Until you're in a game and hear "tu pata choom choom pa choom, neh?"

And here I thought it was going to be either this (marked NSFW primarily for implications) or that S(?)lay the dragon comic that I can't find right now.

Ah but there is a single universal language for humans. A single tongue all speak and understand, from the day they are born to the day they die. Sure, nuance to this tongue might come with age, but it’s understood as clearly as hunger or thirst.

Violence.

Writergal, for real this shit made me laugh. Out loud as in wife looking over at me with furrowed brow. (Whether vexed or amused is to be determined.)

Seriously entertaining, please keep posting - I’ll be looking out for ‘em!

I mean, better to be pampered than having random knights come to pick a fight eh?

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD, SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE

Well, Mabey there is more to the story of the tower of Babel then we thought

This is my fourth global Keeneetaa symposium and I am tired. Tired of the constant bickering amongst the supposed best and brightest. So called giants from every conceivable field and discipline. Maylor from CERN, Andrews from Stamford, Shyapranapree from MIT, Nobel prize winners one and all. And for what?

By human standards these minds are exceptional. But cosmically they are comically limited. We know that now. The sheer hubris of the Copernican principle and the assumption of its modesty. Humans are special. But special in the way a parent never wants to hear their child described. And this annual gathering, with its formality, its ceremony and its pomposity. It makes these bones ache.

But here I am once again, standing shoulder to shoulder with self proclaimed titans. Unable to resist the invitation to the dance. Like a child drawn to a circus of freaks, I watch through splayed fingers. Ashamed by my fascination, yet thrilled by the absurdity of their being.

“Gremio, you made it old boy.”

Fuck. The last person I wanted to bump into was this clown.

“Maylor you old dog. Travelling light as always.” I say as I count his bags.

Four fucking cases and a giant chest. Louis Vuitton, of course, and his partner with her toy dog in a matching handbag.

”Are you joining us this evening?” Maylor asks.

”No, I need to catch up on some reading before the fun starts.”

”Pity, old boy. Everyone always finds you so entertaining.” Maylor says with a wry smile, before turning and flouncing off in the direction of the elevators, a bellboy in his wake, pushing a golden trolley laden with luggage.

Fuck you.

When I finally reach my room I’m exhausted. I can barely summon the energy to kick off my shoes as I flop onto the bed. It’s too soft. Hotel beds are always too fucking soft. I stare at the ceiling and watch the fan. How fast is it going? How many revolutions per minute? My eyes lose focus. The blur pirouettes to the whirring sound. The room melts, and from uncertainty emerges a dream. A lucid fitful dream. Of men and machines. Melding, morphing, metastasising. What if.

”Room service.” A voice calls.

I open my eyes. Where the fuck am I? I sit up and look at the man hovering next to a trolley by the open door.

”I, I sorry señor. The door, it was open. So I knock, and come in. ok?”

”The door was open?” I ask.

”Yes señor. Open, like this.” The man says, as he moves towards the door, opening it fully.

I get up from the bed, hand the man twenty dollars. He bows slightly, nods his head, thanks me and exits the room, leaving the door ajar.

I close the door, approach the trolley and uncover a large plate. The smell of burnt canola oil, charcoal, something sweet, something sharp and sour. Limp fries, the top of a pale and sparsely seeded sesame bun, hollow to the tap, sat juxtaposed, and crookedly aloof, atop two treacle coloured patties. Between them a barely melted square of white Jack. I lift the top, turning it to find blackened edges ringing a stain of ketchup, and two crinkle cut slivers of anaemic pickle plastering a gaping wound. I look down to see torn lettuce laying defeated, dead beneath the cauterised meat. I lift the patties as one congealed lump, and with an outstretched finger rummage between the limp sheets, finding myself cuticle deep in a bed of reconstituted dough. I eat it ravenously, inhaling it, pushing handfuls into both sides of my mouth. Forcing the barely chewed mass into my oesophagus, feeling my neck bulge as the melee continues. Until I’m done. Energy consumed.

