ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
February 14, 2011
The suggester says: I read Beauty Sleep by ~tox2wallz some time ago and other than the fact it was hilarious, it made me think about something in writing fantasy: is it wise to send a knight dressing in plate armor to face a fire-breathing dragon or is it a good method to bake potatoes?
Literature Text
"Avast ye foul lizard! Crawl out from that hidey-hole on your belly so I may stain my blade with your impure blood!"
He stood outside the dragon's den, a gallant figure clad from head to toe in gleaming metal. Shield and sword were poised, and the crimson plume adorning his helmet flapped in the sputtering breeze.
"You may have terrorized many a kingdom and slaughtered many a valiant knight, but not I! For I come bearing my family's ancestral sword, a bright woe-bringer to all the creatures of darkness which hide in their fetid pits! Enjoy your next breaths, dragon, for they shall be your last."
Deep down in the depths of the dragon's den, a pair of bleary eyes cracked open.
Oh please not ANOTHER one.
The Dragon yawned and stretched on its hoard; a wretched fuzzy taste had settled into his mouth overnight, and a dreadful scratch lingered in the back of his throat. An inordinate amount of gagging and hacking ensued as a modest glob of mucus was expelled from his lungs. That was disgusting; he'd be sure to clean it up later.
"You cannot hide from me, feeble wyrm! The way you cower at my words in your disease-ridden hole is evidence of your fearfulness!"
The Dragon jerked his head to the side, and a series of audible pops could be heard from the nape of its neck to the tip of its tail. Fanning its wings The Dragon rose from its bed of treasure, a king's ransom in gold, gems and trinkets. Intricate tapestries hung on the walls, depicting scenes glorious, beautiful and terrifying beyond human imagination.
Disease-ridden indeed.
The Dragon huffed and strode forward, talons clicking on the cool stone surface. From this vantage point in the darkness of his threshold he could quite clearly see what form of two-legged pest had come to disturb his slumber.
He sighed; tendrils of smoke rose and coiled, questing for the bright open air. All it took was a shiny set of armor, a pointy heirloom, and suddenly they fancied themselves heroes ready to carve a name out of the nearest scaly hide. One would imagine that they'd have grown tired - or at least wary - of it by now. But if anything their numbers had increased, and this blowhard outside was the fifth of his kind this month.
"Do you hear me, serpent!? Come out so that I may pierce your black heart and claim your head as my trophy!"
At first there was silence, intruded only by the slightest whispers of the breeze and then-
"I don't wanna."
The silence was total now; even the gossiping wind had been dumbfounded.
"… Well why not!?"
Nothing moved- grinning skulls and empty eye sockets stared at him from the ground where they lay strewn about the cave, but the silence seemed more awkward than grim.
"It's morning. It's cold in the morning. How would you like it if I showed up in front of your doorstep at the crack of dawn blathering like an idiot?
The Dragon's voice carried up to The Knight, and he could smell its sulfurous breath as it wafted out from the abysmal aperture.
"B-b-but, we must do battle!"
"And why is that? I'll have you know that I haven't terrorized a kingdom in over two centuries, and they weren't even very good kingdoms. Honestly, they didn't even have the courtesy to try virgin sacrifice."
"Then you admit your crimes! Slither out so that I may slay you, Burner-of-not-very-good-kingdoms!" much dramatic sword swinging followed this, and abruptly halted as The Knight lost his footing and fell flat on his haunches.
"I admit nothing; I'd only roasted eight of you folk in my life before you tin-plated lack-wits began showing up. What is it that reassures you your end shall be any different than those blade-flailing fools before you?"
With many a clank and a tumble The Knight clambered to his feet, "My ancestral sword! A bright woe-bri-"
"Do us both a favor," the agitated growl echoed up from the cavern's concealed depths, "see that skull lying just to the left of your feet? That one came with an axe which supposedly killed a hundred dragons. And do you see that one next to it, he came with a magical longbow that he claimed belonged to the high elvish kings- oh, and that one there- no, not that one, that one; that one was almost hysterical, he came with a sling and some yarn about slaying a giant."
The Knight said nothing, sword lowered to his side; had it finally worked? Had it finally sunk in that interrupting his sleep was hazardous to metal-clad health?
"And those are just the most recent; now take in the multitude of other remains scattered in front of my home, and think. Do you really, really, really want to try your luck and test my patience with that glorified sewing pin?"
