The Tales of the Friar and the Dragon 1 to 4

A long time ago, there was a friar who lived in an abbey. He was a young, scrawny man with a tender heart and just couldn't say no to those in need. One day, he was sent to help the daughter of a butcher who was sick and in need of healing. The butcher was so thankful for his visit, he gave him several large cuts of beef.

Once he was done he gathered his things and headed home. On his way back, he headed through woods. As he did, he was surprised to find a large red dragon in the way of his path. It loomed above him and looked down upon him with its big yellow eyes and toothy snarl. It had huge wings, sharp quills running down its back, and it looked very hungry.

It came closer, and as it did it began to growl. The Friar backed away as it did this, shaking. He was terrified, but managed to think quickly. He dropped the load of fresh meat he was carrying in front of it and escaped quietly while the great reptile ate.

While the Friar was relieved after this encounter, the Dragon was confused. No human had ever simply given him something before. Usually, they either tried to fight him or run away. This piqued his interest and the next day he sought out the Friar.

He found him as the Friar headed into town again. This scared the Friar at first, but as several minutes passed and the Dragon did not try to attack him, he continued on his way. The Dragon followed him until he reached the edge of the forest. When the Friar returned, the Dragon was back and followed him home until again he reached the other edge.

This continued to happen every few days. At first the Friar was nervous but as time went on and he began to speak to the Dragon, he began to enjoy the flying creature's company more and more. The formerly long, silent walks became much more pleasant.

The two shared laughter and stories. Sometimes the Friar would bring the Dragon something from his visits into the village. The Dragon began to consider the young man his close friend and decided to show him something he had shown no one else before: his hoard.

One day, the Dragon claimed he had something special to show him and took off with him. The Friar was a bit uneasy about being so high up but got used to it quickly. They flew up and up until they reached the chilly peak of a mountain top. The Dragon brought the friar into a dark cave and illuminated it with fire. The Friar's eyes widened at what he saw before him.

There were piles upon piles of gold everywhere. Gold coins, gold plates, gold jewelry, everything made of gold! The Friar gazed in awe of it all, while the Dragon ran off to bring some of his favorite treasures to show him.

Every so often the Dragon would bring the friar up to have him marvel at more of the pieces he had collected. The more the Friar visited, the more he remember the poverty facing the people in the village he lived close to. The more he remembered them, the more he was tempted to steal from the Dragon's hoard.

One day, he finally did. He guiltily grabbed a handful or two of gold coins and shoved them into his bag. It wasn't much, and it was for the good of others, wasn't it? The Dragon wouldn't notice them, would he? Surely he wouldn't. Despite what the Friar had assured himself of, the Dragon did notice.

The next day the Dragon was counting his gold. As he got to the last coin, he was surprised to find that it was less than usual. He counted again, but the number did not change. The Dragon panicked, wondering who had stolen from him. Then he realized the only person it could have been.

The Dragon was furious! How could the Friar betray his trust like this? How long would this have gone on for if he had not figured out what was happening so soon? When the Dragon found the Friar, he roared at him in anger and tackled him to the ground, demanding for his gold back.

The terrified Friar apologized over and over again, saying how he had already given it away to a poor family. He continue to say how sorry he was and pleaded with the Dragon to let him go. The Dragon did not forgive him though. He was angry and hurt, and he wanted to make the Friar hurt too.

He wanted to hurt him....but he couldn't. He had attacked other people before but he couldn't bring himself to cause the Friar harm. Instead he settled for finding the family and getting the stolen gold back.

He found them out at the edge of town near the miller's home. He saw them from his hiding spot outside.  It appeared though that he was too late as they had already exchanged some of it for flour. He growled angrily at them, but then he noticed something.

The family looked sickly pale and scrawny. Their hair looked matted and their skin was covered in dirt. He had never seen a human in such a state before. Despite their sorry state, they looked overjoyed about something. They practically radiated with happiness as they carried home their bags of flour.

The Dragon himself couldn't help but be touched by their joy. His anger subsided and he silently chastised himself for wanting to take back his gold from them. He left them in peace as he flew back to his lair.

The next day the Friar headed on his path to the village, still feeling terrible for what he had done. Not only had he betrayed his friend, but he had essentially sent an angry dragon upon that poor mother and her children. As he traveled the well worn path, the last thing he expected to see was his scaly friend.

