Sir Epidus couldn’t help but focus on the incredible heat of the dragon’s fire breath as it enveloped him. Sure, it wasn’t too bad, with his armor being enchanted and all. Of course, he wouldn’t be burned alive, but still, the heat was uncomfortable.
Glancing up he could just see the starry sky through the licking flames. He wondered how long he would have to sit before his sword felt like being useful.
When the flames were gone he looked down at the monstrous claws of the dragon on his chest, pressing him into the charred brickwork of the castle wall. Sir Epidus could hear the wall giving way under the force of the dragon’s brutal strength. Even under this intensity the magic armor gave no sign of weakness.
Sir Epidus felt his hand close around his enchanted sword. “Finally!” he thought. The sword swung itself around, cleaving into the dragon’s claw at the wrist.
“Yeah!” Sir Epidus cheered with pride at this amazing move. The dragon yowled in pain, grabbing its wrist. Sir Epidus had to admit, however, that credit for the move really belonged to the enchanted sword.
His sword tended to handle all of the fighting itself. Also, seeming to have a flair for theatrics, it always leaped from his hand, pretending to be knocked away, returning just in time for the utmost dramatic effect.
Sir Epidus also couldn’t help but appreciate the skillful way that his armor was running up the dragon’s tail towards its head. He was, once again, forced to acknowledge that this was the armor’s impressive feat and not his own.
In fact, as the sword drove down into the beast’s skull he began to feel a tad numb to the excitement around him. And as his suit performed an unparalleled feat of acrobatics, flipping from atop the head of the collapsing beast, Sir Epidus became distracted by his memories of days long past.
There was a time when he was starting out that he would have charged into fight any fearsome beast with only his non-magical sword, iron sheet shield, and expendable horse to aid him.
He was good though, and as he won more and more battles he gained more and more magical doodads. These doodads soon made the likelihood of death an impossibility, despite fighting hordes of demons or other creatures of unimaginable horror.
What was the point anymore, he thought as his suit climbed over the fifty foot walls surrounding the cursed castle.
While he stood on his shield, sliding across a sea of poisonous thorn bushes he began to feel a little tired and even considered taking a nap. He found himself similarly uninterested when the poisonous bushes began firing their poisonous thorns, only to be deftly deflected by his magical blade.
Sir Epidus didn’t even flinch as one dart shattered apart, sending poisonous splinters into his visor. The splinters burned away when they hit the magical barrier that protected his eyes.
Finally, as he appeared to be racing triumphantly up the spiral stairs that lead to the tallest tower, his eyelids began to droop sleepily.
And when the locked wooden door at the top of stairs exploded from the armor’s powerful kick, Sir Epidus woke up. He looked into the room and felt the sword and the armor droop; they were exhausted. Once again able to control his own movement, Sir Epidus removed his helm.
The sun’s rays seemed brighter in here than they had been outside. Light sparkled off of the incredibly beautiful princess that slept on the snow white bed.
Those old feelings of excitement began pumping through his veins and he dropped his sword and unclasped his gauntlets. How could he have forgotten this part, he thought as he unclasped his chest plate. As wonderful as the sword and armor were, he knew that there were at least a couple of things that required his skill.
He observed the princess for only a moment before gently leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. Then he leaned back, sat down on the bed, and watched. Her eyes blinked and then opened, her lips slowly forming into a beauteous smile. The blue of her eyes reminded Sir Epidus of a golden summer day.
She reached out and grabbed him, pulling him down upon her she kissed him deeply, passionately.
This was it, he thought; this was why he did all of that boring work, day in and day out sitting inside of that blasted armor. As he kissed her, he realized he was thinking too much.
His sword, shield, and armor lay satisfied in the entryway of the tower cuddling with the silky nightgown that had so long slept on the princess. The armor reveled in the pleasurable sensations that were its reward for a job well done; even though it loved that job almost as much as what it was now doing with the enchanted nightgown.
There was a chance that there might be some new magical doodads about nine months from now.
