• The Day Dragons Became Violent

    A/N : *Normandy was a region in France during the Middle Ages.
    * King William the Conquerer was a king of England.
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    Many things happened during the medieval era, but many things that occured during that time have either been left out or have been made into a tall-tale. One of these forgotten stories is how dragons are deemed as violent creatures.

    I am Etna.

    I am a dragon.

    And this is my tale of the truth.
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    It was an average day in your generic medieval village, Flonne. You could still smell Jack's beanstalk from miles away where the giant crushed thousands of peasants with his massive foot. Or, maybe that was the smell of dung being thrown out into the cesspool. The reader shall never get the chance to inquire.

    It was a time after Bede and Charlemagne but before the Renaissance. The serfs lived on King Charlie's manor, just outside the dusty castle, and three of them were goofing off and having a jolly, ol' time.

    " Damn birds are gettin' into the corn, they are, " Serf # 1 murmured angrily in an English accent, attempting to kill a crow with a stick. " Charlie needs to get us bigger sticks to protect his corn ! "

    " We're peasants. We don't need sticks, " Serf # 2 said. " We might injure ourselves, says Charlie. We might kill ourselves, says Charlie. "

    " Charlie is a dumb bloke, " Serf # 40 muttered. " He can barely read. "

    " You can't even read. "

    " Yah, but at least I don't try to kill crows with a stick like Serf # 1. Ihave a pointy stick ! "

    " Shut up, ye stick of a pitchfork, " Serf # 1 growled. " Charlie's crows are damn nutbags ! "

    " What is a nutbag ? "

    " I LIKE THY BAG OF NUTS ! "

    " SHUDDUP ! " Serf # 1 roared, dunking Serf # 2 into a pile of dirt. " I'll burn your nutbag with fire if you don't keep quiet ! "

    Serf # 40 started to snicker. " Your nutbag was set on fire when you were born, Johnny. I wouldn't be too worried. "

    DUNK !

    " Serfs don't have names, ye stupid moron of a moron ! "

    " Because serfs don't have souls, " Serf # 2 added. " The Lord just put us here to make fun of our nutba- "

    Serf # 2 was thrown several feet into a hole of rats. He moaned loudly. " DAH ! ME BAG OF NUTS GOT BITTEN ! TIME FOR THE FOAM, YE SAVAGES ! "

    Serf # 1 cackled. " Your stimulus plan just got terminated. "

    " What's a stimulus plan ? " Serf # 40 asked.

    " I dunno. I made the word up. "

    "....What's a stimulus plan ? "

    " NO ! I SAID I MADE THE WORD UP ! "

    ".....What's a stimulus plan ? "

    " BLOODY HELL, YOU'RE SUCH A MORON ! "

    Serf # 40 stood silent before, " What's a stimulus plan ? "
    ______________________________________________________________

    Meanwhile, an elf with a triangle-shaped face was walking around the perimeter with an ogre that had a flask filled with something controversial on him. The elf, who went by the name of Serf-Man, chuckled impishly. " King Charlie is a stupid bloke. I 'ave more brains than that sluggish son of a serf, " he announced, purposely insulting his superior in public. " I should be the king of the castle, 'cause hedon't even know what a sailor is ! "

    Serf-Man turned to the alcoholic ogre. " What dost thou think, O'Greenie Cobbler ? "

    O'Greenie shrugged as he took a swig of drink from his flask. " Rubbish. Mister King Man has to be the stupidest bloke in all of England, he is. YAR ! "

    " Hehehe...an' when Charlie croaks, we'll be kings of the castle, we will. "

    " I....I (hic) wanna be a knight. "

    " Sure. But if you're going to be a knight, you have to take that a** of a horse ! "

    Serf-Man pointed to a three-nostriled horse. O'Greenie just stared. " I...I'd rather fight a bunch of Vikings than to take that- that thing ! "

