[ WP ] Tell me a story about goddamn DRAGONS .

Thulgaria was your typical 40-something-century old divorcee dragon. Her ex-husband, Hybolgion of the Death Skies, had left her a few ages ago for a younger dragoness with a larger, perkier flame sack and more horns. They had hoped to spice up their marriage by adding a third participant in the breeding cavern. In retrospect Thulgaria thought it had not been one of her better ideas. 
 
 She now filled her time with antiquing. It exactly replicated all the excitement of her former marriage. She was presently slithering amongst the shelves of Honest Sleazy McGee's Trade Emporium. Everything here was certainly acquired by honest means in that they honestly meant to run a knife across your throat in the process of acquiring your possessions. They even took the time to wash most of the blood off, it's the little things that show a shop keeper cares. She turned the corner and sitting there was The Holy Grail. 
 
 `` Hmm.'' Thulgaria hummed while scratching her jagged chin with the stub of her tail. She had been shocked 20 centuries earlier when she lost a piece of it in a battle to the death with Talos the Tail-Taker, but in all fairness how could she have seen that coming? She picked up the Grail and turned it over. Inscribed on the bottom in very holy letters was “ Property of J. H. Christ. If found displaced in space and time please return to 33 A.D. Jerusalem, Earth, The Universe ( The fucked up, hilariously cruel one with only 3 dimensions ) ” 
 
 No way was Thulgaria returning this! This is exactly what she had been looking for to really pull the treasure horde together as a center piece. This could be exactly what she needed to breath a little fire back into her pedestrian life. With the Holy of Holies in her malevolent clutch she stalked towards the cash register. 
 
 Thulgaria inquired the price. 
 
 Sleazy eyed her sleazily and grimaced a grimace that were you to view it, you would run madly from the internet dear reader; your mind turned to something akin to the inconsistent mush which they would have to feed you at whatever insane asylum the mental health officials inevitably confined you to. Thulgaria, having suffered the ravages of marriage, was un-phased. 
 
 “ Be ye warned, for to take possession of yonder cup ye invite a menagerie of knight errants to thy home!'twould surely be thy undoing, a dragoness of your age! Nay madam, I can not sell to ye with what I ken. ” 
 
 `` I'll give you five dragon bucks for it'' 
 
 “ Okay. ” agreed Sleazy, who was always happy to make any sale and was generally of very low ethical standards where money was concerned. His parents could have won world championships at giving babies fitting names. 
 
 Thulgaria flew back to her lair with the impetulant excitement of a young hatchling that had just incinerated her first family of peasants. She placed the Grail at the center of the horde chamber. She quickly spent a few minutes rolling in a few piles of gem stones as to hide the tired and faded look of her scales that the inevitable progression of aging had wrought. She perched atop the highest pillar, now all there as to do was wait. 
 
 It was about 4 in the afternoon when Thulgaria watched the beautiful stranger walk into her lair. He strode forth boldly through the mouth of the cave attired in the raiment of a Crusader. It was evident muscle issued forth from every fiber of his existence; physically, mentally and morally. He knelt in front of The Grail, made the sign of the cross and prayed. A silver beam of light that was like a unicorn vomiting gentle dreams of children issued forth from nowhere down onto his face and lit up his gently cascading long, blonde hair. He smiled and it was like receiving a blowjob from the face of God. Somewhere, on some dark, stygian jungle island lived a leper long forsaken by his tribe. The leper awoke that morning to find himself cured of his affliction. He ran out of his hut praising the Lord and was mauled by a tiger. Hey, God works in fucked up ways yo. 
 
 From everywhere and nowhere a cacophony of indescribable, Cthulian sounds coalesced into something so beautiful it could only be described as the sound of angels making love to a broken accordion. A magic jazz-flute voice began to sing in a language that was ancient even at the time the earth was young. It was alien, yet discernable. 
 
 The singing faded, leaving a gentle ringing in Thulgaria's ears. She contemplated what she just heard, and if she really heard it. The cavern smelt softly of fresh baked bread and wine. Bread so fresh you would have to travel backwards in time to get any fresher. 
 
 The man stood and flexed. His breastplate strained to contain the holy righteousness of his 33 ” pythons. 
 
 `` I…… am Sir Religio.'' proclaimed Sir Religio. 
 
 TO BE CONTINUED..... MAYBE?
