The Problem with Dragons
by Egil Njalsson
(April 1993)

PART ONE -- A STREAM OF THOUGHT

I fly freely, my leathery wings barely stirring as I catch an updraft and glide gently up the slopes of the mountain which is my home. I shift my weight minutely, and my rise becomes a gentle curve swinging me out over the plains far below. I gaze intently at the grasslands, watching for signs of movement; seeing none. I lift my eyes and stare toward the river, in the direction of the cluster of small structures inhabited by the mites. I see that one of the mites is bringing his herd of fattened animals out to graze in the fertile valley on the other side of the river. My wings beating silently, I soar in the direction of the slow-moving meal.

High above the herd, I circle, selecting the one which will be my food. I glance at the mite -- he has not noticed me. I target one of the animals and fold my wings tightly against my body.

I plummet towards the earth, the air thundering as it seeks to hold me back. As I near the ground, I bring just the tips of my wings out, and my fall becomes a swoop. I open my jaws, and catch the frightened animal as it attempts to flee. My swoop carries me back upwards, my meal clenched firmly in my teeth, as the mite and his animals scatter, panicked, in all directions.

Silently I thank the mite for providing this meal. I mean the mites no harm, but I must eat. If I cannot find what I want in the open, then I will take what I can find wherever I find it. I am Aderflose Thula, the Great Worm, and none dare resist me. Those who attempt to stop me shall perish.

I return to my mountain, and land upon the ledge that marks the entrance to my cavernous home. Silently, warily, I begin to eat.

Suddenly my instincts tell me to pause, and sniff. Yes, there it is. The smell of mites. Mites have been here. My hoard. I must inspect my hoard.

Quietly, I crawl through the tunnels. As I move toward the cavern which shields my hoard, the smell of mites becomes more intense. I round the last corner, and see them. Mites.

There are nearly a dozen of them, and by the light of their small firesticks I see them panic as they spot me. Many of them grab small pieces of metal and rush toward me. Feigning fear, I withdraw, retreating around the corner and back down the tunnel. I do not fear the mites, but I do not wish to damage my treasure.

Selecting a narrow spot in the passageway, I stop and wait. The mites foolishly run to confront me. Nine... ten... eleven... That seems to be all of them. Some in the back send small slivers of wood flying towards me, which strike my scales and bounce harmlessly away. Others begin to make strange gestures and utter strange sounds as blue auras surround them. I take no notice. The ones in front scream boldly as they wave their puny pieces of metal and rush me. I wait until they are almost upon me.

Fluidly, I rise up on my hind legs, letting the mites see the full glory of my glistening scales. I inhale deeply, my eyes glowing a fiery red. I am Aderflose Thula, the Great Worm, and none dare resist me. Those who attempt to stop me shall perish. With one long exhalation of flame, I incinerate the helpless figures before me. Waving my head from side to side as the flame continues, I make sure to catch all of them. Nine... ten... eleven... That seems to be all of them.

I stop to rest, gazing at the pillars of fire dotting the tunnel, watching for signs of life. There are none. Slowly, the fires die down, and I move back in the direction of my hoard. Suddenly something catches my eye: next to one of the piles of ash lies a piece of metal which did not melt under my breath. Hmm... It looks pretty. I think I'll keep it.

PART TWO -- AN EDITORIAL

Something has got to be done about Aderflose Thula. That damn serpent has got this whole town on its knees, and it's about time we did something about it.

It's getting so the children can't play outside for fear of the dragon. Herdsmen can't take their livestock out to graze. And have you noticed that there are fewer caravans coming through town? Many of them are starting to take routes which will bypass our town, and that habit will lead to the eventual isolation of Gantek, if we don't do something fast.

Many raiding parties have been sent to the worm's lair to recover some of the valuables we know are there -- treasures that could help to pay for some of the damage that creature has done. But you know how most of them end up. Of the thirteen expeditions to the dragon's lair in the past year, only two have returned. I myself lost my youngest son in the eleven-member raid last week, and I'm not just going to sit here and accept it.

That's why I'm calling on you, the citizens of Gantek, to band together and stop this creature. I'm not asking you to risk your lives -- most of us would have no chance physically attacking the creature. Instead, I'm asking you to risk your material goods. We've got to hire a band of experienced fighters to go up to that lair and take care of that worm once and for all.

To that end, I'm willing to offer one-third of my estate, such as it is, as my part of the payment. Who is with me? If enough of us are willing to pitch in, we should be able to hire the quality of mercenaries who are capable of getting the job done. But this can only be accomplished if we work together. We need to offer the largest payment we can possibly afford. If the mission is successful, our payment will be reimbursed by the dragon's treasure hoard, with some to spare. If it is not successful, we won't have to pay the corpses of those we hired. Either way, you should get your investment back.

I call for a village gathering one week from today, on the green outside the smithy. If you support this cause; if you support a free Gantek; if you want your children to be able to live without fear; then be there with your pledge of support. Together we can rid ourselves of that scourge, Aderflose Thula.

PART THREE -- A REPORT

A great battle was fought yesterday outside the small village of Gantek, near the Cougar River. The great dragon, Aderflose Thula, which had been menacing the area for several years, was defeated by an experienced band of mercenaries. The following report is based on eyewitness accounts of survivors of the battle.

The band was led by the well-respected Egil the Priest, and his son, the less-respected Bjarni the Woodsman. Leading a large party of fighters and wizards, they came to Gantek to claim the generous reward which had been offered for the death of the great beast.

Under the direction of Bjarni, the group had some trouble finding the dragon's lair, but had an easier time once Egil noticed the well-defined path which had been made by thirteen previous raiding parties. They made their way into the lair, and found the hoard unguarded. They prepared a trap, and awaited the creature's return.

Late in the afternoon their wait was rewarded. The careful ears of Bjarni heard the faint sounds of the dragon on its ledge as it ripped flesh from the cow it had just stolen. At this point the dragon must have sensed their presence, or more likely Bjarni's presence, for it left its meal half-eaten and scurried unerringly down the tunnel in their direction, following a path of small pieces of sausage. Turning a corner, it spotted the crew already in battle formation. With a mighty bellowing roar from both sides, battle was joined.

Powerful enchantments protected many of the mercenaries from the full fury of the dragon's fiery breath, but many members fell to the powerful claws or fierce bite of the worm. Indeed, for a time it seemed that the battle might be lost, as one warrior after another succumbed to the superior force of the great beast.

The dragon had nearly decimated the front line of the attackers, and was rearing up to charge those in the back, when it heard a low rumbling sound coming from the entrance to its lair. Turning, it watched to see what had caused the noise, and found itself looking down the barrel of what Egil called "an M-1 tank," which had been summoned from the future at great personal risk by the combined efforts of the most powerful wizards in the party.Those who knew what to expect dove for what little cover was available, while some of the less intelligent ones walked up next to the dragon to stare at this new phenomenon. Without warning, a powerful blast was heard, and the dragon's head exploded into tiny fragments. The repercussions of the blast killed many of those standing by, and deafened the rest for several hours. With a shimmer, the tank disappeared.

When they had regained consciousness and were able to stand, Egil, Bjarni, and the rest of the survivors limped back to Gantek, seeming to be in a hurry. They collected their reward gratefully and left immediately, looking around with evident nervousness. They evidently had no intentions of accepting the town's hearty invitation to stay for the celebrations which began immediately and continued throughout the night. Reports indicate that they are trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the thankful little village of Gantek.

Memorial services for Aderflose Thula will be held tomorrow in the valley outside of Gantek. Approximately one hundred of the dragon's friends and relatives are expected to attend.

They will not be happy...

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