Here's a scenario that recently came up in a game of mine: A dragon well-known for terrorizing local villages and...

Here's a scenario that recently came up in a game of mine: A dragon well-known for terrorizing local villages and cities over the millennia has recently had a genuine change of heart and wishes to become good. They want to atone for their sins and live a righteous life. Unfortunately, they're not really sure how.

How would you help them in this journey? Assume that they are willing to take your advice.

Task them with destroying a great evil or negate a world ending event.

Hell, telling them to just do good would go a long way.

Start with basic ethics and clearing out bandits. Go from there.

Bump because interested in seeing where this goes.

become the paladin's squire. That should help him learn how to smite all the evil.

I don't know if jumping right into killing is a good idea. They need to learn temperance first.

The paladin?

...make the dragon a paladin. I like it. That's a lot of evil that can be smote.

But what god would a prideful being like a dragon worship?

Bahamut, bitch

Imagine an awkward meeting between a Gold dragon and a Red clad in specially-made paladin-like gear.
>"so, uh... how do I do this? I mean, I've been making an effort, reparations, protecting a nearby village, all that, even got this armor so folks would be less confused. But it feels like... like I'm missing something, or I'm doing something wrong."
>"don't take this the wrong way, if you truly intend to do Good from here on out, but it feels like I'M doing something wrong by not trying to kill you right now."

I'm not trusting this dragon unless it's willing to donate its entire hoard to charity. Anything less and it's probably just goofing off for a century or two, just giving out this human morality concept a spin for kicks and giggles.

resettle. locals might be unforgiving.

I'm going to pound out a probably shitty writing thing for this.

Give me a moment.

>"You see a peasant drop his wallet. What do you do?"

"All of it?"

The human stood with his arms crossed, creases spreading through the dark red sleeves of his cloak. It was a posture that Fylon was becoming increasingly accustomed to. Surprisingly, considering his almost two thousand years of prior life, he couldn't recall seeing it until a few weeks ago. Most humans tended to have their arms up, running in terror. For good reason, too.

"Yes, all of it," Andrew replied. "Every last piece of copper."

Fylon frowned, glancing back into the cave. Surely the knight was joking! Human humor was difficult to understand, it...

No, even he could not delude himself of that. The knight did not joke often, and when he did it was always with a sort of glimmer in his eyes that the dragon could easily pick out.

"But I cannot!" Fylon said. "Surely, with such riches, much good could be achieved! To simply throw it out would be preposterous---an evil in itself."

Andrew was not amused. That much was clear from how the lines in his forehead grew into chasms.

"You are not throwing it out," Andrew said, voice low. "You are donating it."

"One and the same," Fylon reasoned, taking a step to his favorite display of armor. The dragon held out a claw, as if to touch it. "With my wisdom and intelligence, I shall undoubtedly be the most skilled in determining its allocation. The losses in efficiency via transferring it to human hands would be astronomical!"

Andrew sighed, bringing a gloved hand to his forehead. Fylon felt a small twinge of an unpleasant feeling he'd only recently begun to actually feel---a hot rush of blood to the face, a burning desire to rescind past actions. Shame, he was fairly certain it was called. One of the more annoying things about this entire process.

"Again with the arrogance," Andrew said, in a tone that could only increase that awful feeling. "This is why you must be rid of the riches--with these things in your possession, you will always see yourself above others."

"But I..."

Andrew's shook his head, and the emotion gained new fire. Fylon closed his mouth, licking his lips. Perhaps this was not worth it. Andrew's armor was quite well-made--it would look so perfect next to Sir Robertson's pair. All it would take would be two small neck movements, a deep inhalation...


No, of course not. He had sworn to change. Rescinding on that now would count as failure. He was a dragon. That was not in his nature.

"I still worry about the allocation," Fylon said. "Such a vast sum must be spent properly."

"And properly it will be, Fylon," Andrew said. "If you truly wish, you may donate it to the church of Byrn'ke. His priests spend their entire lives studying the manners of money and finance. They, of all people, should use the wealth efficiently."

"That... would be agreeable," Fylon said, biting back his curses. Andrew would know of these things.

"Very well," Andrew said, uncrossing his arms. The knight thrust both gloved hands forward, at his shoulder level. Such crude means of casting. Really, it was distasteful.

"Remove the protective enchantments," Andrew commanded.

Fylon swallowed, suddenly feeling very nervous. What was he doing? Not only was he speaking with a human, he was--he was--


"I shall," Fylon said, in a voice that didn't sound at all like his own. Much too restricted, small.

