Count Tregor the Stout was having quite a pleasant morning. He'd had a very nice breakfast and was now hovering about the great hall, signing semi-important papers and sipping his fancy coffee. There'd been no petitions to bother with so far today, and that was just how Tregor liked it. Despite living in a rather harsh area of Chane, he had his castle, his fairly content and obedient populace, little official work to do, and plenty of creature comforts to go around.
“Excuse me sir,” said the butler apologetically, as he cracked the door open.
“What is it, Numnir?” Tregor asked pleasantly as he twirled his mustache.
“It's the miners – they're here to see you.”
“Which miners?”
“Well, all of them, sir.”
“Oh dear,” said Tregor. The miners were his most rambunctious and uncouth subjects. He got up on his fancy chair and arranged his robes. “Very well, let them in, Numnir, but see to it they wipe their feet this time!”
“Of course, sir.” Numnir bowed out.
Tregor suddenly heard the dong, dong, dong of the town's great bell tower. As the guard had predicted, this perturbed him immensely.
“What is the meaning of this foray, gentlemen?” he grumbled as the miners burst into the room. They had not wiped their feet.
“Milord, we've seen a dragon on the mountain,” said the foreman.
“A dragon?” said Tregor. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, milord,” said the foreman. “We took the liberty of sounding the alarm, to protect the flocks.”
“You did well,” said Tregor, softening a little. He preferred to keep all the mutton to himself, and not share it with an enormous lizard, thank you very much. “Did the dragon notice you?”
“No, milord, we weren't seen or followed. But now that he's moved in, it's only a matter of time before he comes to see the city.”
“Dear me,” said Tregor. “Well now...” (He was always at a loss in stressful situations.) “...I suppose we'll have to have an assembly and talk this over with the castle guardsmen. Thank you, good sirs. Since the mountain is temporarily off-limits, I suppose you get the rest of the day off. Dismissed.”
The miners cheered and stampeded out – to the nearest pub, no doubt. Tregor sighed.
“How inconsiderate,” he grunted. “What's so appealing about Mount Rapuzia, that he's got to settle down here?”