There is a constant threat of this dragon in the past couple of weeks. I found out that one of my villagers has bothered with the dragon's gold in his cave at the mountain side. This fiend will not destroy my city. I prepare to fight for one of the last times. I am simply getting to old. I will need my soldiers and armor to help. This battle hasn't brought this much danger in fifty years since the battle with Grendel's mother. We headed toward the mountain at sunrise and arrived at about four hours later. I ran into the dragon's home with a war cry and the pure stench of poison almost knocked me down. All of my soldiers ran away and cowarded in fear. The dragon let out a great breath of fire; my shield that I holding in front of me was slowing melting. It's saliva was also poisonous and was getting on everything. I couldn't seem to get close enough to the dragon without it's flames and poison almost killing me. I had almost lost hope until I seen my cousin Wiglaf had been the only soldier that had enough courage to come back and help me. With his help I was able to get closer and closer until I stabbed the dragon as deeply as possible. It was over but I was brutally wounded. Wiglaf helped me get out of the cave. I don't know if I can make it. This might be my time. I declare Wiglaf as the new king and tell him to bury me properly. This is it.
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