I a Dwagon. I thinks I writes story about dwagons.
DA DWAGON AND DA ORC
by Snoots Dwagon
Is true story...
The orc smashed through the brush in typical orcish manner, unheeding of the damage caused to fauna or small burrow. His huge battle axe, Crunch and his sword Slasha in hand, he knew himself to be da biggest, baddest creature in da land. He was ORC! Let all fear him.
A few hundred yards further, unfortunately in his path, lay a nest of eggs. The eggs looked odd, covered with scales instead of normal shells, each one colored differently. They had not been wisely placed, and had the dragon who laid them not had a few too many ales that evening in a friendly drinking contest, they might have been placed on a high ridge where they belonged. But, as things might happen, laid they were, the dragon went off to explore a strange sound, and never found her way back.
However, as things would have it, she had the good fortune to lay them near a steam vent, which proved perfect for completing the job she started, even if the inhabitants would hatch without the oversight of a mother.
It should be noted that dwagons are somewhat mischievous even with a mother to guide them. One can only imagine a brood without such guidance.
Of all the eggs, only one had hatched, its former inhabitant pecking at the empty shell and examining the other still-intact orbs. Before long, his brothers and sisters would emerge. But for now he was alone, confused, without mother, and perfectly unaware of all the above. Which meant of course, he was completely happy and curious about everything. Pure, unadulterated dwagon.
He pecked at a couple of eggs, and was rewarded with a resounding peck from within the shell. It would not be long now, maybe an hour or two, before general mayhem would occur, courtesy of a dozen dwagons on the loose. But for now, he was by himself.
There was one thing he knew above all other things: he was the "Offishul Guardian of Da Eggs", an dat was dat.
Unaware of all this, was an orc.
There are three things orcs and dwagons have in common. Both are totally fearless, totally clueless, and therefore totally happy. The unwitting orc happily blundered on through the forest, bringing a near-end-of-life to the countless creatures that barely escaped the size-25 boots that clomped unheedingly forward. Unheeding that is, until suddenly he was greeted by a foot-tall winged lizard with attitude.
"Hi dere!" chirped a high, squeaky voice.
"HUH?" responded the orc, the voice actually making its way through his dull senses and causing him to stop. "HAR! A dwagon!" he roared.
"You an Orc?" the dwagon chirped. "How is you?" The orc looked at him first with one eye, then the other.
"I is fine!" the orc rumbled. "An lots better now dat I gots eggs fer breakfas!"
Now dwagons are many things, but slow-witted is not one of them... which is where they differ from orcs. The dwagon immediately understood the orc's meaning and, since he was "Offishul Guardian of Da Eggs", that was just not going to happen.
"Nope nope nope," the dwagon politely corrected the orc. "Dese are my eggs and dey hatchin' an you can'ts eats 'em." Which of course, the orc thought to be extremely hilarious.
"HAR HAR HAR!" the orc laughed. "You make good joke!" Upon which, the orc made the serious mistake of actually reaching for an egg.
"AARRRGGHH!" the orc roared, pulling back his hand, now showing several dwagon bite marks. "You in trouble now! You bites an orc, you on da menu!"
"BLEH!" the dwagon chirped, spitting. "Orcses tastes nasty. BLEH!"
The orc growled. It was obviously smashin time. His hands tightened around Smasha and Crunch as he prepared to add dwagon to his diet.
"DAT DOES IT!" the orc cried. "Eggs an meat on da side!"
"Nuuuuuuuuuuu!" the dwagon screeched and began running around the orc's feet, his little wings flapping.
"I gonna smash you!" the orc yelled. Thinking quickly, the dwagon ran over to the nest and grabbed a piece of his egg shell and put it on his head. His new helmet intact, he turned to the orc.
"Nya nya!" it sang, running to the side to draw attention away from the nest. The orc, totally forgetting the eggs, charged after it.
One thing can be said about dwagons: they are fast. Not as fast as an orc, but a dwagon can make much sharper turns. This was a fact the orc discovered as its head made full-bore, full-run contact with a tree that refused to move out of his way. The orc looked up at the branches, aware that for some reason he was laying on his back. Slowly, cognizance returned to him.
"HAR! GOOD ONE!" the orc laughed. But his laughter was cut short when he suddenly felt dwagon on his chest, saw two little slit-eyes staring into his, and felt claws tighten on his chainmail, which he was fortunate to be wearing at the time.
"Sorry bout dis!" the dwagon said, and suddenly latched onto the orc's nose.
"AAAARGH!" the orc cried, jumping to his feet. The dwagon hung on with tiny teeth and fangs as the orc danced around. Just as the orc reached toward the dwagon to dislodge it, the dwagon jumped from it's claw-held position and landed atop the orc's head.
Orcs unfortunately have rather bulky, if long, arms. While they are pure murder in battle because of their reach, orcs simply have great difficulty reaching over their heads in full battle armor. Which is why the dwagon suddenly found itself enjoying its perch, as well as a vantage point from which it could watch the orc dancing around in little circles trying to get to the dwagon. The creature sat down on the orc's helmet, wedging itself between two spikey horns, and enjoyed the ride.