But lo and behold, he was waiting for him just around the bend with a warm grin. Even more surprising, clutched in his hands was a large sack of gold coins. The Dragon handed it to him and said, "I'm sorry." The Friar was confused. The Dragon explain what had happened the day before and apologized again for acting the way he did. He said after he saw what joy his treasure had brought the family, he decided that maybe giving up a little bit more wouldn't be so bad.

The Friar gave him a smile and pulled him into a hug. He then slung the bag onto his back and continued on his way, the Dragon tailing behind him.

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Many months passed since then and many things began to change. Summer turned to fall, the young lambs of the local shepard had grown up, and the tree began to bear their fruit. One thing that didn't change was the Friar and the Dragon's daily walks.

The two were still thick as thieves. Somethings had changed for the better because of them, though. Mostly it was the state of the town. Every so often, the Dragon would give a small portion of his hoard to the Friar to give away, then have the Friar tell him about it later.

Because of these little donations, several people who would have gone hungry had plenty to eat and several buildings were given repairs, including the local church. The Friar felt bad about taking the undue credit though, but the Dragon had no issue with it. It made him feel good to know he was bringing joy to others, even if he wasn't being praised for it.

Meanwhile a very different kind of change was happening. An amature prospector was searching the mountains for a vein of silver.

He had heard of someone finding a great deal of it in the mountain side while staying in an inn. Excited at the thought of riches beyond his wildest dreams, he set out to find this precious metal.

He did not know how to go about looking for the silver ore, so every so often he would pull out his pickaxe and shovel and dig down to his waist. One day he reached the peak of the mountain the Dragon lived on.

He nearly slipped on the loose, rocky slope, but managed to keep his balance.  He found a large, old rock and pulled out his pickaxe. With a heavy swing, he slammed it into the rock causing a crack to form in it. He swung at it again and again, until with a large, echoing crack, the rock split in two.

Before the fool could do anything more, half of the rock started slipping and began to tumble down the the mountain. As it did, more rocks came loose as well as snow.

The Dragon was relaxing outside his lair when this happened. He heard the rumble of stones and looked up in surprise to see the tumbling rocks about to crush him. He quickly flew out of the way but alas, his cave could not be saved.

Rocks filled it in and completely covered the entrence. The Dragon could only stare in shock at what had happened. He attempted to dig out his home but the rocks were too heavy for even him to move. His hoard and his home were gone.

After many hours of mourning the loss of his home, the Dragon contemplated what he should do next. If did not have a place to stay come winter, he would surely freeze. Any other caverns were most likely already occupied, and it was too late to try and dig himself out a new one that would be deep enough to serve its purpose. Finally, he had an idea.

The Dragon found the Friar on his walk into the village as usual. Not a second after greeting him, the Friar noticed something was wrong and asked the Dragon what was the matter.

After explaining what had happened, the Dragon asked for help. He wanted to know if the Friar knew of anywhere he could stay. The Friar thought for a second before suggesting that there might be a place for him to stay in the abbey.

The Dragon was hesitant though. He had a feeling the other friars living there wouldn't be quite as welcoming. His suspicions were proved correct for as soon as the saw him, they ran as fast as the could inside.

The Friar had to convinced them to come out. He told them about all the kind things the Dragon had done, even admitting the Dragon was the one had been donating all the money. After a long while of banging on the front door and calling for them, they finally came back out. The Friar repeated what the Dragon had told him had happened to his home and asked them if there was any place he could stay.

The others and the Prior himself were still uneasy about letting the Dragon stay with them. He could light their home on fire, eat all their food, or start stealing some from the local farmers!

The Friar assured them he would never do any of those things, but they still refuse to let him stay....that is unless he met some criteria. "Unless he can prove himself to be able to carry his own weight and provide something to our community by the end of the day," the Prior said, "he must find somewhere else to live."

This proved more difficult than it sounded. The Dragon had trouble finding a talent that could help the brotherhood. Infact, some of his greatest strengths proved to be weaknesses. His powerful hands were not gentle enough to harvest fruits. They had no harnesses large enough for him to help pull heavy cart loads and the quills running down his back poked holes in bags of thin material if they tried to tie them directly to him. As for letting him clean the library....they didn't want to risk the chance of the dust causing him to sneeze.

It seemed almost hopeless. As the day drew to a close, the Dragon looked on in worry. The Friar came to comfort him, asking him what was the matter. "I'm useless," he responded, "They want nothing to do with me and I will never be able to find something to do that will allow me to stay."

The Friar gave him a gentle smile. "You're not useless," he said, "You're strong, smart, and many other things. Sure you may not be able to do everything they want you to, but that doesn't make you any less in worth. We'll figure out something. You'll see."

