Elsmeropolus

A long time ago, deep in a deep forest, lay the fiercest of dragons in all the vast mainland Rheinmein region, the sleeping dragon, Elsmeropolus. Elsmeropolus would sleep forever save for the one day a year whence he would wander through the township, Kliensbridge, in search of his only annual meal, the one random waiting citizen of Kliensbridge. Of course, no one knew which citizen that would be, only that there would be, as there always was and always will be, sure as winter follows fall and spring, winter. The people of Kliensbridge were a content and peaceful lot, but in the depths of all their thoughts was always the image of Elsmeropolus and his once-a-year scourge through their little town. Generation after generation the people adapted to expect their fate. There was one, however, much against the permissiveness of his fellow citizens, one William Benington. He dreaded the day of the arrival of Elsmeropolus and the intense fear and pain the people felt though showed and spoke none. As though even the very thought wouldst bring upon his wrath. Though not so the case be that of William Benington. He spoke often of Elsmeropolus and the horrendous yearly event, and always, to his dismay, received naught a nod from his fellow townspeople. Rather he was ignored and, needless to say, quite frustrated. And now as autumn approached one eve, and as William Benington knew it would be soon for Elsmeropolus to arrive, William Benington could stand it no longer. He found an old honed Dobler's box, thence stood there upon it and gathered a crowd of sorts. "There is no need for us to live in fear of Elsmeropolus," he expounded. "There is but one of him and but hundreds of us. I say, together we can but defeat Elsmeropolus and live but free of fear. But, let us go now, whilst he sleepeth, and but slay the beast." The reaction of the people appalled William Benington as there was none. No reaction apart from just some whispering of the too many "buts" in his speech. It was as if there was no Elsmeropolus and William Benington was crazed. And even so, William Benington was now beginning to wonder if he was the only sane one or not. Wertly, needless to say, his speech seemeth needless to say. "Are there any volunteers," he asked. Silence resounded. "I beseech you, my fellow Kliensbridgians and Rheinmen. Again, I asketh, are there but any volunteers amongst you," All silence erupted once more. "Master Wenswoth, this year your beautiful young daughter might fall prey to the ravages of Elsmeropolus. And Clara Dearth. your sickly, spindly, spinster sister may satisfy his spleen. Fat chanceth? I know not. Upminster Kramberry you yourself can fall victim, and mother Clemrick Crawbruck, your other brother Crothers with his club foot might surely fall. And was it not just last year, not much more than a year from this eve, while slithering through our fine town that Elsmeropolus came upon your sweet young round wife and made her his meal, Fer Bingelton?" said, first very softly and directly with tightened eyes, thence almost shouting by the now nearly enraged William Benington. Yet hence, even these bluntly vivid remarks brought no emotions and appeared to fall upon deafened ears. "Thence, it wouldst be I, William Benington a frail quail quill tailor go mine-own self and do away this beastly burden." To William Benington's astonishment, a spontaneous cheer rang out, as wouldst a midsummer's whirl might over the just so previously dead quiet. Now it was William Benington's turn to stare in a mindless daze. Before long tremendous festivities ensued. Bread was baked and banners made while William Benington planned his attack, as the celebrations continued. A day was set for ten sunsets from the full moon. And there was much preparing to do for William Benington. William Benington knew Elsmeropolus was a fire-breathing dragon and the only protection from his lethal breath was his own fallen scales. So sometime before the attack, William Benington had to enter the cave of Elsmeropolus and retrieve scales right from under the nose of the sleeping monster. William Benington waited for the full moon so as to help him find his way through the dense forest and find the cave. The full moon came quickly and William Benington found himself on his way to face his adversary. The townspeople followed him to the town gate with pats on his back and much merriment, but William Benington was undistracted. His mission was but all that was on his but mind. There was a long field to trek before the edge of the forest and William Benington could hear the cheers of his fellow townsmen fade before he reached the wood. As soon as he entered the forest, the world, as he knew it, changed. The forest seemed to take on a life of its own. The air was thick and cold, the sky was sparse, and the trees whispered and wailed. Finally, William Benington saw the hillside that housed the cave and the dreaded Elsmeropolus. Now he must meander towards the full moon to find the opening of the cave. And he stood there before it. The warm stench that exhaled from the cave entrance was sickening and William Benington retched and heaved. He could hear the beast inside and smell his foul breath and dung. The cave was black, but for a glow around a bend that perpetually piloted within the nostrils of Elsmeropolus. In the cave, William Benington felt his way along the slime-coated walls until eventually there lay his fate. William Benington could only clearly distinguish the head of the monster as its body faded into the darkness. And its head was huge and hideous. Its nose was like two port-hole coal furnaces that spit sparks and oozed goo with each long laborious breath. William Benington was stunned and stood wide-eyed with mouth agape for what seemed far too long.