I sleep without incident, shower and choose my outfit carefully. Breakfast will only make me sluggish, so I opt for water with a twist of lemon, the citric acid will help keep me sharp. I join the delegates in the main suite, where Maylor summons me to the stage.

“It’s my pleasure once again to welcome to the stage our esteemed guest, Gremio. Please show them your appreciation.” Maylor says, as he rises from his chair and gestures towards me.

I take a seat beside him and nod my head in acceptance, while ninety three million miles away I am gamma rays bursting from the centre of a star. It is not possible to explain the nature of things to such feeble minds. Humanity will end in 8 minutes.

Mate well done, solid writing style. When it gets descriptive I got some 80's cyberpunk vibes, like Gibson

It was supposed to be a simple task. Go to this tower, slay the rogue dragon, save the princess, and so make an allegiance between my home and the nation of Grevanis. They were a strangely withdrawn people, but we couldn't fault their might. It wasn't that the survival of my country depended on me, but it would heavily sway things in our favour in the future.

I rode hard, the lone Knight sent to free her. From what we had been told, the rogue would see large numbers approach. Few would dare fight one on an open field. It was best to battle in an enclosed space, somewhere it could not fly. So I went alone, to battle with the greatest of monsters.

Throughout my approach, I saw few signs of its existence. Maybe some broken trees here, a slaughtered animal there, but it was few and far between. I had a doubt in my mind, that maybe it wasn't there. Or maybe this was an elaborate trap. I couldn't fathom why, and wasn't really in a position to turn around. If the dragon was here, I had to fight it. If this was a trap, I would just have to break it.

Finally I caught sight of my goal. A tower carved from the top of a rocky spire, standing proud above the landscape. A single bridge showed the way, leading to an open cave in the spires side. It was the only way in.

I knew some would ride in with little thought. But I had suspicions. Riding in all loud and proud would draw attention. Surely the caves were made to suit the rogue, with traps and ambush locations. If I were to let it know I was here, it would have all the time in the world to catch me off-guard.

No, I would try and turn the tables on it. Sneaking was the name of the game. This wasn't a matter of honor, this was being sensible. As I had learned when I was a squire, honor is perfect in a peaceful scenario. Under times of danger, it had some places, but often should be ignored. This was one of those times.

I let my horse run free, trusting him. He would stay nearby for a few days, grazing but able to move. If I didn't call or collect him before then, he would head back home. Either way, it should keep him moderately safe.

I moved as quietly as possible along the bridge, ducking into the cave opening as soon as I could. I took one last look at the outside world, realising what I hadn't seen before. Beneath the bridge lay a sizeable skeleton, that of a dragon itself. This was old, but likely the cause of it being classed as a rogue. Dragon's rarely ever fought each other, if they did it was over land. But those fights ended in wounds. Killing one another was a whole different ball game.

I shuddered, diving into the caves open maw. That was the work of a beast, not a thinking being. I kept my eyes peeled, listening hard as I moved. I couldn't afford a single mistake. No matter how long it took, I had to move carefully.

My journey up was slow. I passed bodies, most skeletal, but a couple still decomposing. Some were surrounded by soot, others in multiple pieces. Most were in the lower sections, evidence of the killing ground it was. But some were close to the towers itself, reaching out for the goal they couldn't reach.

But I found the tower entrance. I opened it, slipping in whilst looking around. The tower was empty, save for a spiral staircase leading up its interior, streching uo high above me. I drew my sword, approaching the stairs. I had a long climb ahead of me.

"Who are you?"

An oddly sweet voice drew my attention, causing me to jump. I spun to its source, seeing a beautiful woman standing in a soft pink dress. Her jet black hair shone, deep blue eyes set above a small nose and full cheeks. A holden necklace set with a large emerald hung around her neck, seeming to glotter like the rwst of her. Lace frills finished her delicate appearance, as she smiled at me.

"A-apologies ma'am. I'm here to set you free, and kill the rogue dragon."

Her smile widened, as she casually walked to me.

"Oh wow! You must be very strong and brave."

I smiled in return, sheathing my sword to extend a hand.

"I try."

