than the
victory, but he would take what he was given nonetheless.
He is not afraid of death. Half elf and half human his parents have blessed him with the greatest
gift of all. Any wounds he might sustain will not kill him-at least not permanently. They will
merely send him into The Land of Shades and require a brief visit with Ramius The Overlord of Death.
He will soon return.
He steps into the fading light and starts down the street towards the village square, smiling at
Merrick and patting the horses as he passes the stables and stopping to collect his newly sharpened
swords at MightyEís Weaponry.
The man turns the corner and enters the square. He begins to notice a faint scent on the air.
He canít seem to place it. Itís a little like fire, he thinks but more like Sulphur. Shrugging
it off as his imagination playing tricks on him he marches on, excited by the evenings promise.
He turns into the village square and heads towards the training school. As he approaches The Garden
he stops dead in his tracks. That rock! He had never noticed it before! Surely it hadnít always
been there? He stands, sword in hand observing the greenish boulder for a moment. Wait! Had it
moved- just a small ripple along its surface?
The young man watches as the Green Dragon raises its head and looks straight at him, her mouth open,
tail lashing and a low roar escaping from deep within her throat.
With one swift movement the man draws his sword. The Green Dragon only gets angrier and moves a
little closer. She attacks and the man flees, running as fast as he can over the plains and into
the forest. The Green Dragon is in pursuit, she is running as fast as her heavy body will allow
The forest is dark and eerie in the almost dark night and the man realizes he is not alone.
Tiny pinpricks of light pierce the darkness. The eyes of the Night Creatures! He is going to
have to fight and kill them first or they will have his liver before dawn. The battle is about
to begin and the future of Romar depends on the courage and heart of one brave warrior.
Be swift, young warrior and be wise, for the Green Dragon is fast approaching and she will show no
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