    Three-Nostril Horse plopped to his side and whinnied softly. The ogre slapped his forehead. " Dah, I'll sell my soul to the king of Normandy than to take that thing ! At least the French burn you if you request it so. "

    " Aye, tis true. You could even get the unicorn to do it for you. "

    " Fire-Breathing Unicorn ? Argh, Elf, that thing is as stupid as the bloody 'orse ! "

    Serf-Man nodded. " Tis a tale of tragedy. I know of no stupider thing on Charlie's lan- "

    " WHAT'S A STIMULUS PLAN ?! "

    " NOTHING ! "

    Serf # 1 and Serf # 40 ran over Serf-Man in a blink of an eye. O'Greenie merely chuckled. " Don't count thy chickens before they hatch, Elfie. "
    ______________________________________________________________

    " Bad serfs. BAD ! "

    Serf-Man hit the three serfs in the head with a large stick. It was now sundown, and after working in the cesspool to avoid punishment, the three serfs were on the ground beside Three-Nostril Horse. O'Greenie stood above them with a twinkle in his eye. " Elfie, you really know how to punish a dumb bloke, " the ogre croaked. " You treat them like the 'orse ! "

    " Well, they aren't people ! " Serf-Man bellowed. " They're just serfs ; they don't have souls ! "

    " See ? I told you guys ! " Serf # 2 said smugly. " That means I'm the best serf ! "

    " No ! I'm the best serf - person with no soul ! " Serf # 40 corrected haughtily. " I'm the one that pushed Elfie to the ground ! "

    " Y- I'm the best serf ! "

    " Nuh-uh. "

    " Uh-huh. Charlie loves me the most ! "

    " Eww...."

    Serf # 2 grinned. " I AM THE BEST SERF-MAN PERSON ! CHARLIE LOVES ME ! "

    Suddenly, a giant man with an even bigger belly and a long beard stomped on Serf # 2's head, killing him instantly. " Oops. I killed a serfy, " the bearded man muttered. " Sorry, ev'ryone. "

    He turned to Serf-Man and picked the elf up into his enormous hands. " Jack Breadmaker from Normandy, good sir. I'm a Viking that wants your corn an' your dignity, ja ? "

    " No ! Put me down ! " the elfin creature demanded.

    -thud!-

    Jack sighed. " Elfin creature are fiery-tempered. No use trying to cook him for supper. Probably tastes tough. "

    " I do not ! "

    " No need to fear, little elfin one. You have some growing up to do before I bring you back to my friends for a feast. "

    " . . . . . . . "

    O'Greenie smirked. Serf-Man started to grumble loudly, while Serf # 40 poked Serf # 2's corpse with a stick. " Viking killed him good...."

    Serf # 1 sniffled. " I-I remember when he took that knight's gauntlets one eve and got whipped the next. Tis truly a sight to see a dumb bloke get beaten up over a piece of shiny a'mor. "

    Serf # 40 chuckled. " A'most set that powerful monk on fire by accident, he did. An' he pushed Duke Narde into the cesspool on purpose. King Charlie almost croaked over like a black cat on the thirteenth of Friday. "

    " Our little peasant...."

    " The best wife we ever had...."

    " ....What ?! "

    " Hehehe...jokin' like the jester....ow ! "

    Serf-Man punched Serf # 40 in the arm. " Son of a moron ! " he snapped. " You two can't do anything right ! The a** is dead, so throw him in a ditch ! "

    Serf # 40 blinked a couple of times before shoving his elfin superior to the ground and picking up the cadaver with Serf # 1's help. " Okay, Elfie. "

    " Grrr...."
    ______________________________________________________________

    " I hate throwin' people into ditches. "

    " Oh, shut up, Serf # 40. "

    The two serfs stepped into another patch of mud as they dragged Serf # 2's body across the field. It had been an hour since the men were sent to do the task, and by now both of the peasants felt exhausted and grumpy.

