Cast:

 

Joachim Maclef: aka: Mac. A Dwarf who somehow is in collaboration with a Dragon.

Unseen voice/Hooded Figure: Someone who is educating ‘Mac’

The Narrator: Filling us in on the foolishness that has happened, is happening, and will continue to happen unless Mac keeps his mouth under control

$%£^%^£(&£^&£$”/Sheila: A very big, fire breathing Dragon

 

 

Mac: “Oi! Mate! That's my dragon! Get ur bloody own!”

 

Narrator: An unusual remark to be heard, bellowed across a marketplace. Especially at the volume announced and from the subject announcing it. Maclef, or, Mac, to absolutely nobody, was not one for subtlety though, and why would he be? At a whopping 3'8", he was tall for a dwarf, and with a dragon to back him up to boot, well, people still laughed... Just before catching fire... And all due to a bet…

 

‘Welcome to Modruun’. Well, that’s what the sign used to say, before Mac and his ‘pet’ arrived. Now it just reads: Welcome to Mod…. with a big burnt patch where the ‘ruun’ bit used to be. Mac is not the most popular fella in Mod…. but given his rapidly growing reputation, that doesn’t appear to bother so many people:

 

Need a fella disappeared? Mac’l sort it

Elf problem? Mac’l sort it

Influx of unwanted goblin hoards? Mac’l sort it

Something moving that shouldn’t be? Mac’l sort it

 

In fact, most ‘personnel problems’ (i.e. Ones involving a meat based solution), Mac could and would solve. And for a reasonable fee too. Not one to be greedy (an unusual concept for a dwarf) Mac was becoming well liked for his ‘fair fees’ and ‘low overheads’. Obviously having a gigantic dragon doing pretty much all the jobs he was asked to fulfil, there was never much in the way of evidence to prove the job was or wasn’t done either way. Although a baleful look through the window of whatever slapdash office Mac was working from at the time, from a somewhat fiery, bloodshot eye the size of the client, tended to convince them the job was done to at least some level of satisfaction.

 

So now we come to the outburst in the town square. A venue that has multiple titles, including said town square, but also has been known as the marketplace, justice square, the meeting area, and only very recently, ‘the place where there are loads of meat sticks on legs that I want to eat but only occasionally if Master says so’. This obviously not a title that that the residents are so familiar with, but then they don’t speak fluent draconian do they?

 

The recipient of the somewhat surly remark is a cloaked individual of medium height, who clearly either has no fear of dragons or has a desire for an exceptionally short lifespan from heron in. What is concerning Mac more is that ‘his’ dragon seems to be paying more attention to this cloaked figure than it is to himself.

 

Mac: “This had better not be that bloody wizard”

 

Narrator: The image of a dwarf extracting himself from several layers of luxury hides and pelts that his last client had paid in is hilarious at best. The fact that the dragon had recognised one of the hides as a relative and promptly eaten the client was equally hilarious and also of no concern to Mac. The job had been completed and the fee fairly paid in his opinion. What happens after the job…? Well that’s all in the small print…

 

The ‘Bloody Wizard’ in question that had Mac almost reaching a level of concern, would be the one he had ‘won’ said dragon off in a dubious gambling match wherein all competitors end up so drunk that it is settled as to who wins what by who wakes up first the following day. Mac woke up first, and eventually discovered his location was in the mouth of said dragon, about to be a morning snack. Due to an exceptional vocal range (insert loud screaming) and an equally exceptional desire to continue living (fuck of, fuck off, fuck off please!), he was now the proud owner…

 

Unseen voice: It should be noted that no-one ‘owns’ a dragon by the way. The dragon merely tolerates your existence until something more worthy crosses their path. And as the only thing in dragon lore that is fully worthy of their attention is another dragon… Well, you get the idea. We’re just lunch really…

 

Narrator: Thank you. The proud, non-owner, of a fairly fiery fella, who after repeated attempts to understand how to say each other’s name settled on Mac calling the dragon: ‘…erm, Dragon’, and the Dragon calling Mac, ‘Midday Snack’. Anyhew, back to the hooded guy.

