Long, long ago, in a kingdom far, far away, the good people there suffered from a terrible problem.

It seemed that a dragon had taken up residence within the mountainous regions surrounding their pleasant valley home, and begun to do what dragons did best; devouring their livestock and attacking the major trade routes, burning their tiny homes with its fiery breath and occasionally stealing away the fair damsel.

A cry went up from the people, “Rid us of this beast!” they said, “Send us a hero!” they shouted. And the king of this once fair and happy kingdom stroked his long beard, thinking long and thinking deep upon this dreadful matter.

“My kingdom faces an age of peril and terror,” he lamented, “and all my armies and all my sorcerers are as pebbles thrown into a maelstrom against it.

“Yet still I beseech for any hero to step forth and rid us of our plight. That they may come from both far and wide, that they hail as noblest knight or as lowliest peasant, and that any with the courage to do in this foul monster come forth and be our saviour.”

Then, with the promise of vast riches and glory echoing in their ears, many stepped forth, boasting of their pride and valour. And eagerly they would set out and clamour up the mountain side to venture deep into the dragon's cave… never to be seen again.

“Ha! A dragon? Is that all you're worried about?” scoffed the wild woman, Rorana the Troll Slayer. She grinned fiercely at her audience and hefted the battle axe over her shoulder with hardly an effort, “I'll be back before dark, so I expect a feast of epic proportions!”

With her raucous laughter trailing behind her, Rorana flung a brief wave over her shoulder and left the bewildered peasants to travel up along the very route to the mountain that had since swallowed up so many other arrogant men and women.

With not a mote of fear within her, Rorana dug into the rock and hefted herself up. The lost travellers that had come this way before her, had generously provided a worn path to follow, “Ha!” she barked contemptuously, “Miserable whelps, where you all failed, I'll triumph!”

She grunted as rock crumbled under foot and pieces descended the harrowing distance down to the valley floor. Cold winds buffeted against her form, seeking to thrust her from the mountainside, but gritting her teeth she snarled and grinned, “I won't be turned back that easily!”

Rorana cursed the chill, and began to recount her previous successes and victories to the insufferable wind, “The Swamp of the Cyclops, oh that was a good day. Or how about that time in Great Pillagers' Cavern, where the undead reach up by the thousands from the ground to pull you under? Ha! And a dragon's all they got? Pure child's play!”

With a final great stretch of her body, Rorana heaved herself up onto the stone ledge, where before her yawned the mouth of the dragon's cave. Panting, she took only a scant moment's rest before presenting herself square before the gaping darkness, great axe in hand and at the ready, “Dragon!” she bellowed, her voice reverberating against the mountain, “I have come to claim your head! Come out and fight me, dragon!”

The wind howled around her, but only silence came from the darkness. Growling softly with impatience, Rorana began to slowly stalk forward into the black. While her eyes flickered about to catch sight of any tiny hint of movement, her nose became aware of a strange scent.

Tantalizing and exquisite, Rorana took in another deep breath and found her mouth beginning to water and her stomach tighten with anticipation.

The cave's entrance curved gradually and moments later light seemed to blossom before the warrior, revealing a vast and rocky chamber illuminated by torchlight flickering and rebounding off a mammoth cache of golden treasures.

However, though the horde was impressive, what truly drew Rorana's eye then was the banquet splayed out within the middle of the cavern. It appeared as the sort of feast she expected kings to enjoy in their fine halls, and was deemed terribly out of place within the heart of a dragon's den.

Again her eyes travelled about the room, seeking some sign of the scaly predator, and again the effort proved fruitless. She found herself drawing closer to the long table upon which the sumptuous feast had been set.

The smells of an exceptional series of meals filled her senses, and licking her wet lips, Rorana lowered her axe carefully. She reached out a hand and crudely swept her finger through the thick gravy coating of what looked and smelt like a sizeable roast beef. Without a second thought to her actions, she popped the covered digit into her mouth.

A mere second later a groan of utter delight left her, and she felt for a moment as if she would swoon. Never had she sampled such flavour, such richness, such skilful use of spices.

A hasty decision was then made, and Rorana looked over to the dark entrance, where distantly she should hear the wail of the winds. Surely the dragon wouldn't be back for some time, she mused. It had been such a long climb up the mountain, so taking a little of this fine food to help regain her strength seemed only right.