    After a few more minutes of walking and slight wandering, Serf # 40 stopped in his tracks and plopped his buttocks on a large rock, which could probably be classified as a boulder. " Geez, Serf # 2 is heavy, " he mumbled. " Three-Nostril Horse is easier to carry around than our friend...."

    Serf # 1 moaned softly. " Aye. His body is heavier than thy clothing. That elf is very un-Charlie-like, though, along with that large-eared lackey of his. "

    " Hehehe....cow. "

    " ....Son of a moro- whoa ! Puff the Magic Dragon ! "

    In front of the two serfs appeared a large, slim dragon with sparkling siver scales. Obviously a female dragon by the tone of her roar, her wings were massive and crimson-colored. An intelligent glint was in her clear-blue eyes.

    However, there was also an annoyed glint in her eyes.

    " ....My name is Etna. Not Puff. "

    Serf # 40 scratched his head. " Anty ? "

    " Etna. "

    " Anty ? "

    " Etna...."

    " Ooh ! King House ! "

    " ETNA ! "

    " Awwww....."

    Serf # 1 groaned. " Why couldn't I have been born as Three-Nostril Horse ? Whyyyyyy ? "

    Etna's right eye started to twitch. Serf # 1 directed his attention to the twitching dragon, his mouth rudely opened. " So....what's a lizard doing in our field ? " he asked. " We're supposed to be taking a dead body and put him in a ditch so the damn crows don't get in Charlie's corn, but a lizard comes across the field to ask us for something that we don't hav- "

    " FOOD ! " Serf # 40 interrupted.

    " .....NO ! "

    Serf # 1 turned back to the dragon and started to pick his nose out of annoyance. " So, Etna asks us for something that we don't ha- "

    " F- "

    " NO ! THE DRAGON ASKS US FOR SOMETHING THAT WE DON'T HAVE ! "

    Etna twitched again. " I never asked you anything, " she said slowly. " I....am here to educate you...."

    Serf # 40 shook his head. " No. It's edumacate. "

    " Motherfu-.....I come from a distant time to educate the poor peasants of King Charlie's land. "

    " Hey ! We prefer to be called serfs ! " Serf # 1 stated. " Calling us peasants make us feel 'unspecialer'. "

    " Is thou a witch, King House ? " Serf # 40 inquired, standing on one of Etna's claws.

    Etna groaned. " It's going to be a long day...."
    ______________________________________________________________

    Serf # 1, Serf # 40, Serf-Man, O'Greenie, Jack Breadmaker, Three-Nostril Horse, and Fire-Breathing Unicorn all stood in a circle just outside of the manor. Standing in front of them was Etna, looking exasperated by the expression on her face. She grumbled for a few minutes, mumbling some colorful words under her breath, before finally drawing out a thin, papery scroll from a pouch attached to her stomach.

    " A lesson of learning is learning thy letters, " the dragon started. " Therefore, we shall begin with the alphabet. A-B-C-D-E....."

    Serf # 40 started to sweat. He turned to Serf # 1. " What the hell is an alphabet ? " he whispered. " Some kinda wild pig ? "

    Serf # 1 shrugged. " I dunno, " he whispered back. " Maybe it's a list of Charlie's rules. "

    " Or a list of angels to pick Charlie up. "

    " Dunno....loose-fitting pants ? "

    " I dunno. O'Greenie, ye foul ogre, what says you ? "

    O'Greenie gave a blank stare. He tugged his earlobe pensively, drooling slightly from the corners of his mouth. " Gosh, I remember learning that word when I was a wee lad living under the armor an' sword of Knight Devington, but that was long ago - even before I came unto this village by the ships. What about you, Serf-Man ? "

    Serf-Man shook his head. " Me mum taught me naught. I grew up as a poor peasant elf, asking for food. "

    Serf # 40 moaned. " So, how do we shut the dragon u- "

    " All right ! Time for reviewing ! Serf # 40, let's begin. What begins the alphabet ? "

    Etna grinned at Serf # 40, who moaned louder. " Uhhh....George ? "

    " What ? No. It's A. "

