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A Bedtime Story for The Young Prince

DaddyBear the Minivandian kissed his son, the Young Prince, good night.  It had been a long day of caring for his steeds and making repairs to his castle.  The recent attacks by trolls had caused many of the plates that lined the outer walls to slip, and he had gone out in the wind and the damp to make what repairs he could.

“Good night, my son.” he rumbled as he pulled the covers up for the boy.

“Father, would you read to me tonight?  I wish to hear tales of high adventure.” asked the Young Prince.

“But of course, my cub.  What would you like to hear?”

“I want to hear the tale of Herbert the Horrendous and the Big Red Dragon!” said the Young Prince.

The Minivandian went to the cupboard of scrolls and selected the correct one.  Sitting on the edge of the bed, he unrolled it and began to read.

Herbert the Horrendous and the Big Red Dragon

Twas brillig, as Herbert the Horrendous left his castle in search of treasure.


He searched high and low.


He searched the cathedral, but all of its treasure was already gone.

He searched the village, but all of the villagers ran away.

He searched the fields, but all of the farmers just watched as he tried to talk to the cow.


Suddenly, Herbert the Horrendous had a brilliant idea!

He would search the mountains, looking for the lair of a dragon.

“Dragons always have treasure!” he thought to himself.


He searched the tall mountains, and the deep valleys.

He searched the dank caves and the dry slopes.

But no dragons were to be found.


Herbert the Horrendous was tired and sad that he could not find treasure!

He began the long walk back to his castle.


Suddenly, he heard the flapping of big, leathery wings!

A dragon, a big red dragon, was swooping down to its lair at the base of the biggest mountain in the land!

Herbert the Horrendous hurried to the mountain.


As he got closer, he could smell the dragon’s stink,

He could feel the dragon’s hot breath,

And he could hear the dragon’s snoring.


Herbert the Horrendous crept up as quietly as a mouse to see the dragon and his treasure.

That old dragon was asleep on his bed of gold and jewels.

Puffs of steam and smoke came out of his nose as he snored away.


Herbert the Horrendous raised up his mighty sword and shouted

“Awake, foul beast!  I, Herbert the Horrendous, am here to take your treasure as my own!”


The dragon awoke with a start, and flew up in the air.


It used its smell to try to stun Herbert the Horrendous.

It used its hot breath to try to cook Herbert the Horrendous.

It even used its mighty roar to try to scare Herbert the Horrendous.


But none of these things worked.


Herbert the Horrendous jumped up onto a tall rock.

As the dragon flew past him, he jumped out upon its back, grabbed the dragon’s wings, and pulled with all his might!

The big red dragon fell from the sky, landing back on its pile of treasure.


“You win!” roared the big red dragon, “Take the treasure, but leave me with enough to make another nest!”

Herbert the Horrendous let go of the dragon’s wings.

He let the dragon go, and let it take along 20 gold pieces, 20 silver pieces, and 20 pretty jewels to start its new nest.


Herbert the Horrendous put the rest of the treasure in his bag of holding, and journeyed back to his castle.

He was celebrated as a great warrior for defeating the big red dragon and for bringing home so much treasure.

He spent the rest of his days telling tales of adventure and glory, and he never had to go out looking for treasure again.


My lord DaddyBear looked up from the scroll at his son, who had fallen asleep with a smile on his impish countenance.  Leaning forward, the Minivandian kissed the young barbarian good night, rolled up the scroll, replaced it in the cupboard, and left the chamber.  Many good dreams of battle and fire breathing dragons did the Young Prince have that night.

Many years later, when the Young Prince was a warrior of great fame and power, the Minivandian would look back fondly on the evenings when he was still small enough to listen to bedtime stories.  Many books of adventure, many sagas of poetry and heroics, many magical tales of the little people and their games did the Young Prince listen to as he drifted off.  And then, when he himself was a father, did he read these very same scrolls to his children, sometimes with the help of the Minivandian, his hair grown white and his eyes grown tired.  So did the cycle of noble parenting continue, and so did the next generation of warriors learn their place as defenders and adventurers.

Now, let me tell you tales of high adventure…..


  1. Nicely done DB!


  2. Frank

     /  March 4, 2013

    Where’s the like button, DB?
    Nicely done.


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