The Dragonslayer

The tale of the ageing dragonslayer Vronan and his trials in the world of Malar.

"Calm, boy. We're here. Oi! Lad, get Taurus here a nice stall and some oats, if you could put him next to a fine mare, he'd be even happier." He flipped a coin over to the stable-boy, patting the horse quickly before wandering towards the tavern to find drink, and that nice young maid. He shoved the door open and stepped inside the dimly lit tavern, his heavy boots producing a heavy thud whenever he took a step. "Mug of ale, strong, by the fire." He said to the barkeep, collapsing in a large chair near the fire. Vronan removed his helmet and ran a hand through his short, curly hair. He really needed it cut soon, or it would start annoying him during hunts. To his pleasant surprise, the girl who brought him his drink was the lovely Marri; how he enjoyed watching that girl. She placed the large mug on the table and smiled at him, glancing shortly at the huge sword leaning against the fireplace.


1. Morning. Boring Morning. (Novel contains harsh language, violence and nudity. Be aware)


Morning. Morning again. Day after day, week after week, year after year. Morning always came, bringing those infernal rays of light with it. After 29 years of working for other men's gold, Vronan was sick and tired of morning. The night brought ale and women with it, two things Vronan enjoyed. Morning only brought hangovers and wenches who wanted payment. Morning. why did the gods come up with it. He dared to open one eye, and was met with the sight of a young barmaid. She had been a feisty one. Daring to open his other eye, he reached out a hand and squeezed her exposed breast. Soft and pleasant, just as he liked them. Large, but not too large. She made a funny sound and opened her eyes to look at him, smiling faintly. He moved his other hand to her cheek, gently stroking it with his callused thumb. The girl chuckled and pressed herself against him, letting him get the full feel of her her. 

Then she was on the floor. He had no use for girls falling for him, a wife was not the first thing in mind. And settle down? Never. He enjoyed his life, well, some of it at least. And young girls like this one was one thing to be enjoyed. She was yelling at him, something about children. He couldn't care less, he probably had a dozen or so bastard children, he didn't care about one. Setting a small purse filled with coin on the table, he left to get breakfast. It should be enough to at least take care of the bastard child, if it came. Which it most likely would. Was that bacon he could smell? With the girl out of his mind, replaced by the delicious smell of roasting bacon, he sat in one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs.  "Throw me whatever you got, big plate. The maid drained me, literally." He flashed a grin at the barkeep, showing a set of ugly yellow teeth. Why did girls fall for him? He had no clue. He wasn't pretty nor young, but he did have something that the young bucks didn't, experience. Bacon. The smell he was so familiar with filled his nose. He noticed a fork being placed next to it, but didn't care for those things. What did they think he was? Some highborn lord that hadn't gotten his dick wet yet? He was a Dragonslayer, one of the last true ones left. These young boys with money and shiny armour sickened him. Where did the real Dragonslayers go? The ones he had fought with all those years ago. He thought as he ate, swallowing the bacon whole instead of chewing it, like most others would have done. He needed sustenance and then he'd be gone. This village sickened him. To be honest, anything but the wilderness sickened him. Finishing his bacon, he left a few coins on the table as he left, not caring to talk to this lot more than necessary. Vronan glanced at the wall next to the fireplace, where he had left his sword for the night. It had moved just a bit to the left. "Heh. So the boys did try to move it..." He chuckled and reached out for the blade, hefting it over his shoulder with ease. The metal clanked against the specially made rest on his shoulder. One of the boys of the tavern stared at him with wide eyes. Vronan was satisfied. He'd seen this reaction with most kids, strength like he possessed was unusual. 

 "Dragon's balls! It's freezing out here!" Vronan said, wrapping his thick cloak tighter around himself. It didn't help much, as his armour was already chilled. "Damn weather. Always did hate the North." The Dragonslayer grumbled and started moving towards the stable. Inside, the gargantuan horse, Taurus, stood, waiting for his master to arrive. He had already kicked one stable hand half to death, and he was very satisfied with himself. The poor victim was being taken care of in another room, as no one dared get near the horse at the moment. Vronan shoved open the door with his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the emptiness of the stable. Even the other horses had drawn back as far as they could, fear radiating from them. "Good lad, Taurus. Show these runts what a real horse is like." He grinned widely as he patted the horse. Vronan grabbed the reigns and used them to swing himself into the saddle, finally feeling at ease. He was born to ride, and to fight. His father had tried to tell him differently, all those years back, but Vronan had proved him wrong. When his face was a bloody pulp, his father had realized the mistake of his words. He didn't have long to realize before Vronan, his oldest son, brought a sword through his skull.   "Move you oaf, can't hang around here already. What? Yes, that mare is a beauty but for the love of the Divine, start thinking with your brain!" Vronan laughed and winked at the terrified horse in the corner of the stall. Taurus glanced up at him and snorted. "What? Oh shut up. You know I like someone to keep my bed warm. Now get a move on!" He chuckled and patted the horse's neck as Taurus moved, quickly falling into the regular pace. The villagers outside weren't quite prepared for the arrival of the huge horse, and most had to jump aside as he thundered through the village, leaving only dust behind him.

They were heading for one of the larger towns, Vronan had her rumours of a Firebred outside of its nest, something that simply didn't happen. The dragon pestering this village had been a Waterborn, a harmless creature that was too curious for its own good. The next would be interesting, it had been almost a year since his last battle with one of the flaming beasts.

 ~I hope you enjoyed the read! This is the first chapter of many! This is my first publishing here, and constructive criticism would be really nice! FireFlower~

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