Without further ado, Rorana set aside her axe in favour of arming herself with a fork and spearing the roast beef in front of her. Sinking her teeth barbarically into the meat, she let her eyes roll back as the flavours danced across her tongue anew.

Gone in what seemed like seconds, Rorana shoved aside the empty platter to reach out for a bowlful of mashed potatoes and another full of glazed vegetables. She drowned both with an entire carafe of gravy and as she shoved forkful after forkful down her throat, she spied a bottle of wine close at hand.

Uncorking the bottle crudely with her own teeth, she pointed the tapered neck to the ceiling; “To my glorious defeat of the dragon cur!” she cheered and laughed haphazardly before tipping her head back and downing the potent drink.

“Mn, that bird looks pretty good,” Rorana muttered to herself as she wiped spilled wine from her chin with the back of her hand. She cast a single glance back to the entrance, saw that no dragon was peering down at her, and shuffled round the long table towards the herb roasted quail she'd been admiring.

Soon, a soft moan crept up from Rorana as she brutally gnawed on a stripped quail bone and leaned against the table with one hand to support her, while the other rubbed gently along her stomach. “Maybe that's enough,” she said, spitting out the remnants of bone to the floor. Her stomach had begun to feel tight and a little cramped inside, telling her clearly that it had had enough, “but gods does that boar smell delicious.”

As the day wore on, Rorana gave up the pretence of checking the entrance for signs of a certain dragon returning home, and had her precious axe sit propped against the far side of the table, abandoned.

Having found a nice flat rock to settle herself upon, Rorana had then been able to sit and eat without the bothersome preamble of taking herself around the table to get to the next delectable entr�e. Now, all she need do was give the dining cloth a good tug and the food would simply come to her.

“Ah, this is the life,” she murmured thickly, her mind in a wine and glutton induced haze. All around her lay the victims of this battle; bare plates and bowls, ravaged bones, and empty bottles.

A hiccup sent a jolt through her rounded form and she frowned down at herself, seeming to just then realize how large she had become. “When did you get so big?” she asked her stomach, giving it a sharp poke. Her finger merely sank into the soft, but unyielding flesh, and all Rorana received for answer was the gentle gurgles of her own digestion.

“Oh, this isn't good at all,” she told herself, rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

“I do believe that that is a matter of opinion,” spoke a sweet, honeyed voice that even with its mild tone had filled the cavern in a near thunderous manner.

Rorana's eyes grew large and even before the cavern began to shake she knew that the dragon had finally decided to put in an appearance. Grunting with the futile effort to pull herself up, she gazed forlornly across the chamber to where her axe had since fallen to the floor.

The rock beneath Rorana began to quake and with a yelp, she found herself tumbled backwards and trapped beneath the weight of her own rotund form. In horror, she watched as the rock rose up from the floor with her still lying atop it. Then, its shape grew less rigid and it seemed to kindly shift into a sloped form so that Rorana could sit up… and come face to face with the dragon.

Golden coins slid from the dragon's impressive head, and Rorana gulped, caught with the realization that the dragon had been here all this time, hidden within the pretty horde and that she had foolishly come to sit upon the beast's tail. And there, became so enthralled with the sweet trap that she had utterly immobilized herself.

“Mmm, you do look like a tasty one,” the dragon purred, and great jewelled eyes skimmed over the ravished table, “Ate more than most it seems. Hmm, you might be a bit hard to swallow because of it…”

Rorana could do nothing but sit there, her hands upon the sides of her great rounded belly, “You… you could put off eating me for a bit. W-wouldn't want to choke or anything, right?” she tried for a smile, but it was weak and full of panic.

The dragon's smile in return was quite a bit more sincere, if not all the more frightening for all the teeth it displayed, “Oh no need to worry about me, dearest morsel. Now, down you go!” the dragon cheered, that smile gaping wide.

“W-wait! I--!” but the dragon would so no such thing, and using the end of its tail like a spoon, poured the fat little warrior woman into its mouth.

The bulge Rorana made took a moment to slide down the dragon's long throat, and the beast had to try a time or two to flex those keen muscles within to push her down. When at last she had disappeared, the dragon beamed and purred happily at the new weight settled within its stomach. “Mm, see, nothing to worry about.”

With a wide yawn, the dragon turned to its mountain of gold and settled down atop it. Extending a claw, it cast a spell over the table to have it reset and ready to serve another lucky warrior their final meal.