"YA LITTLE SCALED RAT!" the orc cried out. Unable to reach the dwagon, it occurred to the orc to try the battle axe instead. It turned the axe toward the dwagon and hauled back to swing the gigantic, devastating weapon.
He forgot the dwagon was sitting on his head.
The orc found himself looking up at another set of tree branches, different from the first, battle axe Crunch buried deeply in his helmet and just barely grazing the skin beneath. The sound of the impact of stone against metal still reverberated through the forest. Slowly the orc rose to his feet and spent the next couple of minutes walking around in random little circles.
Eventually regaining his limited senses, the orc pried the stone axe from the helmet.
"HAR! GOOD ONE!" the orc said. He turned to see where the dwagon might be. Unfortunately for the orc, the dwagon was right behind him, head cocked, eyeing the one, single area of unarmored body part on the whole creature. The orc heard one, single chirped phrase...
"HINEY BUTT!" This was followed by significant pain to said "hiney butt" as several very sharp teeth sunk unto his posterior. It of course, took a full five seconds for the pain impulse to reach the orc's limited perceptive faculties, during which time the dwagon hung on and sunk teeth deeper. So by the time the orc realized what was going on, there was a considerable amount going on.
"AAAARRRRGGGHHH!" the orc roared in pain, spinning once again to try to dislodge the dwagon from his backside. The dwagon of course, thought this was great fun, and would have continued to hang on as the orc spun, except for the irresistible urge to utter one, single cry of glee.
"WHEEEEEEE!" Upon which, the dwagon dropped to the ground, unfortunately right in front of the egg nest.
"I gonna get you now!" the orc roared. Forward he came, with the weight and muscle of a good size bear, placing the dwagon in a predicament. If the dwagon stood there, he would be stomped flat. If he moved, the eggs would be stomped flat. What could he do?
"LOOKIE DERE!" the dwagon cried out. "BLONDE NAKEE PRINCESS!"
"Whuh?" the orc responded, stopping suddenly in his tracks and spinning around to see what the dwagon was talking about. Which of course, was a mistake.
Instantly he felt severe pain around the ankles as a very swift ankle-biter used one of its main, instinctual attacks. The dwagon wove in and out between the immense feet, nipping at the orc's ankles in such a manner so as to continually draw the orc away from the egg nest. The orc chased the dwagon, which in turn kept biting his ankles, which caused him to further chase the dwagon, which kept biting his ankles in a bizarre battle dance. This dance continued until the dwagon looked straight up and noticed something else: the Orc wasn't armored underneath from the front side either. Nothing but rough cloth separated Orc from air.
Now, it is a well known fact that dwagons have different forms of breath. Some have fire breath, which fortunately for the orc was not the case here. Some have acid breath, which was with equal fortune not the case. But in this particular case, this dwagon's breath was sufficient to meet the need.
The poor orc's eyes widened as the sensation slowly dawned upon his dull brain. For when one speaks of dwagon ice breath, mere cold is not the issue. Even snow and ice cold does not come close. In the far, distant future, a group of men called scientists will discover a substance called liquid nitrogen, which might be almost as cold as dwagon ice breath. And that breath was focused directly underneath the orc, going straight up his chainmail skirt to unprotected regions. The orc found this somewhat disquieting.
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" he screamed, which provided the dwagon with no end of amusement as the orc danced around, dropping both Slasha and Crunch as his attention focused completely on things far more essential to his well-being than a couple of mere weapons. Fortunately for the orc, his dull senses had caused him to move before all areas of anatomy were totally and completely frozen, and after a few minutes both orc blood and sensation began returning to numbed regions.
In the meantime, unbeknownst to both orc and dwagon, things were happening back at the nest. One peck, then two, then a chirp, then five, then eleven as the other eggs hatched. Eleven sets of eyes peered out of shattered egg shells, taking their first look at the world. And that first look was that of orc dancing around and howling, clutching smarting body parts. Which was something eleven dwagons thought was funny to no end. Quickly they climbed from the nest and joined the orc in this wunnerful dance.
After a while the orc settled down, the numbness, followed by the pins and needles sensation, subsiding to the point it didn't require the entire attention of his limited consciousness. Regaining his senses, he looked down to see not one, but twelve dwagons, of all different colors, chirping and dancing right along with him. Slowly a smile crossed his dull face.
"HAR!" the orc cried out. "GOOD ONE!" and he sat down on the ground facing the dwagons.
"OK, no egg breakfas", the orc stated wisely, considering all the eggs had now hatched. Resigned to his fate, he reached into his backpack. "I guesses I jus settle for cookies."
Suddenly twelve dwagons stopped dancing. Twelve heads snapped toward the backpack, twelve sets of eyes locked on the hapless orc, and twelve little voices chirped in unison...
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Copyright 2008 Snoots Dwagon