 

Mac bludgeons his way across the square to where the chap in the (as Mac notices) rather fancy looking robes was feeling up ‘his’ dragon.

 

Mac: I’ve seen him bite off arms for less intrusive gestures

 

Narrator interjects: Mac, desperately trying for the ‘Big I Am’ approach… rolls eyes…

 

Hooded Figure: Really? Because I’ve seen HER eat entire people on a whim for being so ignorant.

 

Mac: “Erm, wait, what? HE is a SHE?”

 

Hooded Figure: “No. SHE has always been a SHE.”

 

Mac: “Prove it!”

 

Hooded Figure: “Are you sure that’s a wise thing to ask?”

 

Mac: “Erm…no?”

 

Hooded Figure: “And that would be the correct answer. What have you been calling her?”

 

Mac: “Erm…dragon”

 

Hooded Figure: “Do you start with every sentence with erm?”

 

Mac: “No. That’s his, sorry her name, erm…dragon”

 

Hooded Figure: “What the hell is wrong with you? Her name is $%£^%^£(&£^&£$”

 

Mac: “Ouch! What the hell was that?”

 

Hooded Figure: “What?”

 

Mac: “You just shouted utter garbage at me!”

 

Hooded Figure: “No I didn’t!”

 

Mac: “Yes you did!”

 

Hooded Figure: “No.  I called her $%£^%^£(&£^&£$”

 

Mac: “You just did it again!”

 

Hooded Figure: “You don’t actually speak, or understand dragon, do you?”

 

Mac: “No. No I don’t. Wait! What the hell has she been calling me all this time?”

 

“Whispered description in Mac’s ear”

 

Mac: “SHE CALED ME WHAT??? I think I need to sit down a moment…”

 

Hooded Figure: “Would it help if I said that’s a term of affection?”

 

Mac: “Please leave me alone for a moment…”

 

 

20 minutes later, a somewhat subdued Mac returns…

 

Mac: “Ok. So can I clarify a few details?”

 

Hooded Figure: “Go on…”

 

A slightly shaky Mac proceeded:

 

Mac: So, $%£^%^£(&£^&£$” is the name of this gigantic creature, obediently following me around?

 

Hooded Figure: Correct

 

Mac: And ‘She’ has been referring to me as a tasty snack all this time?

 

Hooded Figure: Correct

 

Mac: I can’t pronounce what you keep shouting at me as her name. It actually kinda hurts. Can I just call her Sheila?

 

Hooded Figure: If you want to die a horrible, fiery death? Sure…

 

Mac: Oh come on! What the hell can I call her? Hold on. Do I have any say over her at all?

 

Hooded Figure: Well actually, yes. Irritatingly, because of how you are with her, and your recent activities, you and her have a kind of working bond. Turns out, she quite enjoys working the jobs you are doing. I guess that’s due to the amount of clients she gets to eat…

 

Mac: Hold on! That’s nothing to do with me… Oh crap! Maybe…

 

 

Narrator: Let’s review. Mac the Dwarf has at his whim, a giant dragon. He has just discovered that it is a female dragon. He did not know this and also did not know that she thinks he might be lunch at some point. Her real name is also quite painful to pronounce or indeed hear… Apparently calling her ‘Sheila’ is not a recommended option, but then, Mac tends not to listen to recommendations…

 

Mac: Right then Sheila. Are we agreed? You don’t eat me, refer to me as a snack, set fire to my clothing or friends? And in return, I will continue to supply us, and by us, I mean you, clients that may or may not be edible in return for a continued source of financial gain for me and sustenance for your good self?

 

Sheila: Loud agreeable roar…

 

Mac: Excellent! So about this ‘midday snack’ thing? You didn’t really wanna eat me right?...

​

To be continued...