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    A Doctor to Dragons
    A Doctor to Dragons
    A Doctor to Dragons
    Ebook50 pages41 minutes

    A Doctor to Dragons

    By G. Scott Huggins

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    About this ebook

    The Dark Lord's favorite dragon is constipated. Dr. James DeGrande, veterinarian and orc-slayer, is going to have to deal with it.

    This one could get messy.

    Everyone says it was better in the Good Old Days. Before the Dark Lord covered the land in His Second Darkness.

    As far as I can tell, it wasn't that much better. Even then, everyone cheered the heroes who rode unicorns into combat against dragons, but no one ever remembered who treated the unicorns' phosphine burns afterward. Of course, that was when dragons were something to be killed. Today I have to save one. Know what fewmets are? No? Then make a sacrifice of thanks right now to whatever gods you worship, because today I have to figure a way to get them flowing back out of the Dark Lord's favorite dragon. Yeah, from the other end. And that's just my most illustrious client. I've got orcs and trolls who might eat me and dark elf barons who might sue me if their bloodhawks and chimeras don't pull through. And that doesn't even consider the possibility that the old bag with the basilisk might show up.

    The only thing that's gone right this evening is finding Harriet to be my veterinary assistant. She's almost a witch, which just might save us both. If we don't get each other killed first.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSuperversive Press
    Release dateApr 25, 2017
    ISBN9781925645002
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      Book preview

      A Doctor to Dragons - G. Scott Huggins

      A DOCTOR TO DRAGONS

      G. SCOTT HUGGINS

      © 2017 Superversive Press

      Ebook Design by Ben Zwycky and Jason Rennie

      Cover Design by Rebekah Hale

      Edited by Ben Zwycky and Jason Rennie

      www.superversivepress.com

      ISBN: 978-1-925645-00-2

      Dedication

      To my lovely wife, Dr. Katie Huggins, DVM, without whom this volume would not have been possible. And in tribute to Dr. James Harriot and Dr. Temple Grandin, who made the world a wonderful place for animals, their owners, and readers alike.

      PART I: PROPERLY VETTED

      When I was an apprentice, my master told me drinking wouldn’t solve my problems. Of course, when he said it he’d just finished sleeping off a two-day binge. While a good enough mentor, old Arghash just wasn’t imaginative enough to see why he was wrong about that. So I sat at a corner table of the Endless Gullet, waiting for drinking to solve my problem. But tonight, of all nights, the drinkers just weren’t cooperating. Annoyed, I took a sip of my bad rum and let most of it run down my shirt.

      What Arghash, like most people, never grasped about drinking solving his problems was that it’s other people’s drinking that solves them. Why is that so hard to grasp? It works for bartenders all over the world.

      But tonight, the mean drunks were too sober, and the quiet drunks were too drunk. The well-juiced Death Knights at the center table seemed the best bet, but tonight they were all huddled together, growling away about whatever pisses off Death Knights – which is everything. Then the tavern wench limped up to them, bent awkwardly beneath the cracked platter holding twenty quarts of ale. She’d relieved herself of half of them before it all went to hell.

      You DARE! The bellow cut through even the liquid crash of a dozen tankards slamming against the wall. The girl was down, and a Death Knight was up. He was bald, toothy, drunk, and had a nasty cut on his ear, but it was old, so I knew she hadn’t done it. Get up, cripple tavern-whore and clean up this mess! Then get your pimp-master out here to serve Zorag Bloodlord better drink. With his own hands, so that Zorag’s eyes will not be fouled by your ugliness!

      The girl picked herself up, violet eyes burning. For a second, I thought she was cowering, but then I saw how her back was twisted in a sharp left S-curve. I hadn’t noticed when she was carrying her tray because she’d placed it on her right shoulder and arm. The hunchbacked girl glared silently up at Zorag’s big, ugly face, her head practically on her left shoulder, arms dangling like a goblin’s, and no taller than my chest. He raised his hand for another blow.

      Why did I intervene? I don’t know. I’m not big on that All humans are one human in the Empire of Dread bit. People make their own way, here. Maybe I didn’t want the work of doctoring my own species. Zorag fit in with my plans nicely enough, okay? I splashed the rest of the rum down my front and stood up, pulling my collar up high and angling my blade away from the orc.

      Oh, well done! I cried, into the silence. But do you think it’s enough?All eyes swiveled toward me. One pair of violet in the

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