“Are we there yet?” Vainqueur asked for the hundredth time, as they flew over yet another stinking human village.
“Nope, sorry,” manling Victor replied, his eyes set on the map he struggled to keep pace with the wind. “Ogron was last seen near Haudemer, and this is Pointin.”
“How do you know?” Vainqueur lambasted his minion guide. They had flown all the way across the land, almost reaching the western sea; yet missed the target. “All of your dirty villages look the same!”
“Oh, Your Majesty, I believe the next one will be the right one.”
“And how so?”
“Because of the fires, Your Majesty.”
Indeed, a column of fire rose from the west, on the coast. Vainqueur squinted, noticing a small city under assault by a large group of manlings.
Vainqueur approached the city and circled it from above to take a good view of it and the nearby beaches. It was larger than the villages they had visited, with stone houses and a wooden extension leading into the sea itself; a port welcomed a dozen floating buildings the manlings called ships. Quite a few of the inhabitants hastily tried to board them.
A large group of manlings, around eighty, attacked the city from the north, axemen slaughtering people like pigs while bowmen set the roofs of nearby buildings on fire. Dozens of corpses littered the stony ground, while defenders used carts as improved barricades to slow down the invaders’ progress.
A monstrous, fifteen-foot tall cyclops led the manling attackers, swinging a large two-handed axe which cut soldiers in half with each blow. Arrows and spears bounced off his thick green skin, as he tossed carts away with every step.
Incensed at them not stopping to marvel at his arrival, Vainqueur let out a mighty roar from above, and it did the trick. Everyone looked up at him, freezing at his crimson majesty, their faces draining of colors.
“A dragon!” one of the defenders shouted on the ground. “Ogron has a dragon!”
“Ogron? Aha, finally!” Vainqueur chuckled. “Minion, on whom do I land?”
“The attackers, Your Majesty.”
Vainqueur descended in the streets below, the manlings fleeing at his sight; but not fast enough. His landing blew away nearby houses and crushed half a dozen latecomers.
Only the cyclops hadn’t run, glaring at his men with its single eye. “Cowards! Dragons aren’t scary!” he shouted at them.
“Of course not, they are amazing,” Vainqueur replied, releasing his minion on the ground. The defenders cowered behind the barricades, unsure how to take this turn of events. “Which of you is Ogron the Ogre?”
The cyclops struck the ground with his axe, pulverizing stones and making the street tremble. “I am!”
Vainqueur looked at the cyclops, then burst out laughing, the one-eyed meat responding with a glare. “No seriously, which of you is Ogron?”
“Your Majesty, this is Ogron,” the minion said.
“Minion, this is a cyclops, not an ogre. Ogres have two eyes.”
“Yeah, I know, but that’s Ogron the Ogre anyway. I’ve seen his poster.”
“You goddamn righ’,” the one-eyed ogre said with rising frustration. “Ain’t no other Ogron! I traveled to this country to figh’ and make war for Gardemagne! I bled dry, and instead of gold, the king gave me a dirt poor farm! Ogron ain’t no farmer, he is a warrior! Ogron will not stop until—”
Vainqueur zoned out at that point, too confused by the eye paradox. All he could notice were isolated blabbering, “Ogron, Ogron, Ogron, pirate! Blah blah, flee the country! Ogrongron, knights!”
“—and that is why Ogron will sail these boats!”
“Minion, if he is a cyclops and not an ogre, why is he called Ogron the Ogre?” Vainqueur ignored the one-eyed ogre. “It doesn’t make sense!”
“Ogron is called Ogron the ogre because...” the cyclops said with a low growl, swinging his axe with impatience and showing his bloodied teeth. “Ogron eats people.”
“You too?” Vainqueur looked at the cyclops with a new, fresh gaze. He was just fat enough around the angles, with plenty of meat…
The cyclops let out a roar, raising his axe to swing it at Vainqueur. “You die—”
Chomp!
Vainqueur took a bit out of the giant’s upper torso, swallowing a third of the corpse in one go. He sprayed blood all over his mouth, too ravenous to care. Everyone looked at Vainqueur as he digested the cyclops’ eye and head, the manlings having all turned pale for some reason.
“Minhion, shyclopsh tashte like shalty pihg!” Vainqueur chewed on the giant’s flesh, finding the taste too sweet to stop with one bite. “Sho good! I wansh more!”
“What about some human bandit snack to go with the taste?” Manling Victor suggested, pointing a finger at the cyclops’ pale followers.
They looked a bit too sick now, but Vainqueur approached his muzzle to smell them closer; at least one of the archers had soiled himself, so the dragon made a face. The bandits panicked at his approach, running away from him screaming.
Vainqueur wondered if he should pursue them, then decided he would rather eat the rest of the cyclops than run. He absentmindedly grabbed a large chunk of a house’s stone wall, and tossed it at the fleeing manlings, crushing many of them like insects. The others sped up even faster after that, and Vainqueur returned to his meal.
He ate the rest of the one-eyed ogre with two more bites and let out a belch.
You gained a level in [Noble]! You earned the Class Perk: [Snobbery]!
+1 STR, +1 VIT, +1 CHA, +1 LCK!
[Snobbery]: your attacks inflict five percent more damage on non-noble targets, and you receive five percent less damage from non-noble assaillants.