The Dragon's Complaint Department

The Dragon's Complaint Department bureaucracy, with scales The goblin behind the desk did not look up. "Form?" Sir Aldric, third son of a minor house, four days' ride from home and one dragon short of a knighthood, slid the parchment across. "Form Seven. Refusal to Engage in Single Combat." The goblin stamped it. "Grounds?" "I challenged the dragon of Ember Hollow at dawn, as tradition requires. It looked at me. It said — and I quote — 'No thank you.' Then it went back inside." "Mm. Did it breathe fire at you?" "It offered me a scone." The goblin's pen paused. "A scone." "Cranberry. It was excellent, which frankly made everything worse. I cannot be knighted for eating a dragon's scone. The College of Heralds was extremely clear." The

The rest of this story stays locked unlock it to see how everything turns out The rest of this story stays locked unlock it to see how everything turns out The rest of this story s