Dragons. They're lean, mean, fighting machines. They'll rip and tear you asunder. They'll scorch your town to the ground. We've all heard the legends.
But as the saying goes, there's a grain of truth in every legend. And the reason why dragons are so violent so often is because of the "root of all evil". Money. Gold. Treasure. The Shiny.
Think back, if you will, to the dreaded war with the Griffons in the Western Mountains. They were unwilling to share even the tiniest bit of gold, and this led to horrific fighting. The blood poured through the streets. And yes, dragons and griffons alike devoured each other.
All over gold. Such a damn shame.
Then something happened that trumped money. Love. Had the Griffon Apsu not fell in love with the Dragoness Tiamat, things might be quite different now. But thanks to that love the capital of Hearthstone was made and dragon kind was able to make itself more respectable. Though when they were first starting out, other nations weren't too keen on trading with the capital, and it isn't hard to see why. I mean, they were dragons. The race had a history of cooking and eating people. Or gobbling up cattle. Or demanding virgin sacrifices, lots of gold, belching out smoke and choking towns nearby out of apathy...
So I asked High Elder Spyrokan just how in Heaven's name had they managed to charm over anybody when the nation's leaders had met at Canterlot for a trade summit. He smiled, dark green eyes glinting as he drank from his solid gold wine cup, and then told me the story.
The air was slightly cool to the touch, everyone whispering huskily amongst each other as High Elder Apsu and High Eldress Tiamat entered the room with their guards and various treasure chests and crates. Apsu was a muscular, powerful looking black-feathered gryphon who had a faint, distinguished grey streak atop his head. His eyes were like blue sapphires as he bowed deeply before Princess Celestia and Luna. It would be quite some time before Luna would become Night Mare Moon and she was still, in her own eyes, an important part of the Pony government. She shook his paw, looking over the tattoos he'd inscribed upon his belly button with surprise.
"How intriguing. A closed circle with tiny letters...what does it say?" She asked of him.
"Oh, it's symbolic of how Tiamat and I, much like all griffons and dragons in Hearthstone, well...came together?"
"I'll show you coming together tonight, peanut." Tiamat giggled. She was quite a lovely-looking sight herself. Rings on her horns, a lovely silver/white body with dazzling scales and a slender form. She had supple, firm breasts that captivated those that looked at them, many species weren't used to seeing breasts, let alone ones of that size, nor ones with a nipple ring. Indeed, Tiamat had quite a few rings on her, from top to bottom. She was practically wearing an entire jewelry store, but even the necklace she wore didn't shine as brightly in the room as her lovely green eyes. "But come, we've so much to talk about."
"Indeed. Every nation, our own included, is eager to learn what your species's combined efforts have wrought. How much of what we've heard of Hearthstone is true?" Celestia inquired as she tilted her head slightly to the side.
"We offer advanced fire magic for trade. Knowledge of the flame and of the magic of the sky. We've discovered a way to create runic tattoos through intense jewel craftsmanship, and have a wide variety of treasure and gold to offer all of you in exchange for goods and services. And lots of meat, naturally." Apsu remarked as he gestured at the stack of chests, various guards they'd brought with them turning their bodies around, showing off tattoos made of glistening, tiny gems that hummed with magic power.
"Well, that's...impressive to be sure." The leader of the Minotaurs, King Minos, remarked as he scratched his beard. "But I'm not so sure we want even all of that given your race's...history. I mean, you'd do raiding parties on us to make barbeque."
"And there's the matter of what happened to our diplomats we tried to send to you for the past fifty years!" Princess Luna mumbled.
"And then there's the matter of what you did with US." The Ophidian leader of the Deep Forest, King Hiss, growled angrily. "OHHH so many times we were mocked on how "snake tastes so much like chicken"! by prisoners we captured-"
"...we also have wyverns." Tiamat interjected.
Everyone immediately stopped what they were muttering and growling and saying, turning as Tiamat whistled, one of the guards who'd been behind the treasure chests and hidden moving out, showing off his serpentine body. He was lean and mean, without hands, though he had a powerful set of legs, and a very powerful set of wings he held close to his deep red form, and he bowed his crested head as they looked upon him.
