"What is the meaning of life?"
Hagar leapt towards the odious voice, slicing his broadsword through the still air, streaking across the night sky like a shooting star. "Canute! How dare ye ponder such questions? Silence your philosophical brain; we have a dragon to slay! Focus!" The tip of his sword trembled at the bare, pale, flustered throat.
And the air warmed around as Canute's face flushed red, and with quivering legs, and with a thud, he had fainted.
"Awaken!" Flecks of Hagar's fury splattered on the dust. "You are no match for the dragon! The armies of Hades could not pass me, yet you - pah! For conquest, strength and power, that is the meaning of life! Coward!"
And Hagar left his partner helpless on the floor. The dragon loomed near, and the fear for this dragon loomed far. A huge monster it was, fangs as long as your arm; roasting fireballs burst from its lungs with every breath. Hagar narrowed his eyes, hissed through his teeth.
The dragon slaying was easy, but deserting his friend was harder. Hagar's chest of steel was but a shield for his butter heart. The women fell for his massive balls but held them for his soul.
No word from Canute since the death of the dragon and guilt played his arteries like a harp. Weeks dragged for years, and, grasping back tears, Hagar threw on his bearskin jacket, shackled up his sword, and left.
The search was fast, as Canute had not moved. He was cold, and quiet, and dead. And Hagar screamed the screams of a thousand agonies at the stars. For his adventures had been in vain; for love for your fellow man had always been his meaning of life.
Hagar threw his sword in the shrubs and became a poet.
JackPhantasm
your story rocks and my story sucks :3
Earfetish
didn't put quite as much time into it as the average; I only saw the thread very late on
thanks a lot anyway I'll read yours