Her eyes sparkled like jewels, slender fingers gripping my hand.

"I could use that."

The words were wrong. But even as I thought it, my mind stilled. She giggled, leading me to the stairs. I went with her, in a haze of soft floral perfume. She chattered away, but I didn't listen. Or rather, I couldn't.

I blinked, and we were at the top. A great wooden door barred our way, with a thick wooden beam holding it tight. She simply lifted it with one hand, opening it into her abode. I glanced at opulent furniture, before my eyes landed on a pole in the centre.

Another woman slumped there, arms manacled above her head. Her face was obscured by similar black hair to the princess. Yet whilst the princess was of darker skin, this woman had red scales. A pair of wings hung limply behind, her, a tail drooping to lie on the floor.

"Awwww, she's still tired out. Don't worry Mr Knight, you made it here. You get to help her."

Her words had an echoing edge. My addled mind shook, as I gazed on the situation. This was wrong. I had to act. How else could I ever have honor again. As I fought, the bound woman stirred. She looked up, a snout brushing hair aside. I made out a silver necklace on her neck, with a red jewel, before glancing at her eyes. They had slit pupils, begging for help.

"I..."

The princess turned, tilting her head to the side in an adorable fashion.

"What? What is it?"

I pulled on my resolve, fighting to do something other than follow. For a second the fog cleared, but that was all I needed.

"No!"

I backhanded her, knocking the princess to the ground. As she fell the fog disappeared completely, letting me thing again. She clutched her cheek in shock, before her face contorted into anger.

"You dare! I was going to let you live for a bit!"

Her back bulged, as leathery wings forced their way out. Her fingers curled into claws, nails lengthening. As she changed the dragon-woman cried out, an utterance of pain. I drew my sword, as the princess gave a haunting mix of a scream and a roar.

"You will burn!"

A flicker came from her mouth. I didn't wait, darting in close. This was a fight I had to win fast. The glimmer of her necklace caught my eye. It matched the one on the dragon-lady. That was important.

She swiped at me, and I raised my sword to block. Yet as she connected I realised my mistake. She was strong. Too strong, if the beam was anything to go by. I found myself thrown back, rolling to dissipate some of that force.

"Die!!!"

She lunged, breathing a torrent of flame. I jumped to the side, bringing my sword down in two hands. It cut into a wing, making her scream again. I avoided a counter attack, watching her wild strikes. She was strong, but untrained. All I had to do was not get hit.

She took in a breath, her mouth flickering again. Knowing what was coming I darted towards her, sword slicing towards her throat. Her eyes widened, knocking it away. But it went to cover the necklace, not herself.

I nodded to myself. The necklace was the key. Thinking fast I swung at her face, letting her defend. Yet I let go, coming behind her. I grabbed the necklace itself, pulling hard. The gold strained, before snapping. She screamed again, this time in utter agony. Her body collapsed inwards, forced back to a human form. A weak form.

The dragon-lady hissed, some strength coming back to her. I looked at her, as she raised her eyes to meet mine.

"Thank you."

Came here to post this

I thought a child pointed out the emperor was naked?

Oooohhh! Doug is the child!!!

Ash-bringer: For the last time, humans. I am not a messiah!

Villagers: HE IS!!! HE IS THE MESSIAH!!!

This story can only end in waking up from an acid trip

This was an awesome read!

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

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Would imagine that the princess was kept here not by her jealous kin, but by the Church, or rather, what elves had for a church in this world

So basically it is anti gaslight and anti conformity resistance. Someone get Solomon Asch on the line.

I’m gonna throw out that it might be underestimating planes here.

Absolutely granted you can communicate a lot with pointing and gestures, but it kinda falls apart at advanced concepts like “there is not a screw right here but here is how you could make one “

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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Look it up, it's Exactly what you described

Taylor being vaporized then revealed to be fine fucking got me so bad

I was just about to ask if Gregnok the Assassin was related to Grognak the Barbarian.

this one must be purged

Cue that one comic about the aliens' "oppressive" work conditions turning out to be better than what humans impose on each other...