More dragon stories? Count me in

It makes me sad that this couldn't be css. The only way not to mess up the dog in the process was if it used transform instead lol

Wonderful, thanks for writing!

A lawyer who is part dragon has an extremely important case going to trial; however she is currently molting.

>>“VALLY”

“Behold the Angels!”

The sermon began the same way every week. I had been attending services regularly with my sister for almost a year now. Both our parents had been killed, and it wasn’t long before we found sanctuary in the reclaimed Cathedral, one of the few intact buildings in the area. I noticed a young child meekly take a seat in the rear pew.

Flyers for the “Church of One and All” littered barren streets, promising juice, coffee, and baked goods after services, an effort to restore a sense of community and faith in neighbors, all but lost in this age of hopelessness and constant paranoia.

Our parents feared we’d join the commune, a rapidly growing and expanding directly behind the ancient cathedral, walled off and protected.

The city used to house millions, within a year it was thousands, but the church was working to save as many as possible.

“…forever may they reign.” The reverend finished, raising his arms. There was a hum of tiny turbines, as dozens of small, aerial drones, lifted a few meters into the air. They emitted intense and multicolored light displays, pulsing in rhythmic patterns, bringing with them a sense of well-being that built to a crescendo of complete euphoria. It was if I was taking a warm and soothing bath after years of living on cold, dirty, ground.

The drones descended, the lights faded. The entire congregation was now visibly relaxed and content. We filed out the back to resume our labors, our newest congregant blissfully in tow. I changed into my work clothes and resumed stacking bodies. As I lifted and placed each corpse, I was grateful to the previous generations, whose ingenuity and later sacrifices, delivered us from evil. They brought forth the angels, truly a gift from god.

^299 ^words >> [1st edit: grammar] >> [2nd edit: Length, Clarity, and Content]

They say you can get anything in Salliverna. Unfortunately, that includes not just goods and services, but also guests. Part and parcel of being the last major city before the most dangerous wilderness known to civilization.

As a royally-blessed inn and tavern for the extremely powerful (who are often rich, or useful enough that they don't need money), we have been put to the test again and again. Hurriedly built sky stables for a flock of young Wyverns, who will accept fish but are partial to rabbit; custom smithing for honeymooning royalty after he got caught with a courtesan who was not as discreet as ours would have been; the bones of the recently deceased, ethically sourced, are actually one of our more common offerings. But this?

The young lord is one of the better clients. He tips generously, does not start or encourage trouble, and makes no unreasonable requests. He seems embarrassed to be making this one.

"Yes, I was hoping for a flourless bread. Flour breads seem to disturb my stomach greatly, but I miss the taste."

"Would a bread made of rye be suitable?" I inquire.

He checks a scrivened list. I recognize Merdockai's monogrammed parchment.

"I'm afraid not."

"Perhaps I may examine the list of ingredients that are to be avoided in the bread? I can not make any guarantees that we will be able to get it today, but if such a thing can be arranged I will take care of it."

Wheat, rye, oats, barley. I wonder if I can think of grains that are not included on the list. I fail. I note down these requirements. If he wanted something simple, like the head of a lesser dragon, it'd be a small matter of posting a notice on our request board. Some intrepid adventurer would slay one for a mere two nights and fare in our standard rooms. Even the horns of a Skerrelack could be gained by sending a sparrowhawk to Hardegger, the great hermit of the Deep Wilds. But flourless bread?

The in-house baker suggests an alchemist. The Alchemist suggests a witch with culinary specialty. The witch laughs in my face. I am forced to my last resort. It feels almost like a failure to do it, but I am compelled once more.

I cover my work attire with a ragged cloak as I pass from the clean, safe, cobbled streets, into a labyrinth of gravel strewn alleys. The reek of urine, rotting vegetables, and some complex, horrid mix of other things assaults my nose. Bodies lay on the sides of the ditches, pressed up against the squat, unsteady daub and wattle houses. The bodies may or may not still be breathing. I clutch my dagger close. No one makes eye contact on this street, but all of our eyes are flicking and active as we move quickly, knowingly through the maze. There are only two kinds in this place, locals and prey.

I arrive at the wooden door. It is more solid than it looks. I take a deep breath.

