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"Come," shouted the merchant from the top of the market platform. "Come all and view this fine dragon I have for sale. See how his muscles bulge, how perfect his wings are, how shiny his scales are. Certainly this is a fine bargain at seven hundred thousand gold pieces."
A crowd had gathered around the merchant. Most, however, were not listening to the man as he spoke. Instead their attention was focused on the huge blue dragon behind the merchant. Tight, blue dragon scale wrapped around chorded muscle shone brightly in the afternoon sun. The wings, as the man had said, were perfect and well defined extensions of the dragon's monstrous torso. Its head rotated slowly on its long, serpentine neck as its eyes, sharp and alert, surveyed the crowd. Yes, this was a fine, powerful looking dragon.
"What's its name?" Shouted a voice.
"Can it speak?" Came another.
"It's name is Skystrike," responded the merchant, "and indeed this fine, intelligent beast can speak. Show them my pet," he turned to the dragon. "Speak to the crowd." The merchant eyed the dragon, placing a hand on a whip attached to his belt.
Skystrike rotated his head laziliy from the crowd and met the merchant's gaze squarely. He appeared to smile, but snorted and said nothing. The merchant's eyes narrowed at the dragon's insolent refusal to speak. He quickly pulled the whip, which began to glow, from his belt, snapping it at Skystrike.
"Speak you spiteful drake, or feel the sting of Wyrmtamer." The merchant cracked the whip again, and magical energy filled the air. Skystrike cringed as the whip cracked, then glared angrily at the tormenting merchant. Finally he spoke.
"Yes ladies and noblemen, for my masters price you can own me," he snarled. "I am, as you can see, faithful and obedient. Imagine the tasks you can accomplish, the enemies you can eliminate and the journeys you can make with a dragon at your command." Skystrike reared up and stretched his body after he spoke, showing off his full, powerful frame.
"Well my friends," the merchant chimed in, "you have seen and heard. Would someone like to bid?"
"Five hundred thousand gold!" One man shouted. "Five hundred and twenty five!" Shouted another.
The bidding went on for some fifteen minutes more until a nobleman by the name of Gerard won the bidding war at seven hundred thousand gold pieces. The crowd, some grim faced and disappointed, some offering Gerard congratulations, dispersed as Gerard approached the merchant. It was agreed between the two that the payment would be made that night at Gerard's keep. The merchant then held up the whip.
"This is Wyrmtamer," the man indidated the whip, holding it out to Gerard. "Now then, lets discuss its price…the price of keeping Skystrike under control . . . "
**********
One week late Gerard and several of his knights approached Skystrike in the courtyard of the keep. The knights carried a large saddle that Gerard had had made. Gerard himself carried Wyrmtamer, which he had purchased for a mere twenty thousand gold. Skystrike lifted his head curiously as they approached.
"Good afternoon my pet," Gerard said. "I have come to test your abilities of flight." He pointed to the saddle the knights carried.
Skystrike snarled. "If you wish to fly, find a wizard to enchant a carpet for you, for you will not be saddling me with that contraption."
Gerard, a little outraged, pulled Wyrmtamer from his belt and cracked it once. "You will obey me wyrm! You are mine, bought and paid for and as long as I hold this whip you will obey!"
Skystrike, much to the contrary of his reactions when the merchant wielded the whip, showed no fear. In fact, he began to laugh, a deep, distressing, rumbling laugh. Gerard and his men were confused . . . and very afraid.
"That whip?" Skystrike sneered. "You expect to hurt me with an enchanted piece of leather. No Gerard, I don't think so. However, I would like to thank you for your gold, and it was not a pleasure knowing you."
Skystrike rose up on his hind legs, barring his claws and teeth. The knights dropped the saddle and drew swords, and Gerard began to swing Wyrmtamer wildly. The group moved in bravely to fight the beast, but their bravery was for naught. Skystrike did not even waste energy on blasting them with his deadly breath of lightning bolts. He simply toyed with them, and after a few moments it was over. The courtyard soon became a bloody mess of mangle bodies, Gerard's the most prominently shredded. Skystrike smiled at his work, picked up the useless "Wyrmtamer" whip and vaulted into the air.
**********
"Your share, my monstrous partner," said the merchant as he pointed to a large sack off to the side.
Skystrike lifted the bag gently. After testing its weight a few times, he gave the merchant a smile. He then threw the bag to the ground, splitting it open and scattering the contents. The merchant was shocked as he watched the coins, thousands of them, tinkle around randomly. Then he felt the dragons gaze fall on him, and he grew afraid.
"You seek to cheat me!" Roared Skystrike.
"No . . .I would never . . ."
"Silence! You deceitful scum. You thought that I would not notice that you had lessened my share? I will tear out your heart for this!" Skystrike reached toward the merchant, who quickly pulled Wyrmtamer from his belt. He cracked it violently, shouting for the dragon to back away.
Again came Skystrike's rumbling laughter. "You idiot! You once tricked me with that whip. You once convinced me that it was indeed enchanted to tame dragons, that it would cause me great pain to be struck by it. No more. I have know your secret for some time. The whip is useless. Its magical enchantments Hold no sway over me.
"I have waited for you to make a mistake. Waited for you to give me a reason to strike you down. You needed me. You needed me to earn the riches you now hold, yet with all of your gold you sought to cheat me. I am your only source of income. I hold all of the dice in this partnership my friend, and they have been weighted in my favor for some time."
The merchant was groveling on his knees now. He backed slowly away, pleading for mercy, but Skystrike had none in his blood.
"Goodbye swine," Skystrike inhaled deeply, and the merchant screamed and placed his arms in front of his face.
"Noooooo!" And then it was over. Skystrike opened his maw and from deep within the furnaces of his belly came a deadly lightning bolt to blast the poor wretch beneath him. A crack of thunder rocked the air, and when the smoke cleared, the merchant's body was a charred, electrocuted husk.
**********
Skystrike entered his lair carrying full satchels of gold and precious jewels. He emptied the bags' contents, and stood back to gaze upon the awesome sight of his treasure hoard. He had never liked or trusted the merchant, but with the man's schemes, and now with his death, Skystrike was indeed a rich and prestigious drake among his peers. With one last look at the immense hoard, he lay down on top of it an began the deep, pleasant sleep of a dragon.
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