"Their tongues extend ten feet and they're prehensile."
"Well. When you put it like THAT!" Princess Celestia remarked, all of the other leaders in the room nodding at once. "Welcome to the global community!"
If there's one thing I love about dragons, it's their sick sense of humor. Oh. Almost forgot.
FULL DISCLOSURE: Twilight asked Princess Celestia if this was really what happened. She assured me that wyvern tongues are NINE feet long and prehensile. Then I asked if that was really the final stroke for convincing the other races to let dragons trade with them. She said "no comment", tried to stifle a laugh and failed, and then hung up. Interpret this as you will.
That's better. Can't believe I almost forgot that. But yeah. Dragons have as twisted a sense of humor as they have a passionate desire for sex. In many ways, its even more passionate than their desire for gold. But what do I mean? Well besides that story, High Elder Spyrokan also revealed more of how draconic culture worked when he gave a speech after that football game I told you about earlier. He was speaking of the recent issues with the Ophidians and the Rebel Griffons that don't much care for either snake nor dragon. And this was about three weeks after a very, very unpleasant duty he'd been forced to do.
"You know, many were worried about combat casualties in Hearthstone's Outer Rim. It's a worrying thing to think about, and we were, in many ways, handicapped by the concern over combat casualties." High Elder Spyrokan had said, bowing his head in a slightly dramatic fashion, shaking it a little. "But you'll all be happy to know that since the failed Changeling Invasion of our own city, civilians are now perfectly happy to take combat casualties anywhere in Hearthstone's borders."
The troops there laughed because they knew it was true. Normal civilians had hated fighting with griffons and ophidians. They were quite tired of war. The remnants of the bloody conflict between Griffons and Dragons still lingered even to this day. They didn't like that these rebel griffons and ophidians wanted to kill them over territory, but they were loathe to fight. Then the Changelings tried to sneak into their own city a few weeks ago, and all that changed. Now the civilians were a little less forgiving. At least for now.
Spike was just glad that most of the kids in Hearthstone weren't like "That stupid Crackle and his friends". Indeed, many of the draconic children we met were quite happily getting along with the many Pegasi and Griffons in the capital, and Twilight wanted to know why. So I'll let her explain that aspect of their culture and just how intriguing it really is.
THE FINER POINTS OF DRAGON CULTURE
Dragons and Griffons have High Elders who reign over Hearthstone, and they had quickly put their heads together to come up with a way to ensure there weren't rampaging teenagers running through the streets. And this had to do with Greed, and how it could be tempered.
You see, there's a reason why dragons eat gems and it isn't just because they taste good to the species. Continous and careful devouring of gems and other precious metals and jewels allow dragons to grow. Their muscle mass builds up, their intelligence can increase, their skills are amplified. They get bigger and better, to put it bluntly. This is because their body breaks down the gem into a chemical unique only to dragon kind. The chemical, known as dracotropin, travels through the blood and sets off a sort of slow burn that bit by bit becomes a full on, steady blaze. If there's too much produced at once, it triggers a very unnatural and horrific growth spurt that transforms the dragon in question into a hulking brute of a beast that can barely control himself. Spike had to go through that. It was not a pleasant experience for anyone involved.
This is why taking in treasure should be done bit by bit. Not suddenly and all at once, with precious things heaped upon you in huge doses if you're a dragon. If done right, you'll grow steadily at a fine rate whilst keeping your mental faculties. And as such, Hearthstone instituted policies to make sure that nobody's able to do that. Everyone is registered in the city when they're born, and when a birthday comes around, they make sure the gifts are very nice, but not so nice they'd trigger a toxic cocktail of greed and dracotropin. It's better for everyone that way.
I was surprised by this amount of careful concern and intelligence. And even more surprised at how surprisingly dedicated dragons are to proper lovemaking. I had no idea sex was such a big deal to them. I thought it would be something they'd view as...