˜˜˜

The young lord checks with me twice, that no flour of wheat, rye, oats, or barley has touched this bread. It looks like bread. It smells like bread, but there is some subtle difference. I inform him it won't be entirely the same, but it ought to be fairly close. Imported rice is sourced from the far east and finely powdered. Mountain roots from the lofty empires of the Ocolacolt range, boiled, mashed, dried. Yeast cultivated in the hotels own vats. Seeds from the great mill cities. I am not merely fishing for tips. I have written a recipe so that he may request it in the future. He smiles. He lifts it to his mouth.

˜˜˜

I knock at the door. It swings open, a waft of other scents overriding the foul miasma of the labyrinthine ghetto. Familiar eyes crinkle. "Mishalla! You do not come here enough, you ungrateful wretch."

I hug the old woman. "I know. I've got another work problem, mom."

She waves a hand that somehow manages to be at once pudgy and bony. "Work later, have some tea first."

˜˜˜

The young lord's face loosens in pleasure. He chews, and murmurs in delight. He opens his eyes.

"How do you do it?" he asks. "No place I've been has managed it before."

"An old, and powerful magic," I reply.

Yes! Fire is going on an adventure :D

And the sacrifice is part of their peace treaty where in exchange for the land the dragons can live on (i.e. not being eradicated) they have to give up one healthy adult dragon every 50 years (dragons reach puberty at 50 years and can produce children which is why this frequency was decided) for the humans to study. The sacrifice usually survives but it's a miserable life because they're treated like a lab rat. Because Fire is a child and refuses to obediently comply he finds all sorts of ways to escape. Although the escapades are short it gives him a chance to help and befriend other humans who then in turn try to help him!

Another series that's built on this premise is the Wizardry series by Rick Cook.

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Nice

Aww thank you!

And yes, Fire is fine (: I didn't write the rest of the story but the scientists want dragons to study them and distill magic from their blood. Fire isn't afraid of humans or anyone really (he's a feisty one!) so he keeps fighting back and escaping and in the process befriends humans and they help each other!

Magical girl develops the ability to conjure a magic M16

The patterns in these letter blinks are strangely comforting.

[removed]

Cleaning my keyboard of the coffee I just spewed... ;)

Would it be illegal to use an insect as the ‘drone’?

I love this. I can almost hear the dragon saying UwU.

Hahahaha! Oh this is brilliant, we both had the exact same idea for the punchline! I love it, well done! :D

🤯 GENIUS! YOU FLIPPED IT!!

THE MIGHTY DRAGONS BEING ENSLAVED AND CHOSEN FOR SACRIFICE IS AN OUTSTANDING IDEA 💡 WAW I LOVE '' FIRE''' NOW!! IS HE GOING TO BE OK? 😥

“Oh no oh no oh no I’m so sorry oh my Bahamut–”

The dragon’s horrified rambling distorted into a wordless wail as they backed away, pressing themselves against the rough stone wall and curling up into a tight ball. They trembled as their wide-eyed gaze flicked from the broken, red smear on the floor to their own bloodied claws and back again.

“I swear I didn’t mean to!” they continued, their voice anguished. “But he just came swinging at me with that axe and I panicked and then I hit him and he–”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay!” Mara said, carefully placing her bow on the floor and stepping forward with her arms held far away from her sheathed daggers. “Well– okay, it isn’t okay, but it was an accident! We all know Brock, he’s a bit of a hothead and, to be frank, a huge idiot.”

“That he is!” Samson agreed, bent over the unlucky Fighter’s body. “But not to worry, we can still fix this.”

The dragon sniffled. “You can? He’s going to be okay?”

Samson rolled up his sleeves and shook his holy amulet free from inside his robes. “Oh, certainly. He’s more or less intact, so getting him back to the living is a pretty simple matter. Just need a few diamonds and a minute or two to focus.”

The dragon still looked terrified, their sides heaving like bellows as they took rapid, gasping breaths.

Mara felt a tug on her sleeve and looked down. Posie was beckoning her closer, the little gnome’s face serious beneath her wide-brimmed, pointed hat.

“She’s still spooked,” Posie whispered into Mara’s ear when she knelt down, “you’d better try to keep her calm while Samson puts Brock back together again.”

“Why me?” Mara hissed, glancing apprehensively at the dragon who had so easily dispatched their strongest party member. “Didn’t you see what that dragon did to Brock?”