Alas, the day ended without either of them figuring out a solution. After a bit of pleading on the Friar's part, the Dragon was allowed to stay for the night in the basement.

The next morning the Dragon was preparing to leave and the Friar had decided to go with him to help him find a new home. By the time they were ready to go, many of the other brothers had already started on their chores.

Suddenly, Brother John returned still carrying a bag of grain on his back he had departed with earlier that morning and an annoyed look on his face. When the Prior asked why he returned so early and why the grain was not ground into flour, he responded by griping about how the miller had made his prices much higher than before. Too much for them to be able to afford.

The Prior and the others became worried. The miller was the only one in the village who could grind the grain for them. If they could not get flour, they could not get the bread they needed to survive!

The Friar then had an idea. He carried the large bag of grain to the Dragon along with a basket and asked him to press and roll the grain under his fingers and claws. When he attempted to do so, he ended up crushing the grain into a powder.

The others saw this and were more than relieved that their problem was solved. The Prior as well saw this and his usually serious expression was replaced by a large grin. The Dragon was confused as to why they were so happy. Had he not failed at the task he was supposed to do?

The Prior then stepped in front of the Dragon and told him he did not have to leave, so long as he continued to press the grain for them. The Dragon was speechless for a few moments before smiling and thanking the Prior ecstatically.

Every few days when the abbey received more grain or other foods in need of being crushed for preparation, the Dragon had the honor of doing such deeds, for no one could do them quite so thoroughly as he.

After he had finished his work, he would eat his fill and curl up to sleep in his new home, usually with his friar friend reclining near by.

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While he lived at the abbey, the Dragon loved to hear stories from the Friar. He still wasn't allowed into the library, but the Friar would often take out books to read and sometimes read them aloud to the dragon.

The Friar would most commonly read stories from two books he called "Gospel" and "Scripture". The Dragon didn't always like the stories from those books, but he listened anyways as to not hurt the Friar's feelings. Likewise, if the Friar noticed his friend wasn't enjoying a story, he'd switch to another one or even a different book altogether.

What the Dragon almost always loved to hear were the stories of epic heros and fairy tales. He loved to hear the folk tales that had been passed down for ages and finally been written down by the friars.

One thing that bothered him was the lack of stories with dragons in them. When he went to talk to the Friar about this, the Friar sheepishly admitted he hadn't been reading those stories to him on purpose. When the Dragon asked why, he responded by saying that almost all of the stories with them in them portrayed them as monsters and usually ended with them being slain.

This upset the Dragon, though he tried not to show it and walked off. Still, the Friar felt bad for his friend and wanted to make him feel better. He then got an idea. After he had gotten done with all his chores, he began working. He stayed up all night working and when he was finished the next day, he went to go find the Dragon.

"Come see!" the Friar said calling his friend, "I have a story for you!" The Dragon sat down and the Friar settled next to him. "It's called 'The Glass Making Dragon'" he said, "Once upon a time, there was a lovely blue dragon. She lived by a cove and used the sand to create beautiful glass sculptures of all shapes and sizes."

"One day she heard of a contest being arranged by a king of a near by kingdom. The king wanted new stain glass windows, and would give a large sum of gold to the one who could provide him with the most beautiful windows."

"The Dragon became excited and flew to the kingdom immediately to measure the windows and prepare. After she had done this she headed back to her home to work. She poured her heart into her work and after several days, she had created five stunning windows, ready to be installed."

"On the day of the contest, she was ready to take her windows to the city, but there was a problem. The windows were too heavy for her to carry. As she contemplated what to do, a traveling jester was passing by with a horse and a large wagon."

"She called to him asking if he would help her bring them to the citadel. When he asked about a reward she said that if she won, she would share some of the gold that would be awarded to her. The jester agreed and loaded up his wagon with the windows."

The Dragon walked behind the jester and his cart as they traveled, and as they did he began to think. Then a thought came to him. 'What if I take the windows and get all the gold for myself?' he thought, and so he made a plan."

"When they neared the castle gates, the jester suddenly spurred the horse on to go faster and ran ahead of the confuse reptile. As the dragon chased after him, the Jester began to shout at the guards."
"'Help!' he cried, 'this foul beast plans to make me its dinner!' Before the dragon could say anything the guards were attacking her, and forced her back into the forest."

"The jester won the competition and received his gold. However, when they went to install the windows one of them broke, so the king asked the jester to make another."