    " George ? "

    " Ayyyyyyy. The letter A. Say it. Ayyyyy. "

    " Geeeeeeoooooooorge. WITH A J ! "

    " NO ! NOT GEORGE ! A "

    " Hehe.....thy mom is George. "

    There was silence for a few seconds before Etna stomped on Serf # 40 with her scaly foot. She snorted angrily. " I'll just bury him later on. It's not good for my record. "

    Jack Breadmaker tapped Serf # 40's corpse with his foot. It was flat as a pancake. " Poor soul never had a chance to see Vallhalla......" the Viking murmured. " Dragon, how could you do this ? "

    Serf # 1 sniffled. " He was stupid...but he was my favorite serf..."

    Etna groaned. " All right, then. Let's stop learning the alphabet. Why don't we do history next ? "

    O'Greenie looked at Etna with dismay. " I never knew that moron, though ! How am I supposed to do 'his story' when I've only been here for a decade ?! "

    " I SAID 'HISTORY', NOT 'HIS STORY' ! "

    Serf # 1 took off his shirt slowly. He spaced out of the current world for a few minutes before snapping back to attention and turning to Etna with a moronic look painted on his face. " Listen, Etna. I dunno who you are, but you're no King Charlie, " he said in a deliberately slow tone. " You killed one man, and made another wet his pants like a snifflin', little girl ! "

    O'Greenie paled slightly, once again taking a swig from his flask. The ogre coughed out of embarrassment. " Nay, me little serfy. I spilled some (hic) drink from me flask. Hehehe...."

    " ....Um....okay, then. So...you know no rules, dragon. I always knew that the female person was a society of witchcraft and evil ! I guess it goes for overfed lizards, too....."

    Serf-Man and Jack Breadmaker started to snicker loudly. Etna made a low growl deep in her throat. Gray smoke started to come out of her tiny nostrils and into the air. Her slightly bulgy and carefree, warm eyes reduced themselves to mere slits. " I come from several centuries in the future. I've done a lot of things in my life, but my patience has NEVER turned away from me. And no- WOULD YOU STOP LAUGHING AT ME ?! "

    Jack Breadmaker attempted to stifle his snickers, but failed. " Hehehe...the Black Plague shall reap your soul, ja ? And the barbarians and Vikings shall own thy soul. BWAHAHAHAH- UN ! "

    In a matter of five seconds, Jack Breadmaker was a pile of ashes. Serf # 1 gulped as Etna took one step forward towards the whimpering group. " I-I always knew that I would be killed off melodramatically by a giant dragon who's a stupid wench ! " he exclaimed. " Who would've knew that edumacation would kill the superior class, us men ? Not even being whipped with a cow whipper in the coldest hill of England, or almost being hung by the grand King William the Conquerer himself could prepare us to be vanquished by a woman dragon ! "

    (. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . )

    twitch....twitch....

    Serf-Man slapped Serf # 1 in the head. " Now you've done it ! " he hissed, his ears seeming to become pointier. " We're all dead now, because you just /had/ to insult an overgrown lizard with fire-breathing powers ! "

    " So ?! We have Fire-Breathing Unicorn ! She'll make sure that we die with dignity ! "

    " Aye, and Three-Nostril Horse is Leif Ericson, and I'm King Charlie, " O'Greenie said sarcastically. " Face it - we're dead. "
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    A few seconds later I killed all of the male peasants, including King Charlie. However, ancient people have spread a tale on me, saying that I ate their babies.

    And that is what us dragons have been titled as - blood-thirsty, violent dragons that eat babies in their spare time. Of course, that is a lie. Most dragons are friendly creatures that like to frolic in fields of flowers. We like to spend our time eating small sheep and dogs.

    So now, according to humans, dragons are violent. One small act of violence forces the dragons to be deemed violent for all eternity.

    I am Etna.

    I am a dragon.

    The dragons came out - burns everything in sight - villagers are dead - the end.

    But of course tall-tales know no truths.