The Knight stood there, as though absorbing The Dragon's words. At long last, it seemed as though he'd convinced one of the imbeciles of their folly! He could only hope that it was the sign of a trend…
Then all at once The Knight had his sword raised yet again, and was stumbling as much as running, over the skeletons and into the lip of The Dragon's den, all the while screaming "Baaaaaaattllllllllee-."
A great jet of fire burst from the cave entrance, drowning out The Knight's moronic cry. Eventually the flow of fire ceased, revealing a charred metal husk. For the life of him, The Dragon couldn't understand why they thought heavy metal armor was a good idea. They couldn't dodge and they couldn't run; all it succeeded in doing was cooking them where they stood. They were like baked potatoes running at him in their own tinfoil.
He would never understand the human mindset.
Grumbling, the dragon turned and, with an annoyed flick of its tail, trudged back to its hoard. No doubt there'd be another influx of idiocy in the coming months, with no foreseeable end in sight. He plopped onto the treasure-pile, greeted with the noise of shifting coins and other miscellaneous objects of valuable nature. A heaving groan passed his teeth, carrying with it a plume of smoke to swirl about in the darkness.
He wouldn't bother worrying about the crisp corpse laying just outside- the goblins would come for it eventually. The Dragon honestly wouldn't mind overly much, except the blasted scoundrels kept bringing the bones back; stripped clean of skin, muscle, vital organs, and all shiny objects.
Alas, there was nothing he could do… nothing he could do but close his eyes and reclaim some of his lost sleep… he noticed the gob of greenish mucus out of the corner of his eye… he'd get it later…
Disease ridden… what does he know anyway.
He stood outside the dragon's den, a gallant figure clad from head to toe in gleaming metal. Shield and sword were poised, and the crimson plume adorning his helmet flapped in the sputtering breeze.
"You may have terrorized many a kingdom and slaughtered many a valiant knight, but not I! For I come bearing my family's ancestral sword, a bright woe-bringer to all the creatures of darkness which hide in their fetid pits! Enjoy your next breaths, dragon, for they shall be your last."
Deep down in the depths of the dragon's den, a pair of bleary eyes cracked open.
Oh please not ANOTHER one.
The Dragon yawned and stretched on its hoard; a wretched fuzzy taste had settled into his mouth overnight, and a dreadful scratch lingered in the back of his throat. An inordinate amount of gagging and hacking ensued as a modest glob of mucus was expelled from his lungs. That was disgusting; he'd be sure to clean it up later.
"You cannot hide from me, feeble wyrm! The way you cower at my words in your disease-ridden hole is evidence of your fearfulness!"
The Dragon jerked his head to the side, and a series of audible pops could be heard from the nape of its neck to the tip of its tail. Fanning its wings The Dragon rose from its bed of treasure, a king's ransom in gold, gems and trinkets. Intricate tapestries hung on the walls, depicting scenes glorious, beautiful and terrifying beyond human imagination.
Disease-ridden indeed.
The Dragon huffed and strode forward, talons clicking on the cool stone surface. From this vantage point in the darkness of his threshold he could quite clearly see what form of two-legged pest had come to disturb his slumber.
He sighed; tendrils of smoke rose and coiled, questing for the bright open air. All it took was a shiny set of armor, a pointy heirloom, and suddenly they fancied themselves heroes ready to carve a name out of the nearest scaly hide. One would imagine that they'd have grown tired - or at least wary - of it by now. But if anything their numbers had increased, and this blowhard outside was the fifth of his kind this month.
"Do you hear me, serpent!? Come out so that I may pierce your black heart and claim your head as my trophy!"
At first there was silence, intruded only by the slightest whispers of the breeze and then-
"I don't wanna."
The silence was total now; even the gossiping wind had been dumbfounded.
"… Well why not!?"
Nothing moved- grinning skulls and empty eye sockets stared at him from the ground where they lay strewn about the cave, but the silence seemed more awkward than grim.
"It's morning. It's cold in the morning. How would you like it if I showed up in front of your doorstep at the crack of dawn blathering like an idiot?
The Dragon's voice carried up to The Knight, and he could smell its sulfurous breath as it wafted out from the abysmal aperture.
"B-b-but, we must do battle!"
"And why is that? I'll have you know that I haven't terrorized a kingdom in over two centuries, and they weren't even very good kingdoms. Honestly, they didn't even have the courtesy to try virgin sacrifice."
"Then you admit your crimes! Slither out so that I may slay you, Burner-of-not-very-good-kingdoms!" much dramatic sword swinging followed this, and abruptly halted as The Knight lost his footing and fell flat on his haunches.
