DRACO

Lord Felton: [Bowen has just slain a dragon] Well done, knight! Congratulations. Our gratitude, mine and King Einon's.
Bowen: You can keep your gratitude; I'll take the gold. Yours or the king's.
Lord Felton: Gold, knight?
Bowen: We made a bargain, remember? One dragon put down, one bag of gold.
Gilbert of Glockenspur: Your honor has a price, Sir Knight?
Bowen: It has *expenses*. Honor won't feed my belly nor shoe my horse.

Draco: [talking about Bowen earning money for killing dragons] Well, since you seek a profit, we might as well begin.
Bowen: Oh, don't flatter yourself! It's not the profit. It's the pleasure!
Draco: Perhaps less pleasurable and more costly than you think!

Kara: [Draco has been singing to her] You have a beautiful voice.
Draco: Oh, thank you. We dragons love to sing when we're happy.
Kara: Well, you're not like a dragon at all.
Draco: [leaning his head close to Kara] Well, how many dragons do you know?
Kara: Well, You're the first.
Draco: You should never listen to minstrels' fancies. A dragon would never hurt a soul, unless they tried to hurt him first.
Kara: [leans back and crosses her arms] Really? Then why were you in my village?
Draco: [remembering the mercenary scam] Oh! The village!

Bowen: There's nothing noble about crushing desperate men.

Draco: [after Bowen has been in his mouth for several hours] It seems we're in a bit of a stalemate... Wouldn't you say?
Bowen: [Wipes away slobbery dragon spit] I can go three days without sleep.
Draco: I can go three weeks.
Bowen: [Groans in frustration] I'll stab you before I nod off.
Draco: And I'll chomp you.
[Scoffs]
Draco: Marvelous... we'll kill each other.
Bowen: What do you suggest?
Draco: A truce. Get out of my mouth and we'll talk... face-to-face.
Bowen: [sighs] How do I know I can trust you?
Draco: I give you my word.
Bowen: The word of a dragon - it's worthless.
Draco: [Growls and pushes Bowen out with his tongue] Stubborn lout!
Bowen: [Falls on his back and Draco pins him down with his forepaw] Argh! I should've known...! Go on... Kill me!
Draco: [Opens his mouth and fixes his jaw to close properly] I don't want to kill you! I never did. And I don't want you to kill *me*!
[Bowen looks at him]
Draco: How do we gain? If you win, you lose a trade. If I win, I wait around for the next sword-slinger thirsting to carve a reputation out of my hide. And I'm *tired* of lurking in holes and skulking in darkness... I'm going to let you up now, and if you insist, we can pursue this fracas to its final stupidity... or... you can listen to my alternative.
[Bowen staggers to his feet wearily groaning with the sword in his hand; gives him a hard stare]
Draco: Hmmmm?
Bowen: [in exhausted reluctance] What's the alternative?

Bowen: I no longer try to change the world, dragon, I just try to get by in it.
Draco: Yes, well, it's better than death, I suppose.
Bowen: Oh, is it? I should think you'd welcome death. You know, the last of your kind, all of your friends dead, hunted wherever you go...
Draco: Do you delight in reminding me? Yes, knight, I do long for death, but, fear it.
Bowen: Why? Aside from your misery, what's to lose?
Draco: My soul.

Draco: Such deception hardly befits a knight of the Old Code.
Bowen: Ha! Fleecing Einon's lackeys, that's a service to mankind.
Draco: Is it? When you squeeze the nobility, it's the peasants who feel the pinch.

Bowen: And now, Draco, without you, what do we do? Where do we turn?
Draco: [rising] To the stars, Bowen. To the stars.

[last lines]
Gilbert of Glockenspur: [voiceover]
And in the days following Draco's sacrifice, Bowen and Kara led the people in a time of justice and brotherhood. As I remember it now, those were golden years warmed by an unworldly light. And when things became the most difficult, Draco's star shown more brightly for all of us who knew where to look.