Willum and Brash meet suddenly.
Willum was standing on a tottery stool and reaching up as high as he could. Being both vertically and horizontally challenged, this was quite an effort. He finally got his fingertips on the edge of a box that sat on the shelf above his fireplace.
He watched it tumble onto the floor. It broke open and the sound of coins rang out. Getting down as fast as he could (which was not fast at all), the short, round man frantically began to gather them up.
Almost immediately, the whole hovel shook as something heavy landed on top of it with a mighty thump.
“What was that?” Willum cried, as most of the coins he managed to pick up slipped from his hands.
A loud thumping rattled his door. Willum swept the coins under his bed with a broom, then went to open it.
“I heard chinking!” his visitor bellowed. Willum’s heart sank.
“Oh, Mr. Brash! You are mistaken!”
Brash, the local dragon, poked his head and neck through the door and sniffed.
“My nose and ears are never wrong! You have money. Hand it over or I’ll burn this pitiful place!”
“Don’t be too hasty, my dear Brash!”
“You have something better? Jewels?”
On that thought, the dragon squeezed into the hovel, filling it to bursting.
“Would you care for some Dragon’s Breath tea, while we talk?”
“All right, but I don’t have much patience for niceties!”
Willum made the tea and Brash drank it all. Seconds later, Willum, who was a little known wizard, placed the pocket sized Brash into a fire-proof cage he kept from when he raised a phoenix chick.
“Now I’ll have to use those savings to fix my roof! Nothing like a dragon to wreak havoc while stealing for his hoard!”