"I admit nothing; I'd only roasted eight of you folk in my life before you tin-plated lack-wits began showing up. What is it that reassures you your end shall be any different than those blade-flailing fools before you?"
With many a clank and a tumble The Knight clambered to his feet, "My ancestral sword! A bright woe-bri-"
"Do us both a favor," the agitated growl echoed up from the cavern's concealed depths, "see that skull lying just to the left of your feet? That one came with an axe which supposedly killed a hundred dragons. And do you see that one next to it, he came with a magical longbow that he claimed belonged to the high elvish kings- oh, and that one there- no, not that one, that one; that one was almost hysterical, he came with a sling and some yarn about slaying a giant."
The Knight said nothing, sword lowered to his side; had it finally worked? Had it finally sunk in that interrupting his sleep was hazardous to metal-clad health?
"And those are just the most recent; now take in the multitude of other remains scattered in front of my home, and think. Do you really, really, really want to try your luck and test my patience with that glorified sewing pin?"
The Knight stood there, as though absorbing The Dragon's words. At long last, it seemed as though he'd convinced one of the imbeciles of their folly! He could only hope that it was the sign of a trend…
Then all at once The Knight had his sword raised yet again, and was stumbling as much as running, over the skeletons and into the lip of The Dragon's den, all the while screaming "Baaaaaaattllllllllee-."
A great jet of fire burst from the cave entrance, drowning out The Knight's moronic cry. Eventually the flow of fire ceased, revealing a charred metal husk. For the life of him, The Dragon couldn't understand why they thought heavy metal armor was a good idea. They couldn't dodge and they couldn't run; all it succeeded in doing was cooking them where they stood. They were like baked potatoes running at him in their own tinfoil.
He would never understand the human mindset.
Grumbling, the dragon turned and, with an annoyed flick of its tail, trudged back to its hoard. No doubt there'd be another influx of idiocy in the coming months, with no foreseeable end in sight. He plopped onto the treasure-pile, greeted with the noise of shifting coins and other miscellaneous objects of valuable nature. A heaving groan passed his teeth, carrying with it a plume of smoke to swirl about in the darkness.
He wouldn't bother worrying about the crisp corpse laying just outside- the goblins would come for it eventually. The Dragon honestly wouldn't mind overly much, except the blasted scoundrels kept bringing the bones back; stripped clean of skin, muscle, vital organs, and all shiny objects.
Alas, there was nothing he could do… nothing he could do but close his eyes and reclaim some of his lost sleep… he noticed the gob of greenish mucus out of the corner of his eye… he'd get it later…
Disease ridden… what does he know anyway.
Literature
Chemical Attractions, Part I
We can learn a lot from salt.
The chlorine atom is fundamentally lacking, longing to fill that gaping hole in its valence shell, and those bright bits of energy dancing in amorphous clouds around a sodium atom are just too tempting for the poor chlorine to resist. Chlorine probably knows that it has no claim to those electrons. It might lie awake at night for days or weeks in a fit of conscience, seeking alternatives before sending out tentative feelers and inviting Sodium to join it for coffee... It's a romantic comedy in minature, and I think that we can skip over the montage of dates and dinners and late nights on the couch in front of a
Literature
Flutterings
It hurted.
My stomach was hurting for days. Mama said it was probably ulcer or maybe my drinking of so much Coke. But I ate and I ate and never drank Coke, and still my stomach hurted. Even if Mama went to the place where herbal plants grow to get a bunch of leaves so that she could squish them and put them in my drink, my stomach didn't stop hurting.
Papa said it was time to call the doctor, so he put on his funny straw hat and went to call the doctor. And when he came back, there was a funny-looking man that followed him into our little house. He had long kinky hair with white stuff in it and when he smiled he had very few teeth. His skin
Literature
if this world makes you crazy.
Three days before his third birthday, my brother's computer started misbehaving.
-
He was small at birth, our little illegal boy was, and ugly as day.
