The Greedy Killer
Dallen wipes the perspiration from his forehead with his sleeve. It was boiling outside and in. He brought his tankard toward his lips, and he held in a gasp. Something green was in his drink.
"Is this a joke?" he muttered, and a frog popped its head out of the liquid with a burp.
"Awaken the greedy killer. Crops will wither unless you do this before the working week is finished."
And Dallen believed it.
He thought he knew who the frog may have spoken of, but he did not have much time.
Dallen packed some of his few belongings into a rough knapsack, and began to trek into the mountains, in search of the Dragon of the North.
There was a cave that was much larger than it appeared, and was home to the very dragon he was searching for.
"I am not, though I may have an idea."
Dallen stayed the night and left at dawn, in search of his friends suggestion.
"Not me," the troll rumbled, and the Gargoyle the next day.
Dallen was distraught. He had failed.
"I'm awake!" a small imp cried, rubbing its eyes to awake.
"Sorry to disturb you. I am was searching for someone."
"I am he, The Greedy Killer. I kill the bugs who make plants wither. They also make a delicious dinner!"
Dallen smiled, and took The Greedy Killer back to the farms, where the imp feasted until the winter came, when it returned to sleep until the next year.