text: [Themes: fantasy, poetry, fantasy]
  
  Amidst a calm and lazy day,
  In earliest of spring,
  The lull is interrupted by
  A sudden clamoring.
  
  A knocking dins upon your door
  And calls you from your rest.
  Uneagerly, you open it,
  And find many a guest.
  
  A crowd of townsfolk gathers 'round,
  Their faces of dismay.
  This can't be good. Whatever could
  Bring them to you this day?
  
  "A dragon!" many of them cry.
  "A large and deadly beast
  Has made its lair not far, within
  The forest to the east!"
  
  "It must be slain!" the farmer shouts,
  "Or it'll torch our crops,
  Or make us all into its slaves,
  Or gobble up our stock!"
  
  "I hear they kidnap children,"
  Says the baker, babe in tow.
  "We cannot have this beast about.
  Yes, hunter, you must go!"
  
  The crowd grows hushed with bated breath
  For what you have to say.
  You pause to think, then heave a sigh
  And answer with:
  
  > say "Okay."
  You nod and say, "I'll do it then;
  I'll go and slay the thing.
  Rest easy, all, for I'll make sure
  Our doom it shall not bring."
  
  The crowd's relief is palpable;
  A many of them cheer
  And offer you their heartfelt thanks,
  Enthusiasm clear.
  
  You step inside to find your sword
  And pull it from its pell,
  Then march to-ward the forest path
  Where you are bid farewell.
  
  The butcher pats you on the back,
  Saying, "take care!" in shout.
  "This ain't no easy pickin's, but
  I know that you've the clout!
  
  "We're countin' on you, kid, y'hear!
  Go on and make us proud!"
  Then nods to you in confidence
  And reenters the crowd.
  
  You know by now you've surely passed
  The point of turning back.
  You head into the forest, then,
  A dragon now to track.
  
  The forest's shade grows thicker as
  You leave the town behind
  And travel ever deeper with
  The scaly beast in mind.
  
  It takes an hour—maybe two—
  Of fruitless searching, 'til
  Your senses pick up something off;
  A sign of omen ill.
  
  A rustling, or a metal sound,
  As far as you can tell.
  More troubling still, a pungent stench,
  But what of does it smell?
  
  > Blood
  The air is ripe with tangs of blood,
  Its patent, potent bite.
  And as you pass the undergrowth,
  You spy a gruesome sight.
  
  A corpse, unrecognizable,
  A mess of fur and flesh,
  Arrays the earth in pieces torn,
  Soaked through with cruor fresh.
  
  The thing was riven just like that?
  So easily 'twas maimed?
  There's no denying such a beast
  Could rend a man the same.
  
  Amidst the shambles, there it lies
  Not fifteen feet away.
  A dragon, dwarfing you in size;
  The culprit, and your prey.
  
  The crimson beast sits oddly still,
  Its body wrapped in chains,
  Its nostrils smoking, posture lax,
  Its head held down in shame.
  
  Your presence snaps it from this trance,
  Perhaps your movement heard.
  It cranes its neck to face you, yet
  It still says not a word.
  
  It watches all the while you step
  As closely as you dare,
  And holds you tightly in its gaze,
  A never-blinking stare.
  
  > say "What has happened here?"
  The beast's a little different from
  The notion that you had.
  You had assumed it fearsome, but
  Instead it seems more... sad?
  
  Seeing no harm in asking, then,
  These are the words you speak:
  "What's happened, dragon, to you here
  To bid you act so bleak?"
  
  The dragon turns its head and sighs.
  "I'm such a foolish drake.
  Embarrassing to say it, but
  I've made a grave mistake.
  
  "While hunting for my little ones,
  A gleam had caught my eye.
  The ruins of a cart, wherein
  A tiny jewel lie.
  
  "And so I thought to make it mine
  And grabbed the shining scrap.
  I'd figured it a pretty gem,
  But no. It was a trap.
  
  "Chains suddenly surrounded me
  And drug me to the ground.
  Flightless, I couldn't do a thing
  Except hope to be found.
  
  "My hatchlings must be worried sick
  About where I could be.
  I beg you, human, break these chains;
  I need to be set free!"
  
  > say "Break them how?"
  "How would I do that, though," you say,
  "If you can't make them shear?
  Their strength's enough to keep you bound;
  I can't be much help here."
  
  "Dear human, that is where you're wrong."
  The dragon shakes its head.
  "The chains are not the problem, but
  The magic there instead.
  
  "Since I'm the one ensnared, I fear
  I can do them no harm.
  But you are not affected by this
  Rather irksome charm.
  
  "I see the sword you've got there, so
  Mind giving it a try?"
  The dragon beckons you to near,
  Pure credence in its eye.
  
  > free the dragon
  The dragon seems sincere enough.
  You shuffle to its side
  And draw your sword and swing it toward
  The spellbound chains in stride.
  
  The link you strike lets off a spark
  And with a crack, splits twain.
  And choosing a few other ones,
  You do to them the same.
  
  The chains' integrity collapsed,
  They now begin to slack,
  And with metallic clamoring,
  They slide off from its back.
  
  The dragon heaves a heavy groan,
  Free from the magic's clings,
  And stands itself upright and tall,
  And stretches out its wings.
  
  > say "Farewell."
  It's clear the beast's no vile fiend,
  As hearsay might have sung,
  But a being much more benign,
  That dotes upon its young.
  
  Given it isn't much a threat,
  As far as you can tell,
  You give the beast a little nod
  And say to it, "farewell."
  
  The dragon bows its head and says,
  "You have my gratitude.
  I hope you will excuse me now;
  My hatchlings need their food.
  
  "I truly hope that we may meet
  Once more, my human friend.
  I wish you safest travels back,
  And thank you once again!"
  
  The dragon flaps its wings and flies,
  Returning to its home.
  You wave it on, and once it's gone,
  You find yourself alone.
  
  You trek back home, knowing you will
  Arrive with empty hands.
  At this point you can only hope
  The village understands.