“Samson is busy and you’ve already started talking to her! She hasn’t burnt us to a crisp yet, but that can change! Now hurry up!”

Mara yelped and skittered forward as she felt the hard wood of the little wizard’s staff smack her buttocks. She nearly turned to strangle the miniscule magician, but caught herself as the still-terrified dragon echoed her own exclamation with a shriek of her own.

“Sorry, sorry!” Mara soothed, her arms held wide. “I didn’t mean to shout, promise.” She took a cautious step forward. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Bri–” the dragon hiccuped. “Brimstone.”

“That’s a nice name.” She kept up her slow approach, a gentle smile on her face. “Have you lived here long?”

“No, I just moved in last month. I’d heard there was an old abandoned ruin in this area, and I figured I might extend the cellar into a proper lair…” the dragon trailed off and tried to back away from Mara, sliding along the wall. “There was no-one here when I moved in! I swear, not even a tribe of Kobolds!”

“It’s okay! We know. The only reason we came here in the first place was to find some shelter from the rain outside – we went down here to escape the worst of the wind.” Mara stopped an arm’s length away from Brimstone and smiled up at her. “I’m sorry we spooked you.”

Brimstone returned the smile with a shaky one of her own. “It’s alright. Again, I’m so sorry about your friend, truly…”

Mara looked over her shoulder to watch Samson working his magic over Brock’s body, golden sparkles drifting prettily in the air around him as Posie looked on. “Oh, Samson will have him fixed up in a minute. In the meantime–” she fished a handkerchief out of her pocket. “Do you want some help with that?”

Brimstone blinked, following Mara’s gaze to her own bloodied claws. She shuddered and looked away again, hiding her head beneath a wing. “Yes, please. I really don’t want to lick that off.”

She extended her leg and spread her claws wide, her face scrunched up as she looked away, eyes shut. Mara gently took one sword-length talon and began wiping it clean, feeling the tension in Brimstone’s muscles ease with every stroke.

“There. That’s much better, don’t you think?”

Brimstone peered down at her claws through one eye, sagging with relief as she saw them clean. “Yes, thank you! That is so much better. Though I’m sorry you ruined your handkerchief…”

“What, this old thing?” Mara laughed, stuffing the stained cloth back into her pocket. “Not the first time I wipe up Brock’s blood with it, and it won’t be the last!” She patted Brimstone’s claw. “Worth it to cheer you up.”

The dragon tittered, her tail wagging gently back and forth behind her. “Oh, what a lady. I might just–”

”HAH! I’m back! Have at you, dragon! You won’t best me twice!”

“No, Brock, wait–!”

Mara threw herself flat as Brimstone shrieked with panic. The dragon spun, her tail flying through the air like a living battering ram and impacting the just-revived Brock in the chest with a gasp of expelled air and the crumple of shattering armour.

A second later he smacked into the far wall with enough force to crack the stone, sticking wetly for a moment as he coughed.

Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slid off the wall, leaving a bloody red trail behind.

Mara, Posie and Samson just stared.

”Oh my Bahamut!” Poor Brimstone wailed. “Not again!”

Been a while since I answered a prompt! Feels good to get back in the game! :D

Thanks for the great prompt, and thank you for reading!

Feel free to check out r/ZetakhWritesStuff for more dragon stories!

Journey to the center of the Earth

They're probably in an ssh session to a main server or sth, maybe everyone had a home directory.

The "Jesus sudo Christ" got me lol

Yeah, I get that a lot. Too old and stubborn to add more exposition. I try to make either the characters or dialogue worth reading, anyway.

The basic principles and setup should be clear enough from the text, though.

1. Needs are not desires. I saw that somebody else wrote that, too.

2. Wishes are efficient, to a point. If it's more efficient to make the narrator/protagonist simply not need something, that's what happens. Instead of eating, he'll simply never be hungry.

3. When the wish was originally made, the protagonist/narrator had a genie right next to him. Even though his next wish freed the genie from the usual "lamp and contract" bullshit, his previous wish seized upon the "freed" genie as a power source to easily and efficiently fulfill the narrator's needs. It was right there. Everything worked out. The genie became trapped yet again.

Then things get a little murkier - and watch reddit turn what's supposed to be a "4" list item below into a "1" because it's so ingenious. (Holy shit, it didn't!)

