“Foul dragon,” declared the knight, “I am here to vanquish you!” His armor shone dully in the light of the sunrise pouring in from the mouth of the cave. He pointed with a sword most dramatically.
The dragon stirred and yawned. “What you packin’?” he asked in the strange dialect he was rumored to have.
The knight held his sword aloft. “This is the legendary sword Daldring, delivered into my hands by fate! It has sent evil fleeing in all corners of the world!”
“Oh, I see,” the dragon said. He reached behind a rock and pointed something small at the knight, delicately placing one claw on the trigger. “This is a gun,” he said.
“Hold on, wait.”
“It has armor piercing capabilities. It can smite evil too.” The dragon used a different claw to cock the weapon, making a distant click. “Now hold still so I don’t spoil your armor. That looks valuable.”
The knight scrambled for the exit, all dignity forgotten.
The dragon sat back and laughed. “And the world doesn’t have corners!” he yelled after the fleeing knight.