Although the world's resources crumbling to its knees, no one could have denied my mother of her "accidental" embryo, even while They broke into houses and took women to the quack doctor to eliminate any suspicious growths "in the name of the law". We went through geneticists and neurologists, trying to fit an old computer from Grandma's time into the next generation. We dug deep into emergency stashes and back-up loans and "30310's College Fund", and came up with just enough to satisfy one
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
He isn't evil, he's grumpy
I'm happy with this piece if I don't say so myself. ^^ Really, if you think about it, there isn't any logic at all behind hunting dragons while encased in a metal self-cooker. xD
Anyway, if you find any errors I'd be more than pleased to know, if anyone has any edits or suggestions I'd love to hear them, and I'll fix up any outright errors ASAP
Thank you all for taking the time to read; comment, critique, criticize, silence, all is welcome, I hope that you enjoyed it! ^^
I'm happy with this piece if I don't say so myself. ^^ Really, if you think about it, there isn't any logic at all behind hunting dragons while encased in a metal self-cooker. xD
Anyway, if you find any errors I'd be more than pleased to know, if anyone has any edits or suggestions I'd love to hear them, and I'll fix up any outright errors ASAP
Thank you all for taking the time to read; comment, critique, criticize, silence, all is welcome, I hope that you enjoyed it! ^^
© 2010 - 2024 tox2wallz
Comments195
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Overall
Vision
Originality
Technique
Impact
This was a good story. ^^ It's the kind of story that lifts the spirits of one who's had a long day.
Some suggestions, however:
--Don't capitalize "The Dragon" in the beginning because it isn't necessary. And I know there aren't very many descriptions of dragons, but you shouldn't use the word "dragon" itself so often either. ^^ I think a thesaurus might help with that.
--Enjoy your next breaths dragon, they shall be your last. A comma before "dragon" and either a "for" after the comma (because it sounds better) or a dash ( -- )
--Don't need the "And" at the beginning of the next sentence, and a comma after "den"
--In the next paragraph you switch halfway from "it" to "him".. which is it? <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/a/a…" width="19" height="19" alt="" title="Sweating a little..."/>
--That was disgusting, he'd be sure to clean it up later. The comma either needs to be a semicolon or you need a "but" after it.
--a comma needs to be in front of "feeble wyrm"
--The Dragon rose from its bed of treasure; a king's ransom in gold, gems and trinkets; intricate tapestries hung on the walls, depicting scenes glorious, beautiful and terrifying beyond human imagination. A very long sentence, and not punctuated correctly (also you go back to "it" again..) Semicolons ( ; ) are conjunctions. They mean "and" and "but". So you don't need any of the semicolons used in that sentence. Instead I suggest breaking it into smaller sentences and going on a mini-description as to (maybe) how the dragon gained possession of those items.
--One would imagine that they'd grow tired - or at least wary - of it by now. Wary means cautious, uncertain, alert, and paying attention. Weary means tiring of, getting bored with, indifferent/apathetic (though not often). Do you mean wary? If so, why would the humans become wary after all this time? Oh, and "grow" is "grown"
--comma before "serpent"
--Is the dragon's name "The Dragon" and is the knight's (fool's <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/x/x…" width="15" height="15" alt="" title="XD"/> ) name "The Knight" because if they aren't then they shouldn't be capitalized.
--...a kingdom in over two centuries; and they weren't even... get rid of the "and" or replace the semicolon with a comma.
--Grumbling the dragon turned, and with an annoyed flick of its tail trudged back to its hoard. Comma after "grumbling" and move the comma after "turned" to after "and" and add another after "tail"
--Don't use -ly adverbs too often because, if not used in moderation, they often bring down a piece. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/a/a…" width="19" height="19" alt="" title="Sweating a little..."/> That's not regarding just this piece, but any piece you come up with. You want 1 or 2 per every 200 or 300 words (so I've heard from more experienced writers than I <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/a/a…" width="19" height="19" alt="" title="Sweating a little..."/> )
Good Points:
--I love the first line. It's honestly my favorite in the entire piece. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/m/m…" width="15" height="15" alt="" title="Meow :3"/> A great attention-getter.
--The comparison of the knights to foil-wrapped potatoes is fantastic. xD It certainly illustrates a dragon's POV best.
--I think you've really captured the dragon's "voice" down. ^^ The phrases ("for the life of him") really nail down the type of language used back then (in my opinion)
--The knight is a humorous (and accurate, I might say <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/w/w…" width="15" height="15" alt="" title=" (Wink)"/> ) representation of what fairytale knights were often like in the storybooks.
I'm sorry for the really long critique. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/a/a…" width="19" height="19" alt="" title="Sweating a little..."/> This is a really great piece that could be even better. Your main problems are commas, sorry to say, but that's okay. (I advise studying up on those. ;] ) I hope this helps some, and thanks for a great read. ^^