The Dragonslayer's Proxy, Prologue

The Dragonslayer’s Proxy, Prologue.  Inciting incident that creates need for the protagonist to appear.

“Come forth, foul beast, and meet your fate!”

     The words were not nearly as impressive as they had seemed when he practiced them this morning as he was getting dressed.  In fact, the young man wondered if he had spoken them aloud, as there had appeared no foul beast in response. He tipped up the visor on his helmet and turned to two figures standing behind a large rock.  “What should I do now?”

     The taller figure shrugged.  “Try again.  But louder.  It sounded like you were mumbling last time.”  The second figure nodded in agreement.

     “Do I really need the helmet?  It’s hard to see anything through that little gap in the front, and besides...”  The young man’s attention was drawn to a movement above.  A white fluttering handkerchief was waving at him from the window near the castle turret, and he could almost make out the features of the girl waving it.  “Hello there!”  He waved back. “I’m here to save you!”   A distant cheer erupted.  On another knoll much further away, a small crowd with a horse drawn wagon had gathered to watch.  Some enterprising person in the group had thought to bring refreshments, and mugs were raised in a toast to his health. He lifted his sword over his head in response and the cheering grew louder.

     “Let’s get back to the task at hand, shall we?”  The tall figure pointed a finger at his head.  “Visor down, say it once more, much louder this time.”  She stepped back to hide behind the rock next to her companion. “Remember everything we taught you. Parry, thrust, then go for the gap under his wing.”

     “Right.”  He reached up to adjust his visor, then cleared his throat.  “Come forth, foul…”

     “Who dares approach my keep with such impunity?”  The words were loud and deep as if the very earth had bellowed out at him.  The dragon rose from behind the castle skyline, first a horrifying snake head and long, twisting neck covered in scales the color of soot, followed by wings of thick skin that stretched out half the length of the stone building.  This was a magnificent specimen even by dragon standards, and as he came into full view his eyes settled on the lone figure in armor standing before him.  

     The dragon opened his mouth and roared.  The razor sharp teeth in his enormous mouth glowed red like irons in a furnace.  The young man’s own mouth gaped open in response and he gripped the sword with numb fingers.

     “What business does this rat have with the Great Dragon Pyrrhus?”  

     There was an uncomfortably long pause.

     “Well?” 

     A small rock struck the man in the back, pinging off his armor.  “Go on!” a voice hissed from behind him.  His mouth was dry and his brain scrambled for words.  Never in his life had he imagined any creature could achieve such monstrous proportions.  And those eyes!  They looked down at him with slit pupils like a snake, like…

     Another pebble dinged off his helmet. 

     “It is I, York, come to save the Princess Valerie from your evil clutches!”  The words he had been practicing all week rushed out of his mouth automatically, and some part of his brain was horrified at their bravado.

     The dragon paused.  He lowered his head to look more closely at the man.  “Lady Valerie,” he said slowly. “She’s not a princess.  I don’t know you.  What did you say your name is?”