Well, you see, there's something of a stereotype we ponies have with dragons. The idea in the back of our minds that they're not really sensitive types. That they're dumb "jocks" of a sort. Domineering and always demanding to be in charge. And if anybody got in their way, woe to them! Yet I was surprised at how they really are when they're alone.
I caught High Elder Spyrokan and Spike talking to each other in the Elder's heated underground pool beneath the palace. I had been on my way to ask him the differences between pony and dragon lovemaking for I assure you purely scientific purposes when I overheard them chatting about the very subject I was going to inquire about.
"So tonight, I finally ask her. I've got it all prepared. A beautiful dinner I roasted myself, and then I put the ring in her champagne goblet." High Elder Spyro remarked, waving his hands slightly in the air before Spike to demonstrate what we wanted.
Spike snorted a bit. "Champagne? Cham-laaaame. That's so overdone. You gotta take it a step further."
"How?"
"Well, I've kind of always had this big thing for a pony, and if I was gonna do it, see, first? I'd get fifty candles." Spike admitted, and I could see a blush coming to his cheeks. "Spread them aaaaall over the room with rose petals. Lots of rose petals."
"Yes, yes, and then?" High Elder Spyro asked.
"You can't forget to also replace the door."
High Elder Spyro snapped his claws. "The door-oh! Of course. Let me guess...pearls. Strings of pearls for her to push open as she slides in and sees what's before her."
Spike eagerly nodded. "Yes, because the room is beautiful, inside and out, just like SHE'S beautiful, inside and out."
"And they'll make the room smell like a fresh meadow on a spring day after the wind's gently kissed it."
"Spike! Spyro! How are you two?" I called out, heading down the hewn-from-natural-rock steps and into the large expanse where the pool lay, standing by the bench nearby where they'd laid down towels. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, nothing! Guy stuff!" Spike said quickly, grinning with a nervous air as High Elder Spyrokan nodded swiftly.
"Yes! Guy stuff. You know. Bitches and hoes."
It's cute how they try to pretend. But I managed to get the High Elder Spyro alone and he told me he was, in fact, about to actually propose to his beloved whom he'd been dating for a year now. And I asked him what it was like, if making love to a Pegasus was different to him than making love to a dragon.
As such, I should explain how their kind "does it". Dragons, according to High Elder Spyro, get very passionate in sex. Their body heat seems to flare up and they inherently craft a kind of protective ring of fire around them when they mate to make sure they're not interrupted or hurt during the act by outside forces. Of course for non-dragons, the ring has to be considerably larger, so it means a dragon has to take extra care, including extra care not to bite or claw during sex.
A male dragon will stimulate the female with gentle massaging of their chest, their behind. They'll give playful nips to their lover's ears or necks, and will lick their cheeks and face. Then they'll move down the chest, and will tickle their lover with their tongue before going down to a woman's most sensitive zone. They'll tease the lower lips softly with careful slurps, taking their time to stimulate their lover before beginning to truly feast between their legs. After being rewarded with multiple orgasms and the delicious juices they give, the male will then easily move his manhood into his lover's waiting pussy lips, sliding smoothly in, for the foreplay has ensured there will be little resistance nor desire to fight back, and that the entrance will be smooth.
In and out, in and out, their rhythm builds, as firm and powerful as the beating of their heart. They'll often continue massaging their lover's chest or will keep nibbling on them slightly. If their lover is up for rougher treatment, they'll bite their neck slightly, or take their breasts into their jaws and give them a playful chew, or will claw at their back a bit. The male dragon then picks up the pace, thrusting more powerfully, letting out a mighty roar as his seed breaks free from its fleshy prison to flow into the waiting womb of his lover. Unlike the dragon's body, the seed is cool and calming, a welcome relief and release that is a pleasure for both parties to enjoy. And depending on the lover, the dragon can continue pumping seed into them for hours. High Elder Spyrokan has admitted he absolutely loves ponies. They're the next best thing after dragons, their bodies soft to the touch and ample receptacles for dragon cocks.