"The jester panicked, and attempted to escape. The castle guards caught him and the king quickly realized he was not the creator of the windows. The king had him jailed and questioned to find out who the real creator was."

"When the dragon woke up the next morning, she found the king and his entorage outside her cove. The king apologized to her and gave her the reward for winning. He then asked her if she would be willing to make a new window to replace the one that had broken. The dragon gladly agreed and set to work. The End," the Friar said finishing.

The Dragon smiled and thanked the Friar, praising him for his work and saying how greatful he was. When he looked down, he found him fast asleep. The Dragon chuckled and picked him up, carrying the man to his bed.

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It was a chilly winter evening. The hills were lined with snow. The only sound that filled the air was the billowing of the wind. Not a creature was stirring...that is, except for the Dragon.

He paced along the hallway in worry. The Friar, like many this time of year, had fallen sick. His skin was as white as a sheet aside from his nose, which was as red as a cherry. He shivered under thick blankets and his coughing could be heard all throughout the abbey. Anytime he wasn't resting, he was almost constantly coughing.

The worst part was that the poor man wasn't getting any better. They had tried everything.
They had tried soups and fruit to heal him. They gave him honey for his throat. They tried to clear his nose with steam and give him warm water to drink. They even tried burning incense, but nothing worked!

As he paced, the Dragon tried to think of a way to help his friend. He thought and thought, and then he remembered something.

When he was just a hatchling and riddled with sickness, his mother mashed up special herbs and nuts and boiled them into a stew that always made him feel better.  She could cure any ailment with that alone.

He remembered asking her about it one day and she said how they were very rare and only grew in one cave. The cave was located in the valley of a ring of mountains. It had been home to many a monster, and it was not unlikely that there would be one there now.

The Dragon had to do it. If there was any chance this would work, he had to take it. And with that, the Dragon flew off into the night.

The dragon soared high above the earth searching for the cave. He flew over rivers, villages and valleys. After a while, he finally found it. He climbed down the tunnel into the darkness. He continued walking until he came upon a large chasm, illuminated by light filtering in from a crack in the ceiling.

In the weak light, he could see vines crawling up the rocks to the ceiling of the cave. He flew up and quickly recognized the plants his mother had once used quickly. As he began to pluck the leaves and nuts he needed, he knocked a rock off its perch and it clattered to the floor of the cave.

For a few seconds, everything was quite. Then a mighty roar rang out. He saw a great troll enter from one of the tunnels. It was a huge grey creature only clothed in a loincloth. Tiny horns sat atop its pudgy head and some teeth stuck out of its mouth.

It looked up and saw him. "BUGGY?! BUGGY!" it said angrily. It flailed its arms as it tried to swat him with its club. He tried to dodge the large stone club, but eventually it caught him off guard in one of its swings, sending him to the ground.

He got up as the troll walked over to him, and saw the creature about to bring its giant foot down upon. His eyes widened as it loomed above him and the Dragon did the one thing he could in this situation: he breathed fire on the looming foot.

The troll cried out and hopped around, gripping its foot. The Dragon took to the air again, but not before the troll tried to grab at him with his meaty hand. "BAD BUGGY!" it said. The troll grabbed his tail but again shouted when the Dragon's sharp quills pierced his skin.

He let go, but the Dragon sent a few more puffs of flame his way for good measure. The Dragon then escaped the tunnels and began to fly back with his ingredients.

When he returned to the abbey, it was nearly sunrise. The Dragon set to work making his stew. After an hour or so, he headed upstairs to the Friar's room and helped him to drink the stew.

He watched over the Friar all day and night, and at first it seemed like it wasn't working. Then, slowly, the Friar began to cough less an less. His shivering nearly stopped and some color returned to his face.

The next day, the friar was able to get out of bed. The others were shocked at how quickly he had recovered, even asking him if he was sure he was well again. He told them he was fine, and after a little while of doing chores, they believed him.

He then went to find the Dragon, who was dozing. The Friar woke him up and when he asked what was wrong, the Friar chuckled. "Nothing's wrong," he said, "In fact, I wanted to thank you. I don't know what was in that stew of yours but it certainly worked."

"It was nothing," the Dragon said. Then his throat began to tickle and he felt a strange sensation in his nose. "Ah..ah...ah" the Dragon said, "CHOOO!" After sneezing he let out a loud cough.

"Oh dear..." the Friar said, "I think you might need some rest. How about I fetch you a blanket and a nice bowl of soup?"

"That sounds nice. Thank you," the Dragon said. The Friar patted his head before heading down stairs to do just that.