[ WP ] In a world where magic is chanted aloud , your lisp is impeding your dreams of being a wizard .

Cyril cringed beneath the boulder as waves of heat flowed above him. The barbarian Nurk had led the attack, swinging his mallet. He had been crushed in the dragon's scimitar fangs. Lynnia the Elven archer had taken cover and aimed her obsidian arrows at the belly of the beast, but they shattered against its iron plates. Its tail had whipped around a pillar and plucked her head from her body. The Paladin Goodness had raised his great sword, Righteous, and charged bellowing an invocation to his One God. By the not-unpleasant roasting smell, Cyril guessed how it had ended. 
 
 He was alone. There was only one chance now. The ancient words which would freeze a dragon to stone. He had flubbed it the first time, and his comrades were dead. He would n't fail them now. 
 
 He arose, turned and stared into the wyrm's eyes. It glared, smoking and terrible. 
 
 `` Draconith Thedimentith!'' bellowed Cyril. 
 
 The dragon stopped dead still. Cyril's heart filled with joy, and then shame he had failed his boon companions. Then the dragon spoke. 
 
 `` ART THOU THERIOUTH RIGHT NOW?'' 
 
 Cyril's eyes bugged out. `` Yeth?'' 
 
 The dragon shook its mighty head. `` HOW CANTHT THOU BE A WITHARD WITH A LITHP?'' 
 
 `` Well, I jutht wanted to be a thcribe but my parentth thaid...'' 
 
 `` THAY NO MORE, THMALL MAN. I UNDERTHTAND. MINE OWN PARENTTH WERE... DIFFICULT.'' 
 
 Cyril smiled weakly. `` I thee.'' 
 
 An uncomfortable moment of silence followed. Cyril scratched his nose. A second later, the dragon reached up with its talons and picked a charred Nurk bone from its front teeth. 
 
 `` I WANTED TO KILL YOU, BUT FOR THOME REATHON I LIKE YOU, THMALL MAN. I WILL GRANT YOU ONE WITH. WID. BOON! MAGICAL BOON!'' 
 
 Cyril blinked. `` Oh. Can I wid... ask for my boon companionth to be brought back to life? And altho teleported to the land of a thouthand delightth? With money and falthe memorieth of thlaying a great dragon?'' 
 
 The dragon blinked, then opened its mouth, then closed it again. After a moment, it spoke. `` NITHE CHOITHE. CONVOLUTED BUT ACTHEPTABLE.'' 
 
 Soon the four heroes sat beneath the Tree Where Each Fruit is Unique and Refreshing, on their fifth drink from the River of Intoxication without Hangover. As Nurk and Goodness drunkenly debated philosophy, Lynnia turned to Cyril and smiled. 
 
 `` I always knew you would n't fail us,'' she said. 
 
 `` Sometimes things work out for the best,'' replied Cyril.