A female dragon will often want to be on top, and will happily ride their male lover quite firmly, kissing him deeply, licking his neck, letting him massage her breasts, She will thrust herself up and down, up and down on his manhood, clawing at his shoulders sometimes if she's not careful, making him release into her. She will howl to the skies, a passionate roar, eagerly breeding with her lover and milking his manhood for all its worth before tucking him close to her, nuzzling up against his body. She will lick at him, wings draping over her beloved as she strokes him tenderly, the two lying in a kind of sex coma as, just like with the males, the ring of fire around them slowly vanishes.
But then comes the part that made me a little nervous to hear about. For you see, after they've made love, a dragon's natural desire to protect his new mate will rise up. A need to keep them safe until they're ready to give birth or to keep them from being used again by a would-be interloper, for this was common in the old days before dragon kind became more civilized. To make sure their beloved couldn't be taken from them until they were safely back in their own territory, a dragon would swallow up their lover and tuck them away in their belly. Normal dragons could endure being in there for quite some time, up to a week due to their scales. But other races wouldn't last that long. As such, I asked High Elder Spyro how they handled this.
Luckily he informed me that dragons had developed an almost complete and total control over their stomach, which meant they could hold off digestion of anything in it for days. I was impressed, as was Nee-Buh-Loh. It was much like her own race and how they operated. Though I wanted to know for sure if this was really true. I mean, we were doing a close study of dragon kind for the book, and we need to let other races know if this sort of thing was true. Dispel some myths and all that.
So I asked High Elder Spyrokan if he could assist me with this, and, well...eat me. To prove that he could hold me in his stomach without actually hurting me. But he said Spike should do it, that it would be good practice for him, something he'd have to learn sooner rather than later. After all, he was growing up. He needed to learn this skill, to learn how to control himself inside and out. Spike was rather surprised by this, but I told him that I trusted him completely, and I'd even cast a protective shield spell on myself juuuuust in case things went south.
He then agreed to it, if he was sure this was what I wanted, and carefully took my head in his clawed hands, his mouth opening wider and wider. He pushed his maw onto me, covering the rest of my face, and gulped hard. His tongue licked at me a little before gulping even harder, my shoulders into his still widening maw, as he held my arms to the side. He continued his swallowing, reaching to my chest, my arms now incapacitated as he began to lick at my chest, murring in delight. He must have found me very delicious. He gave another gulp as I was forced down into a warm, wet, pulsating tunnel, my stomach being sucked in, then my hips. He gulped harshly, pulling even more of me in. Only my knees were outside of his mouth now, allowing Spike to just lean back and let gravity do most of the work as my calves were next to vanish into his jaws, then my ankles, then my hooves. I could hear him sigh in a satisfied fashion, feel him rubbing his now immensely distended stomach as I curled up in a large, fleshy chamber which was slightly soft and wet to the touch, massaged on all sides by walls of flesh, a slight pool of stomach juices beneath me.
"Now then. Feel your stomach muscles. Hold back the need to clench, take deep breaths, and concentrate." I heard High Elder Spyro announce from outside of Spike as I heard him grunt and cringe before the pool drained away beneath me, and it became considerably less wet and much more pleasant inside me, Spike letting out a sigh as he sat down.
"HOO. That felt like getting a splinter out of me."
"It is challenging, but with time you'll barely need to focus at all to do it."
"You okay in there, Twilight? Please tell me you're alright?" Spike asked, patting his stomach as I gently patted back.
"I'm fine." I insisted to him with my own internal sigh of relief. Phew. It had worked out just like I'd hoped. That could have gone very, VERY badly.
Then I felt Nee poking me from outside. "So THAT'S what I look like after I eat. No wonder Pinkie Pie likes to poke me so much."
"HUNTRESS!" I yelled out.
HEARTHSTONE'S HEAD JOURNALIST IS A PSYCHO
You must think that title is pretty shocking. "Psycho"? What, does she eat people alive? Does she flay them? Is she a child rapist or something?
