The Second Week of Prompt a Week Writing Challenge

The Second Week of Prompt a Week Writing Challenge

Righto I’m a day late been a busy week! I’d like to apologize I’m not the best accent writer and i ran a little longer than I meant to because I had to set up everything before the conversation could come to me. I’m thinking the dragon later goes and burns the French Armada 😉

Week 2: Write a page of dialogue between a dying but powerful dragon and the boy who stumbled into his lair in search of something with which to save his people. (Inspired by The Riftwar Saga)

The boy scowled at the ragged tear of light above him. He stood, brushing broken roots and clods of dirt off himself. He stared at the hole for a long while, as if it was something new to him. Finally he let out a grunt and leapt, fingers reaching and grasping. His face lit up as his hand closed around a root.
“Oof!” The boy scowled at the broken root in his hand and back at the ragged tear of light. He spent another long moment pondering the hole.
“Sod it.” The boy growled, turning to contemplate the darkness. With a final glance at the hole the boy set forth into the dark, shouldering his bag. Before overlong the boy was lost, maneuvering on nothing but touch and faith.
The boy froze suddenly, his eyes going wide in the ebony darkness. He could hear something that didn’t belong. It sounded as though there was a great bellows pumping. Curious, hungry and thoroughly lost, the boy didn’t hesitate to follow the sound as best he could. Slowly, but surely the sound grew louder and the closeness of the darkness seemed to relent. Then, the boy fell.
He muttered curses as he picked himself up. He hadn’t trip, the tunnel it seems had simply come to a stop, dropping him a good way down a sloped chute.
“Hmph, is someone there?” A voice, baritone and resonate seemed to shake the darkness.
“WAHG!” The boy convulsed in fright, collapsing to the ground. The sound of a great many metal objects sliding against each other joined the bellows.
“There is! “Have you come to challenge the might Ignimors to battle?!” The voice roared, “Show yourself, hiding in the dark like a thief will do you no good!” The boy, quavering in fear at this unknown presence, stood up slowly.
“I a’nt no thief!” He shouted back,
“Eh? Then why would you be hiding in the darkness?” The voice rumbled, “And what manner of creature are you?”
“I am Nathaniel. I a’nt hidin’, I a’nt got no lat’rn. Wha’ are y’u?” Nathaniel struggled to keep the quaver from his voice.
“What! No light you say? How did you ever think to slay me without light?” The voice huffed, the force of the breath knocked Nathaniel over, “Let me fix that.” Soft blue light began to glow around the cavern, revealing golden mountains. Nathaniel’s eyes went wide with greed as he stared at the immeasurable wealth.
“Ah HA! Thief! I see you coveting my wealth!” Nathaniel’s angry retort died in his mouth as he turned to glare at the voice.
“WAGH!” He screeched.
“By the Gods, you’re nothing more than a mouthful! They sent a child after me, the greatest dragon alive?!” The dragon snorted in disbelief, “Quite your screeching boy, Iginmors doesn’t hunt children.”
“Wh’t kin of Nam is Ig’nmoris?” The boy struggled to control his shaking. The dragon was crimson red, with scales that were thicker than the boy’s hand. It was massive, filling the cavern. The boy noted ancient chains embedded in the dragon’s flesh.
“A FINE name is what it is. Given to me by your Romans when I scourged their lands. I was the one who burned Rome I’ll have you know! None of this silly Neo did it to renovate I heard of later. But surely you recognize a fine Latin Name such as mine?” The dragon seemed to puff himself up.
“Aye a’nt hea’d of no Romans before, Rome is where te Pope lives. It a’nt burned!”
“No Romans you say?! Boy just what language are we speaking?”
“En’lish, ‘ow can you not kno what you is speaking?”
“A dragon speaks every tongue! English you say? Haven’t heard of it before, are you sure you aren’t Roman? Last time I went to sleep, there were Roman’s everywhere.”
“Aye’m En’lish, and all I’s know is tha’ my Pa were drug ‘way to fight te dirty Fre’ch. I am lookin’ for te ol’ Abbey. Ma says there is a someat there tha’ sent te Sax’ns running. If aye find it, maybe my Pa wont hav’t fight!”
“So you have come to find me! A scourge to set upon your enemies, though I have no memory of chasing any Saxons away. I fought those dirty Romans though! Boy I told you about the Romans right?” The dragon cast a tight expression at the boy.
“Ya did. Whats te matter, ya going dumb?”
“DUMB? I’LL SHOW YOU DUMB!” The dragon roared and Nathaniel could see its muscles bunching, suddenly it let out a pained howl.
“Ah me, I’ve slept too long. Those damned Romans did me in, chaining me to this mountain with cruel barbs while their barbarian friends chanted their cants to keep me asleep.” The dragon sighed. “They worked their iron too deep, I’ll die chained to this mountain.”
“A’nt you a dragon? Ya jus’ gonna lay there an’ die?”
“Boy, the Romans were crafty demons who worked the land itself to chain me. Their barbarian friends used powerful magic to bind me. What makes you think I can escape?” Ignimors sighed.
“But ya gotta h’lp me! Aye have ta have found ya for a reas’n!”