4. The genie is not a human, nor of the prime material plane natively. His "species," for lack of a better term, is fundamentally different. Even when utterly whammied by a wish, it has natural defenses it can use to try to escape from them. The genie eventually escaped from his new prison by overloading it. He provided the narrator with so much love, friendship, and even primal pleasures that the wish's control over him slipped. He fled, leaving the narrator to eventually experience what he should've all along: the near-infinite slumber of total need-death.

5. Because the narrator failed to wish for the best wish - the only wish one should ever wish for - his wish was extremely powerful, but not infinitely so. Eventually, reality itself insisted that something needed to happen: a prime material plane needed to wind down and end. The wish delayed it for a long time, but it could not delay it forever.

6. That brings us to the pivot point of the story: where suspension of disbelief must allow the protagonist and genie to roughly fulfill the terms of the prompt. For reasons left to gods and cosmic forces, the narrator was given a second chance to wish for that one best wish.

He first wished to exit the plane, but did so in such a way that delayed need-death. He wished to continue the business with the genie.

He then wished to become god - the only wish one should ever wish for. However, he was able to remain where he was even after shoring up his first set of wishes, on an ethereal plane, to continue and conclude his business. See the first new wish, above.

For his third wish, he granted the genie true godhood, too - the only thing that can ever truly free anyone. Their business concluded, the narrator was finally ejected from that ethereal plane and placed in his own pocket reality. The genie was placed in his.

It turns out the narrator was not such a bad guy after all. He'd just stumbled onto one of those infinite, pernicious middle grounds between pedestrian wishes and the one best wish. Even though he spent an eternity not feeling guilty - because he didn't need to - when given a second chance, he finally got it right.

It happened only two months ago. I saw it with my own eyes. I was finishing up with my work and took a quick look outside the window. As I was inspecting the buildings and traffic, a sudden flash of light replaced the darkness.

All the cars had stopped moving and many people were looking up with a shocked face. I needed a few moments to adjust back to the dimmer sky after the bright light had disappeared.There it was: the moon. But not quite like I've seen it my whole life. It had colors. Green. Gold. Blue.

I rushed home, because I had a telescope, so I really wanted to check out that new object, which had just appeared. After I had set up everything, I was ready to take a closer look. There it was, in all its beauty. I still couldn't make much out of it, but I saw moving dots that had me wondering.

Suddenly, however, all the lights went out for a few seconds. I quickly looked up, and to my surprise, the moon was back up again, in all its' whiteness.

The next day, the media was a mess. Everyone was talking about this incident. There were scientists all around the world researching information about this mystery. On the other end, there were protests and fake news everywhere saying that this was the government tricking us.

After a few weeks, NASA has announced that there will be an expedition to the moon on which 100 enthusiastic civilians can participate. Long story short, I made every requirement for my application, and I was actually selected. There was a month of training for the mission, and after that, 40 rockets had been launched from Earth.

The trip took only a few days, but as we were getting closer, each of us started having weird visions. I was lucky enough to only have a few hallucinations, but other members of the crew saw... things. Things of pure evil, as they have been described. It got to a point where people started taking their eyes out with their hands.

My condition was getting worse as well: I felt a headache. Soon I was in a lush environment with green and even golden trees. Rivers as beautiful as one can imagine. Strange, stone-like creatures were roaming around the terrain. They looked happy... Soon, black dots appeared in the sky. The stone man looked up, and after that, they started killing each other and hurting themselves. Black liquid poured from their bodies as they fell to the ground. Minutes after they got up, they started destroying and consuming everything in their path. I was standing there, oblivious to what was going on. I started taking steps back slowly; however, one of them heard me. The last thing I remember from the vision was getting torn in half by a stone creature.

When I opened my eyes, to my horror, I was tied to a chair. I looked at my arms, and my veins were dark black. I yelled:

-"What the fuck??"

-"Don't you what the fuck to me; you just ate one of our crew members!" exclaimed the captain.

-"Wha-, That-, I-, (a sudden feeling of rage filled my body) I DIDN'T"

-"Yes you did, and now please calm the fuck down; we have a long path ahead of us; we are canceling the mission!"

-"We can't return I had a vi-" (my sight had disappeared, I only heard the sounds of flesh tearing apart ahead of me. After that, I felt a sort of connection in front of me. Like I felt that other person standing there. In fact, I felt it everywhere around me—40 different piles of energy heading towards our home...