No. See, the thing is, monstrous behavior like that, at least there's a degree of honesty to the crueler dragons. They don't hide what they are. They do what they do and they don't apologize or hide behind institutional credibility.
But the Hearthstone Herald is different. It's the biggest newspaper in the city, gets flown out even to Canterlot, and is quickly picking up circulation in other cities. It prides itself on hard-hitting journalism and being fairminded.
So why in the holy bucking SHIT is their head journalist that monster Coal?
Coal is a jet-black dragon, his eyes fiercely golden and his claws like daggers. He's well-built, clever and intelligent. He's done hundreds of pieces for the Herald and has no criminal record. But he shouldn't be a journalist. He's a lunatic. And I would know. Because he and I are friends.
I didn't know this fact until I read the Hearthstone Herald the day after we arrived. I picked up the morning edition and saw that Coal had a profile done on him since he was getting an award for his journalism efforts. And to establish himself as just a lovable guy around town, he said he was "friendly with the lovely Ms. Nee-Buh-Loh".
I found that quite odd, cuz I had only met him once before this, when we were investigating the Eastern Griffon forced prostitution scandal I'd written about before. He'd been in Blue Ecstasy visiting Yuan-Ti to compare sources on a story, and when he introduced himself to me, I made a terrible, terrible mistake.
I was cordial. For, like, five minutes. Instead of saying "You're horrible! I HATE you!"
In my defense, I hadn't quite learned what I now know about him, but even then I'd thought something was seriously off with him. It was just a hunch, but my hunch paid off. You see I got the chance to read his latest book: "Libel: The Awful Lies of the Right Wing", and I knew something was wrong. His central premise was that right wing politicians and media personalities use shrill accusations and insults and the like to poison political discourse in Equestria and keep people from coming together and actually getting things done that will help us all. I admit, the political discourse is pretty bad at times. But his book was such a fascinating exercise in blatant hypocrisy, dishonesty and irony that whatever point he had was positively destroyed.
Let me get to some examples. And I'll start not at the beginning, but the end of his book. After, say, about 34 pages of accusing right wingers of being elitist snobs who pretend others don't care about the poorest and those who have the least among us when they're the biggest takers of all, he trots out this piece of "evidence". And I use quotation marks because using anything else would be an insult to the concept of proof itself.
"The day after seven-time ex-Wonderbolt champion-turned country/pop music star Super Swift died in a tragic accident at a concert, almost every newspaper in Equestria carried the story on the front page. Swift had been one of the fastest-growing pop stars on the scene with songs such as "Sixteen", "Love Story" and "Blank Flank". Indeed, more Americans recognize the name Super Swift than, say, Prince Mishra of Saddle Arabia, who pioneered engineering and gave us Equestria's highest skyscrapers. (Manehattan conservatives are dumbly blinking at that last sentence, probably thinking all Saddle Arabians live in mud igloos.) But it took conservative paper the Manehattan Post two days to deem Swift's death sufficiently important to mention it on the first page. Demonstrating the right's renowned populist touch, the article began, "His death brought a silence to the Wal-Mare." The Post went on to report that in vast swaths of the country people enjoyed Swift's music. So tacky people were mourning Super Swift all over the South!"
Wow. That...that is pretty powerful. Pretty insulting. Mocking the death of a beloved icon and implying all her fans are stupid country hicks? That's pretty damn disgusting. And to do that two days after he died? Not even give her death a mention one day after? That's low.
But the thing is, Super Swift died on February 19 earlier this year. And on February 20th, which, by my count, is the very next day, the Post did, in fact, air a front page account of Swift's death under the headline "Swift's Struck Onstage", detailing how a railing above the stage she'd performed at had collapsed on top of her, crushing her to death. It had been a real tragedy and the Post had not spared any of the gory details to make you understand how senseless her demise had been.
Frankly, I think the fact they put a front page article up on the very next day after Ms. Swift died undercuts Coal's point that they did. I mean if they hadn't done it, it would have been something, huh? But they did.
