What a whirlwind. It turns out that the blacksmith in town has six sons old enough to ride a horse, and amongst them and their friends, we had twenty riders out spreading the word by half past morning. By the time the sun reached midday, the town was buzzing with anticipation and chatter. As the sun began to slide behind the western mountains, there were no empty chairs in the inn and the entire main street of town was clogged with wagons.
I spent most of the day explaining the situation to the blacksmith and a few prominent members of town. It wasn't too hard to help them understand that young dragons this far afield are not going to start killing people. Even at this young age the dragons would know that anything more than an occasional herd animal would lead to a flood of dragon hunters and treasure thieves.
As the sun began to set we got a couple wagons together to make a stage. They were arranged to face an empty field where the throngs began to gather, speculate, and spread panic. Before the crowd got too imaginative in their declarations of doom and gloom the blacksmith began to explain what he had learned about dragons.
"... NO! NO! Mr. Panicky Potato..."
He really said that.
"Your kids and your potatoes are safe from dragon spells, and the dragons will certainly not burn your house down. They are far too young to risk being swarmed by treasure hunters and angry potato farmers."
"Our friend here," gesturing toward me, "has seen them, and they are very young. They will hunt at night and stay as far from the farm houses as possible."
"What we need to do is just be aware, and keep our animals in the barn at night."
At that point there was very large foul-mouthed man that stood up and began blasting the blacksmith.
"What the -------- do you know about dragons, Daris the ---------- Doop!? You're not even smart enough to figure out where ------- babies come from to stem the tide... and who is this -------- stranger anyway. He may be the one taking our -------- animals just to scare us into running back to the ------ palace so he can take our ---------- property."
At this point, the man seemed to be winding himself up for some kind of eruption. I was about to jump up on the wagon and save the blacksmith when he countered with an amazingly swift response.
"First of all, Loomis, aren't you the brilliant mind that has my tidal wave of progeny patrolling your farm looking for 'giant bats'? And aren't you the one whats been telling people that they should run for the castle? So, why don't you just sit back down and let our visitor explain how he knows what he claims, and the proper way to protect our selves from your 'giant bats'."
He spat the last words out with unmistakable sarcasm, completely deflating the pitiful man. By the time I could get up beside the blacksmith, 'Loomis' had shriveled into a stump of a man under a barrage of glares. I could barely hold back a smile.
By the time Loomis crawled back out of his hole, I had explained what I had seen, and what I knew. I explained that the dragons were no more dangerous than the wolves that occasionally prowled the area, and that the wolves were probably the ones taking most of the farm animals anyway. I explained that the young dragons are actually very vulnerable and would do their best to hide from the locals unless the locals went out hunting them.
I also cautioned them that if they decided to go dragon hunting they had better be ready for a war, because the dragons could really stir up mischief when angered.
For the most part the locals seemed to take the news well. And although they will probably be pretty jumpy for a few months, I really think they will have little or no trouble from the 'giant bats'.
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