The dragon tilted his head, concentrating. Spells this complex took some time to unravel, even for one such as himself. No matter. Just a few minutes.

The dragon felt his heart rate increase as the first spell was dismissed. Ah, no matter. Magic required great effort, it made sense that he would strain himself.

Another spell was gone. A pulsing, pounding noise resonated in the back of his mind. The armor collection was unprotected. He needed to—

No, that was the point. That was his intention. The armor collection had to be unprotected. All had to be unprotected. The armor. And the weapons. And-and the Jewels. The gold, of course, yes, the gold needed to—

"I've changed my mind!" Fylon cried out. "I can't! I mean-I'll-I won't interfere, but I will not do this. It is not in my nature."

Andrew met the dragon's shaky gaze with a stare. Fylon was reminded of a time when he was very small, barely more than a hatchling, and had misjudged the thickness of a sheet of ice. The cold water enveloped his body for only a moment, before being turned to steam by his mighty breath, but that moment had stuck in his mind, that feeling of frigid water strangling his lungs and petrifying his kin had never left him. Now, looking into the knight's eyes, he felt some echo of that again, some horrid reflection in how utterly detached the man's eyes were.

"Of course it is not," Andrew said, without a hint of emotion. "If the ability to give was, you would have no need of me, or of my order, or of any guidance."

Fylon looked down, at the stone floor of his cave. There was something off about it, some darker patch of---

Oh. Ash. Yes, he'd---he hadn't ever cleaned the result of that particular encounter. Come to think of it, he rarely cleaned the ashes of those he'd slain at all. It was far simpler to just cover the blemishes with piles of gold. If all of it was to be removed, his cave would look quite a mess.

"For all my other students, I force them to do this themselves," Andrew said. "They deliver their great wealth to the more worthy personally, to truly show their separation from their past self. For you, I have granted you the mercy of performing this action myself---not out of kindness, but out of necessity. I shall not extend this mercy to removing the curses your own hand as spun. Finish casting."

Fylon looked down at the dark patch. He took a deep breath, and for a moment was himself unsure if he would release it as air, or punishment for the human's insolence.

Fylon held the breath. Then, slowly, he allowed it to leak through his mighty nostrils.

"Alright," the dragon said, in a quiet voice that seemed to echo through the room.

The last protection soon lay broken. Fylon closed his eyes, not wishing to look. Unfortunately, he could not prevent himself from hearing Andrew's spells---the bursts of energy, the clank of metal. The entire process took a five-minute eternity. Fylon did not open his eyes for the duration.

"Okay," Andrew said, in a voice equally quiet. "It is finished."

Fylon opened his eyes, to see his newly-barren cave. It was larger than he remembered it. More spacious. Horribly empty.

"You have done well," Andrew said. "Not perfectly. But well."

>---

Well, hopefully somebody enjoyed that.

It was a good read, user. Thanks for the effort.

Utter dogshit. Please never write again.

Thanks user!

And what happens when that dragon decides to be evil again? Kill the flying lizard, I say.

...

Honestly not great. Overly heavy handed with the moral message and doesn't do anything to establish motivation, and the action is far too drastic to be believable.

Should have established a reason for the Paladin to be there, tied it to why the Dragon wants to change, and then had this be the culmination of the Dragon getting rid of the rest of his hoard for a clean start so that you could work in how he say the benefits of previous smaller acts of charity - both to flesh out the sense of progress and character development and to make it seem more reasonable than him having implicit faith in a random Paladin.

Instead you wanked about with purple prose to try and establish the setting and tone, which is like putting lipstick on a pig.

But hey. You at least did write something, and this is why every writer has an editor.

It was intended to be a short scene that would take place in the context of a larger story, not a full story itself. It was a test more than anything.

Putting this scene into a sensible context would require a minimum of 20K words of story, I think, which is a bit more than I can chew at 12:00 at night.

Thanks for the feedback, though. Looking back on it, it is pretty fucking bad.

No, user. I am not interested in to be lied by a thing that has a snake tongue and to be eaten afterwards

Pretty good as a part of a larger piece, not so much as a standalone.
Also, you seem to write a bit long-winded. Editing down would be a good skill to aim for.

But snakes are cute! And so are dragons!

Rude, but accurate. Practice makes perfect but don't publish till you're proficient.

If he agrees to it, geas him to be the paladin's mount for a decade or two. It's not much time to a dragon but it's enough time to learn and it will make the paladin's job a lot easier in the mean time.