And what of that article I quoted? Well, it was indeed written two days after she died. An opinion piece by Rick Fragg, a former army colonel turned editor for the Post, from Ponymont in the East. Twilight hates Ponymont. People are always bragging about it. "Oh, Ponymont has the best this, Ponymont has the best that". Well buck you, Ponymont! The good news is that he had to resign from the Post after an uncredited team was used to research a story on dragons here in Hearthstone. He didn't pay them AND he got the story wrong. Rick Fragg. The pride, and then subsequent shame, of Ponymont.
But let's get back to Coal. Even if you want to give Coal credit for pointing out how vicious and meanspirited right wingers can be, and believe me, I know, I've had to listen to Chatter Box, Coal's statements make me question how fair and balanced he really is.
Statements like...
"Conservatives hate Equestria."
"Conservatives hate all belief systems except the worship of money."
"Right Wingers actually hate working-class people."
"Conservatives hate society."
"Even Changelings don't hate Equestria like Conservatives do."
"Right Wingers ...will destroy anyone who stands in their way. All that matters to them is
power."
"Conservatives can't just come out and say they want to take more of your money, kill minorities,
and discriminate on the basis of race."
"Conservatives seek to stomp out any kind of dissent on their views on nature because they're biogts who don't understand science."
"That's the whole point of being a Conservative: to feel superior to people with less money."
"Conservatives are crazy."
For those unaware, the very...first...line of his book is "Political debate in this country is completely insufferable, it resembles professional wrestling more than actual debate."
And the thing is, Coal doesn't even make a case for any liberal issue. He doesn't talk about medicine. Doesn't talk about changeling rights or taxes. Doesn't talk one iota about the economy or how to handle diplomatic relations or anything like that. The entire book is filled with distortions, factual errors, and outright HORSESHIT.
Let me bring up one such example yet again. This is actually about Twilight-FHLKASLJAWFLJHSDNLKAFAWLKFJ
Oh no! OH no. I'M taking this one.
On page 12 of his book, that...that rotten FINK Coal had the nerve to say this!
"After what occurred in Canterlot with the statue, the Post's editorial page responded with an editorial on Twilight Sparkle titled, "The Youngest, Stupidest Justice." That was actually the head-line on a lead editorial in the Newspaper of Record. Twilight is not engaged on the substance of her reign nor her real decisions. She is called a "stupid horned lawn jockey for those Canterlot elitists and their interests," a "race traitor," "snake in the grass," a "alicorn idiot," "pretty tropy princess to trot out and say a lot without saying anything" and "horned moron," A "Benedict Marold" and "Traitor" for agreeing to let Changelings have property rights in Ponyville. And all this from the tireless opponents of intolerance."
Coal...was using me as a way to attack conservatives for being meanspirited. And you want to know the worst part? The Post didn't say that! I went to the back of his book. He's always claiming "its in the footnotes".
One, he has no footnotes. He has endnotes. Footnotes are at the bottom or "foot" of the page and are easy to check. Endnotes, notsomuch.
Two, his "endnotes" revealed that those quotes you heard came from a Canterlot Leadership Convention and a few interviews with people on the street!
The key is that sleight of hoof. "Newspaper of Record. Twilight is not engaged", which then leads gullible readers into the inevitable conclusion that the Manehattan Post called me a "Stupid horned lawn jockey". This should tell us a couple things about the dragon known as Coal. First, he is shamelessly dishonest. No surprise there. But more importantly, it shows the contempt he holds for his own readers.
I'd like to say a pony would never, ever resort to this kind of dishonest nonsense. But I've heard Chatter Box's show. Alas. I can't make that claim.
Next time, Rarity and Pinkie Pie are going to be here to talk about their fascinating trip to Labrynthia, the Homeland of the Minotaurs in the South. They're excellent craftsmen almost utterly without equal!
...if only their justice system wasn't so disturbingly harsh. I mean, five lashes for stealing? Makes what Celestia swore to do to Chrysalis if she got out of hand seem mild by comparison. And Celestia's promised she'd turn "Chrissy" into a toad.
Still, the tales can't be as bad as we've heard.
...can they?